HAWKE SNAGGED SIENNA’S hand as they passed in the corridor, dragging her into a corner hidden from the eyes of curious packmates. “Where are you going in such a rush?” His wolf was delighted to see her, rolling around in the autumn and spice of her scent like a pup. It made him remember how he’d awakened her this morning, how he’d licked up that delectable scent in a much more intimate fashion.
Sienna’s voice was low and caressing when she replied, the fingers of her free hand spread over his heart. “I’m meeting some of the leopards for lunch.”
“Kit?” A feral growl.
“Yes.” Her scowl matched the straight line of her mouth. “He’s my friend.”
The boy had also kissed her, dared to put his hands and his scent on her. “No.” It was an order from the wolf, a wolf used to obedience.
But Sienna Lauren Snow had never once bowed down to him. Tugging her hand from his hold, she rose on tiptoe to thrust both into his hair. “Yes.”
His stare was met by her own, his dominance countered by the steely will of a cardinal X. “I think it’s time I bit you again,” he muttered, rubbing his finger over the curve where her neck met her shoulder, his favorite spot to mark her.
The threat made Sienna pull playfully at his hair. “You did that this morning. It’s my turn.” A quick nip of his lower lip. “Do you want to join us?”
Hell, yes—because while he might not be able to intimidate his smart, sexy, dangerous mate, he damn well could and would warn off the baby cat alpha she called friend. But—“I have to meet with the maternal females.” Wincing at the reminder, he bent his head so she could pet him more effectively. “They’re on the warpath about some of the juveniles.”
Laughing, Sienna ran her nails over his scalp, the caress making his wolf arch its neck in wild pleasure. “You sound scared.”
“Any man not scared of a bunch of maternals ganging up on him needs his head examined.” Hackles still raised by the thought of her lunch date, he straightened to his full height, his mate’s hands sliding to his shoulders. “If that cub puts his hands anywhere near you, I don’t care if he is your friend, I’ll rip his arms off.” He wasn’t joking—this soon after mating, the wolf was possessive beyond belief, the mating bond raw.
Sienna’s smile faded. “You know I would never—”
“Of course I know that,” he snapped, annoyed that she’d even contemplate he didn’t trust her. “That’s not the point.”
A raised eyebrow, tiny nails digging into his shoulders. “What is the point then, Your Alphaness?”
He snapped his teeth at her for that smart-ass remark. “The point is you’re mine. End of story. No touching by any other male.” He paused, considered. “Special family-affection dispensation for those related to you.”
When she didn’t respond, he leaned in close and whispered, “I did warn you,” his lips brushing her ear. He’d told her exactly what it would mean to be his, how hard he’d be to handle, how totally he’d claim her. And still she’d come to him, but he wondered if she was only now understanding the true depth of what he’d demand from her. The thought that he might be distressing his mate by being who he was made both parts of him go motionless, watchful.
Shivering in response to his touch, she pushed him back until she could meet his gaze. Her glare was dark … but then she laughed, the sound of it wild lightning along his fur. “I guess,” she said, the stars vibrant in her eyes, “that serves me right for mating with an alpha.”
His wolf relaxed. His mate had no fear in her scent, in her teasing smile, the bond between them vivid with the red and amber fire that was her brand. Running his hands down the sleek curve of her back, he nuzzled at her. “I may get a little more … flexible after we’ve been mated for a while.”
“No you won’t.” Sienna pressed a hot, wet kiss to his jaw, her fingers stroking the heat of his nape. “But I love you exactly as you are—and I know how to stand my ground. So do your worst, beautiful man.”
He was alternately proud of her strength and aggravated by her intransigence. A familiar occurrence when it came to this woman. Sienna might be younger and physically smaller, but she’d go toe-to-toe with him without a blink. The thought made him grin, every part of him aware they’d likely be butting heads for the next century. He couldn’t wait.
“So,” she said, tracing his smile with a fingertip, “what are the maternals mad about?”
