Psy connection who might get us something very useful. But this dance, tonight, is important to the pack.”
“I’m not part of DarkRiver.” And she needed time to consider her next step. She didn’t know how to be in a relationship, didn’t know how to open herself up that much. “I’ll be a stranger.”
“No, you won’t. You’ll be with me.” He stroked his fisted hand along her ponytail. “Please, Tally.”
Her heart clenched. He called her Tally, but he didn’t trust her with his soul, the leopard’s wariness hidden behind a near-impenetrable shield—yet she knew. Did he think she didn’t? Silly, arrogant leopard. She knew him too well, loved him too much, to not see. “You said ‘please,’” she teased, fighting past the painful insight that no matter what happened, he might never again love her as he once had.
“Very funny.”
“I want to. But I’d feel so guilty having fun while—”
“A few hours, that’s all. It’ll help you get your head back on straight.”
She had to agree with that. Her focus was shot, which reminded her—“Did you get an update on Max?”
“He’s fine, conscious. I had a packmate swing by and do a physical check.”
Some of the weight crushing her lightened. “Tell me, why the dance?”
“It’s to celebrate the formal blessing of a mating.”
“Like a wedding?”
“Mating is nothing like marriage. It’s forever. Mated pairs never choose to leave each other,” he said. “Complete loyalty till death.”
Her soul ached at the thought of the beauty, and the terror, in such a commitment. “Why the blessing if it’s already decided?”
“To show the pack’s acceptance, welcome Zach’s mate into DarkRiver.” His eyes grew intent, penetrating. “You okay, Tally?”
He knew her far too well, too, but she couldn’t let him sense this hurt, didn’t want her new knowledge—of the love she might’ve lost forever—to come between them. “I’m fine. Just a little tired.”
His expression gentled. “I need to be there, baby. I’m a sentinel.”
“Your presence matters to them,” she said, so proud of what he’d become. “I understand. Let me freshen up.”
Once in the bedroom, she quickly washed her face and hands, then pulled on the newest and nicest shirt she had packed. It was white and long-sleeved, the severe lines broken up by slender panels of fine lace down both sides. She left on the jeans she was wearing, but let down and brushed her hair. Then, on a whim, she dug around in her bag until she found a little zippered pocket. She thought she’d forgotten to take out something from there the last time she’d—Her hand touched metal.
“Bingo!” She lifted out the faux-silver earrings. A Celtic design, they would swing gently from her ears, dressing up her simple outfit. Her smile dimmed as she stood in front of the mirror slipping them into her ears.
Jon had given her these a few months ago. They were cheap—he’d found them at some flea market—but they meant everything, because he had bought the gift with honest, hard-earned money. “I haven’t forgotten you,” she promised with fierce dedication. “
Clay was leaning against a tree at the edge of the Pack Circle, watching Nico swing Talin around, when he felt a familiar presence. Sascha came to stand beside him, keeping a small distance between them. Though most changelings craved touch, she knew he wasn’t one for casual contact.
“She looks like she’s having fun.”
Clay nodded. “Yeah.”
“So why are you standing here?”
“I’m not a big dancer.”
Sascha shifted and he knew she’d folded her arms. “That’s your excuse for tonight. What about all those other times you choose the shadows?”
“What’s this—free psychoanalysis?” He had made it very clear that he didn’t want anyone, even Sascha, peering into his emotions. “Been peeping, Sascha?”
“I don’t actively have to look, you know that. I pick up emotional echoes like you pick up scents.” She leaned back against his tree. “Things have improved a considerable amount since Talin came into your life, but you’re not happy.”
“You’re a genius.”
“Stop being flippant,” she said, quiet power in her voice. “This is important. You aren’t helping Talin by being this way.”
He glanced at her. “Tally is my business.”
“She might have been once,” she replied. “But you brought her into the pack and now she’s ours, too.”
Clay felt the leopard uncurl into a crouch inside of him. “What are you saying?”
“We like her. We’ll look out for her. Even against you.”
He tempered his response with cold steel. “I will look out for Talin.”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “All I see is this wall you’ve got around yourself, so hard, so thick. She’s your way out, Clay, but only if you let her be.”
Nico jerked Talin in a particularly energetic whirl and Clay scowled. She was human, not changeling. He hoped the boy remembered she could be more easily hurt. Then she laughed and he relaxed. “Stop talking in riddles and give it to me straight.”
A frustrated sound. “Fine. Whatever it is that you’re letting poison your relationship, you need to get over it. You’re not good for
The blunt comment stunned him. Sascha was intensely loyal to DarkRiver. The fact that she’d put Talin’s well-being above his gained her another slice of his respect, even as the implications of her statement angered him. “I’m giving her everything I can. More than I’ve ever given anyone.”
“Not enough, Clay. And she knows it.”
Claws raked his gut. “She’s not like you. She can’t feel what I feel.”
“You tell yourself that if it makes you feel better.” She moved into his line of sight, tall enough that he only had to lower his head a few inches to meet her gaze. “Your Tally is one of the most sensitive human beings I’ve ever met. Some abused children become that way—alert to the slightest changes in the emotional temperature of a room or a relationship. She knows exactly what you feel.”
“Sascha!” Lucas called out from the Circle. “Stop flirting with Clay and come dance with your mate.” His grin was a bright slash.
Sascha turned, her face softening even in profile. “I’ve said what I had to say. The rest is up to you.” Then she walked toward the Circle and into Lucas’s arms. Talin was dancing with Nico right next to the alpha pair and Clay saw her look up at Lucas as he said something and smiled down at his mate.
Even from this distance, he could read the look on her face:
Not sexual. Deeper, needier—as if she was witnessing something she thought she would never have. It cut him far deeper than anything Sascha had said.
Pushing off the tree, he strode toward her. Nico saw him over Talin’s head and his eyes widened. Clay never danced. The juvenile said something to Talin and released her, backing off to find another partner. She turned, her own eyes huge. “Clay?” He wrapped his arms around her waist.
She seemed not to know where to put her hands. After a few hesitant seconds, she slid them around his waist but kept enough distance between them that she could look up into his face. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” He tried to pull her closer, but she resisted.
“Nothing wouldn’t make you look like you want to bite someone’s head off.”
“Dance with me.”
“Clay—”
“I’ll tell you after the dance.” He’d
“Promise?”
His low growl made one of the nearby juveniles give him a wary look. Talin smiled and snuggled close enough to press her cheek against his heartbeat.