When she caught the dark woodsmoke and citrus bite of Riaz’s scent as she moved, she moaned, realizing it was coming from the sweatshirt. She’d thrown it into her pack from where it had been lying on top of the dresser, forgetting she hadn’t worn it since the morning after the midnight meadow … the night she had given herself to him.
Now the mule-headed wolf was holding her to her word, contrary to every rule in the book when it came to mating. Emotions fluctuating between frustrated fury, black despair, and a passion that burned, she pulled the sleeves of the sweatshirt over her fingers and hugged her arms around herself, even knowing it was no way to clear her head.
Another whisper of that dark, hotly masculine scent … too strong, too fresh to come from the sweatshirt. Rising to her feet, her heart in her throat, she turned toward the trees. Either she was going mad, or the stubborn lone wolf of a male had come after her. God, but she
“I have you.” Rough, determined words. “An aggravating woman who asked the man I all but stole the Queen of the Night from to babysit it! I’ll probably have to tie Felix up to get her back.”
Adria shook her head, taking a physical step backward. “Don’t be charming.” Every wall she tried to put up was melting, every shield cracking. “I won’t steal your chance at mating.” It would poison their relationship one corrosive drop at a time.
Riaz continued to walk toward her, slow and relentless. “I gave it away of my own free will,” he said, his eyes flickering dark gold in the light from the laz-fire. “I love you to distraction, Empress.”
Her lower lip quivered, her traitorous heart slamming against her ribs. A lone wolf didn’t say those words to just anyone, his devotion a gift he’d give only to the woman he called his own. “Riaz…”
He gripped her arms when she would’ve taken another step back, dragging her to his chest to hold her tight. “Don’t.” A husky whisper that was more wolf than man. “Don’t walk away from me again. I couldn’t bear it.”
Her entire body shuddered as she fought the need inside of her and lost. “You’ll hate me,” she said, her arms locked around him because she couldn’t not hold him when he was close. “One day, you’ll hate me.” It was the thing she most feared.
Hand fisting in her hair, he pressed his forehead to her own, his eyes night-glow in the dark. “I will love you until the day they put me in the earth.”
Tears lodged in her throat at the fierceness of his vow. She felt suddenly brittle, as if she was made of the same glass as the tiny figurines Riaz had brought her from Venice. But when she parted her lips to say something—she didn’t know what—he covered them with his own. It was no ravaging, possessive brand, but a slow, sweet seduction, a persuasion.
Arrogance, force, dominance, she might’ve withstood, but this tenderness…
“Adria. Adria. Adria.” His voice a rough murmur, he kissed a path down her neck, back up to her mouth. “My Adria.”
She was only a woman. A woman who loved this man with the heart of the wolf within. She’d fought so hard, walked away even when it threatened to forever break her, had given him a choice. That he’d chosen her … no, she wasn’t superhuman enough to resist that, even though deep inside, she knew the choice she was about to make might one day savage her. “I love you,” she said against his mouth.
“Promise me you won’t
“I promise.” She kissed him when he would’ve returned the promise, loved him until he forgot what he’d been about to say.
Chapter 70
SIENNA SURVIVED ANOTHER meeting of the maternals to crawl into bed under the fluffy sky blue comforter she’d bought online. Patterned with white snowflakes, it felt so soft around her body that she felt as if she were floating on a cloud. Until it was tugged away sometime later, to be replaced by a far heavier, hotter blanket. “You’re late,” she murmured sleepily.
Nuzzling kisses along her neck, strong hands caressing the curve of her waist. “According to my many spies, you went to bed at eight thirty.” A kiss pressed to her breastbone. “Maternals make your head hurt?”
“A fraction less this time.” Pushing her fingers through the thick glory of his hair, she tugged him up for one of those long, lazy, sexy kisses she adored from her wolf. “What did Lucas say?” With anchor detail having wound down as Nikita and Anthony began to shift the anchors into permanent safe houses in earnest, Hawke had gone down to DarkRiver territory with Riley for a meeting to finalize the inter-pack dating rules.
“That we should just shoot ourselves in the head now.” Parting her thighs, he settled in between. “I like finding you naked in bed, all sleep-warm and silky.”
Lips tugging upward at the satisfied statement, she wrapped one leg around his waist. “My friends gave me some very pretty lingerie as a mating gift.” The intimate present had caused her to blush—making Evie, Maria, and the rest of her lunatic friends howl with laughter. “I’m scared to wear any of it,” she told the wolf in bed with her, “in case you tear the satin and lace to pieces.”
Nipping at her lower lip, he ran one hand up to pet and fondle her breast. “You can do a fashion parade later—after I’m suitably sated.”
“Arrogant man.” She nibbled on his jaw. “You woke me up from a very nice dream.”
A gleam in the wolf blue. “I’ll make it up to you.”
He did. Twice.
Lying happily exhausted across his chest, she stroked the muscled heat of him and spoke of something that had been on her mind since the confrontation in the forest. “Ming’s not going to let it go.”
“I know.” Hawke didn’t sound worried—his voice was that of a predator in hunting mode. Cold. Focused. Without mercy. “Which is why I’m going to kill him.”
Pushing up on his chest, she looked down into his face, her hair creating a ruby red curtain around them. “
The growl that rumbled up out of his chest was loud enough to rattle the water glass on the bedside table. “Fine, you can stand in the corner and cheer while I kill him.”
She burst out laughing, and it was the last thing she’d have ever thought she’d do while talking about Councilor Ming LeBon, telepath and a monster who had turned her childhood into a torture chamber. Unlike the man in bed with her, the one who’d taught her to play, and who treated her like she was a gift he’d been waiting a lifetime to open.
“If you’re imagining me with pom-poms,” she said, glimpsing the renewed gleam in his eye, “stop right now.” The effect of her order was somewhat diluted by the laughter that continued to dance in her blood.
“Or what?” Unrepentant, he tumbled her over onto her back, but in spite of the wickedness in his expression, his next words were deadly serious. “He’s going to die, Sienna. No one threatens my mate and gets away with it.”
Ming had been her private nightmare for a long time. That was before she’d been claimed by an alpha wolf who had a ruthless will when it came to protecting those who were his own. Sienna understood that part of him —because it lived in her, too. Anyone who dared hurt Hawke would beg for mercy by the time Sienna was done with them.
“We have to have a plan,” she said, speaking to the wintry-eyed predator that watched her out of the man’s face. “One so good, Ming’s abilities won’t save him.” The Psy male was a telepath specializing in mental combat, could slice through minds as if he had blades in his hands. “You and I will have to work as a team and trust certain others to assist—the most critical problem we have to solve is how to dispose of him without impacting the innocent in the Net.”
Hawke’s hand closed around her throat, the possessiveness of his hold echoed by the raw demand of his kiss. “You are so perfect for me”—hot words against her lips—“I’d steal you if you weren’t already mine.”
Surrounded by the strength and heat and wildness of him, she had never felt so ready to take on a nightmare. “I think we should call it ‘Operation Ming Is a Dead Man Walking.’”
