Andrew hadn’t spoken of his attraction to Indigo to anyone, ever. Because though he loved his pack with every breath in him, he didn’t want them peering over his shoulder while he fought for his right to court her. “God, if Riley could see me now.” He’d hassled his brother endlessly about Mercy.
Judd continued to walk, his stride elegant even along the soaked earth. It was an explicable grace, given that the man most thought a telepath was actually also a viciously powerful telekinetic. Judd had already been in the pack for well over a year before any of them discovered that truth. So Andrew had no doubts about the fact the man could keep secrets—at least from the pack. “You’ll tell Brenna, won’t you?”
The Psy lieutenant turned and simply looked at him.
“Yeah.” Andrew blew out a breath. “Not like that’s a question.” Neither was it reason enough to keep his silence—his sister was loyal to the bone. She might mess with him in private, but she’d keep it close to her chest if he asked.
“You don’t have to say anything.” Judd’s voice was calm and clear in the snow-laced chill of the night. “I’ve seen the way you look at the lieutenant. So has Brenna.”
“Fuck.” The pack, with its loving teasing, could do more harm than good right now, when Indigo was so determined to draw a line in the sand between them. “Is it that bloody obvious?”
“No.” Judd waited until Andrew began to walk again to continue. “However, we are . . . family.” Emotion— being open with it—was still difficult for Judd. But not only had Drew once stood in the path of a bullet that had been aimed at the woman who was Judd’s heart, the wolf male had used his considerable charm to bring a smile to Sienna’s face.
For those two things alone, Judd would’ve owed him. But even before Drew started interacting with Sienna and the other Lauren children, he and Judd had also forged a cautious kind of friendship—built on their shared love for Brenna. “Brenna worries about you.”
Drew gave a startled laugh. “What? I’m not Riley. I don’t take responsibility for the world’s ills.” It was said with open affection for the brother Judd knew had all but raised both Drew and Brenna.
Using a slight amount of Tk, Judd absently braced a water-logged branch that had been about to break off right above their heads. “I think Mercy might be trying to cure him of that.”
A minute . . . two, of silence. Except it wasn’t silent. He’d been an assassin, knew how to move without sending a ripple through the air currents, thought he’d been familiar with the quiet dark of night. But Brenna, his mate, had shown him
The rustle of a rabbit as it caught their scent and froze.
The dull thud of that branch falling to the earth.
The soft touch of rain-heavy air against his face.
Small things that filled the silence, the dark, until it wasn’t bleak, but a serene wonderland.
“Indigo thinks Riaz—or someone like Riaz,” Drew said at last, his voice taut, strained, “will be right for her. I can see it clear as day.”
“You disagree.”
“None of them know her, not like I do.”
Judd angled his body left, taking them down a slight slope that would lead eventually to one of the lakes that dotted the Sierra. Most in the higher altitudes, especially in the central and southern areas, remained locked in ice, but this one was liquid, its waters rippling under moonlight as the clouds parted. “But do you truly know her, Drew?”
Andrew felt his shoulders go stiff, his wolf baring its teeth in instinctive response, but he respected Judd’s intelligence enough to rein it back. “Are you saying I don’t?”
“I’m saying that from what Brenna’s noted, you’ve had a crush on Indigo since you were a very young man.” Judd held up a hand when Andrew would’ve interrupted. “I’m not questioning what you feel; I’m not telling you that you’re wrong. I’m simply asking you to examine your own emotions,” he said with implacable logic. “Ask yourself if it’s Indigo you want, or a mirage of her you’ve built up in your mind.”
With that, Judd jogged down the final steep part of the incline to the pebbled edge of the lake. Andrew followed with far less grace, for all that he was changeling. His mind was misfiring, his body not quite under his control. It felt as if his world had just been skewed on its axis.
A few feet away, the lake lapped with placid regularity over the smooth water-shaped pebbles, in stark contrast to his own disordered state. Swearing under his breath, he ripped off his sweatshirt and went for his boots.
Judd walked away without a word, taking a path along the curving edge of the dark spread of water.
Stripping down to his skin, Andrew looked up at the moon, his wolf confused, floundering. The bright sphere, its face covered by clouds an instant later, could give him no answers, and the more he thought, the more he tangled himself up in the sticky confusion of a thousand cobwebs. Shrugging off the cutting bite of the wind, he strode in through the shallows and dived.
The shock of it tore the air from his lungs, froze the blood in his veins . . . and returned clarity to his mind.
Wiping the water from his face, he sucked in a breath of the bracing air and yelled out to the night, “I know every part of her, warts and all! And I still adore her!” He began to head back to shore without waiting for an answer. Even his tough changeling body couldn’t handle water this icy for long.
A towel was waiting for him by his discarded clothes. He grinned. Having a telekinetic as a friend did come in handy sometimes. Wiping himself off with rough strokes that got his blood pumping, he rubbed at his hair then pulled on his clothes. He was sitting on the rocky shore, the towel around his neck, when Judd returned to his side. The other man took a seat beside him, his movements so quiet that if Andrew hadn’t scented him, he’d never have known there was anyone beside him.
“So,” Judd said, “what’re you going to do?”
“What I have been doing,” Andrew said, his wolf growling in feral agreement. “I’m not about to let her ignore me just because I don’t fit neatly into the box she has marked out for the man she’ll take as her own.” He wanted to use the word
And though it hurt him to admit it, there was no mating dance between him and Indigo, no compulsion from the wild heart of their natures that would—if nothing else—tug her inexorably to him, make her pay attention. No, all he had was his stubborn determination . . . and his heart.
Judd sighed. “That’s not your strength.”
“
“I’m mated,” Judd pointed out with a cool arrogance that almost hid the laughter in his voice. “You can’t even get the woman you want into bed. I’d listen if I were you.”
Andrew gave him the finger, but his wolf pricked up its ears. “Yeah, so?”
“Sienna,” Judd said in an abrupt change of subject, “is slow to take to people, suspicious of everyone’s motives. She’s had to become that way to protect herself, but she lets you hold her. Do you understand how big a deal that is for her?”
Judd had almost intervened the first time he’d seen Drew pull Sienna into a hug. He’d thought his niece was being forced. But then, right before he’d turned Drew’s bones into so much shrapnel, he’d seen Sienna’s arms go