Tangle of Need (Psy-Changeling #11)(51)

An inscrutable look before she put two fingers to her mouth and whistled. “Israel, Charlie, Vincent. You’re with Riaz.”

After he’d given the boys a quick tutorial, Riaz’s team began to snap and screw together the tables and benches. Since except for the occasional event, most wolves preferred to sit or sprawl on the ground, the pack put up and broke down their outdoor furniture as needed. It ensured the forest remained as uncluttered and as untouched as possible, and with the separate components taking up very little room when stacked, storage space wasn’t an issue.

From what he’d glimpsed of the plan, Walker and Lara—or if Riaz had to guess, Lara—had decided on a night picnic, followed by a jazz dance. Soft glowing lights in all the shades of the rainbow would ring the area, the festivities kicking off soon after sunset. The early start made sense, since Walker had a young daughter and was basically Toby’s dad as well.

“It’ll be beautiful,” Adria said to him as he wiped his forearm across his perspiration-damp forehead a couple of hours later. “Suit who Walker and Lara are as a couple.”

Riaz had sent the boys off a few minutes earlier, when Adria dismissed the rest of her crew, and was now completing the final table with her holding the boards in place. “The check marks on the plan,” he said, twisting a rivet into place. “I couldn’t figure out what they were.”

Adria’s sudden laugh was husky and uninhibited. “Giant butterflies—Marlee’s contribution to the decorations. Sienna and Brenna have been conscripted into the task force.”

Man and wolf both chuckled. “Walker Lauren is not exactly the butterfly type.” The lone wolf in Riaz had recognized the other man as dangerous from the first.

“He’s a good dad.” Adria consulted the plan, made him move the table a few feet to the left. “That’s it. Thanks.”

Glancing up at the orange glow of the early evening sky, he said, “I might jog down to the stream, take a dip.” He needed to chill the embers in his gut, a dark, hot flame.

Adria frowned. “I didn’t know there was one nearby.”

“It’s about a ten-minute jog.” He described the sector, but the lines between her eyebrows didn’t disappear. “Come with me,” he said, clenching his abdomen against the continuing impact of her presence. “It won’t take long.”

Her reawakened wariness betrayed itself in the finest flicker of tension across her lashes, but Adria was a SnowDancer soldier. She gave a small nod. “Let’s pack up everything here first.”

That done, Riaz led her into the trees and toward the secluded area where the hidden stream widened into a cold, clear pool half hidden by the gnarled roots of two ancient trees before snaking away and underground again. Though his wolf knew Adria wasn’t his mate and the craving confused it, it clawed at him, wanting to lick up the taste of her. As a result, his jaw was a painful line by the time they reached their destination.

“No wonder I missed it,” Adria said, stepping in front of him and to the water’s edge. “It’s literally tucked between…”

He didn’t hear the rest of what she said, his eyes locked on the bare skin of her nape, her braid having slid over her shoulder. His hand curved around that nape before he was aware of moving. She wrenched away, her eyes slamming into him, bright cobalt touched with purple. For an instant, he froze, but then his wolf roared to the surface and he knew he’d been fooling himself about his ability to resist her.

THE electric charge in those eyes gone a vivid wolf gold raised every hair on Adria’s body. “No.” Not even if the rough heat of contact had rocked a lightning bolt through her. “I told myself I’d never again invite you into my bed and I meant it.”

Riaz flinched. “I’m doing the inviting.”

Bruised pride made her want to repudiate him as he’d repudiated her, but if being with Martin had taught her one thing, it was that her pride could be a terrible weakness. “You’ll just hate me for it.” And she’d had enough of a man’s hatred.

Shuddering, Riaz stalked forward to cup her cheeks in his hands. Startled at the tender hold, she didn’t jerk away when he bent to press his forehead to her own. “No.” A hot breath on her lips, his hands warm and callused on her face. “It’s on me.” Raw, his soul stripped bare. “I can’t carry on as I have been doing.”

“So I’m the bitter pill?” Even as she said that, part of her resonated with the tumult of need and pain tearing him apart.

“Adria—”

“No.” A finger pressed to the firm curves of his lips. “You’re right. You need to make a clean break … and so do I.” She gave him that piece of herself so this wounded wolf would know he wasn’t the only one going into this with the most painful of motivations. It wasn’t simply about the sex any longer, wasn’t simply about assuaging the skin hunger that haunted them both. It was about saying good-bye to a dream that had never had a chance. “But,” she whispered, forcing herself to hold the potent dominance of a gaze that was pure wolf, “you have to be sure.”

“I am.” No hesitation, even if the words were jagged as broken stone. “There’s nothing for me in the past.”

Yes, she thought, the past was forever gone, for both of them. “All right.”