He was used to talking to his lieutenants and senior packmates about pack business, but it felt utterly different talking with Sienna about the same thing. Because she was someone of his own, someone who listened not because it was SnowDancer business, but simply because she liked being with him, liked knowing things that mattered to him.
“The word ‘hormones’ was used,” he told her, already feeling the dull pulse of a throbbing headache. “Some of the older juveniles are apparently getting too frisky. I’ll probably end up dragging the boys off to remind them to keep their paws to themselves.” Groaning, he bent so his forehead touched hers. “And then I’ll have to do the same thing with the girls.” Normally, Indigo and Riley would take care of the situation, but sometimes only an alpha’s voice would get the message across.
“But skin privileges are an accepted part of pack life.” Sienna’s breath kissed his lips. “I know my friends had relationships when they were younger.”
“There are still boundaries,” Hawke said, restraining the urge to undo her braid, to knot his hands in that pretty ruby red hair. “Sometimes the wolf has to be reminded that it needs to wait for the human half to catch up.”
Sienna’s gaze turned thoughtful. “Yes, I understand. That’s why you let your wolf be in charge when you were younger—you said it was more mature.”
He played the end of her braid over his fingertips. “Controlling the wolf is something we learn as children and have to maintain as we grow older. Without that control, there’d be a lot more rogues.” Changeling wolves who gave in to their animals turned into vicious killers—and they most often targeted those who had been their own.
“Do you think the juveniles are responding to the stress of being evacuated out of the den?”
“Yes, but if it’s unsettled them to that degree, we’ll have to organize supervision and retraining for a whole lot of young ones.”
Sienna stroked his nape. “I know it’s a headache for you, but what I feel for you only grows deeper every time I see how you care for each member of the pack, young and old, strong and weak.”
He’d never needed verbal petting—but when Sienna said things like that, yeah, it mattered. Raising his head, he released her braid and ran his knuckles down her cheek. “Go, have your lunch.” It cost him to say that, to know that he was sending her out with a man who had once shown an interest in her. “You’re not leaving den territory?” It was too dangerous to chance yet.
The Council now knew she was alive. Ming LeBon, the man who had attempted to turn her into a weapon when she’d been barely more than a child, knew she was alive. And Sienna’s abilities were of unrivaled potential—no one understood or could predict how her power would develop as she grew older … because there had never been another cardinal X-Psy who’d survived to adulthood.
His gut twisted at the thought of Sienna broken and dead at the hands of the enemy, and he had to clench his fists to keep from grabbing her and stashing her in their quarters, where she’d be safe. He fought the urge because the one thing he would never, ever do to Sienna, was cage her. She’d already spent far too much of her life behind bars, the psychic prison designed to contain her power turning into a place of mental torture.
“No,” she assured him. “I wouldn’t risk that when things are so unstable. Kit and the others are going to meet us in the White Zone, and we’ll go down to the waterfall.”
“Us?”
“Riordan, Evie, and Lake are also coming.”
His wolf settled. The boys would make sure no one attempted to poach on his territory—and he’d just keep that thought to himself, he decided with a somewhat feral internal grin. “You want to have dinner with the kids?” he asked, knowing they had only a couple more minutes.
That smile again, the one she hadn’t given him before, when they’d been circling each other … and that she gave him every day now. It was a kick to his heart every single time. “Yes,” she said. “You don’t mind how much time we’re spending with them?”
“Of course not.” Toby was her brother, Marlee her cousin. They were Pack, pups to love and protect. “Since Walker’s stopped giving me the death stare, it’s actually become comfortable.” The eldest Lauren was very protective of those under his care, considered Sienna his daughter. Hawke had no doubt the other man would quietly, methodically gut him at the smallest sign that he was causing Sienna distress. His wolf approved.
Laughter wrapping him in silken ropes, the crimson fire of his mate’s touch flickering through his blood. “Lara will protect you.” Stealing another little kiss, she stepped away, paused, her next words vibrant with emotion. “I love you.”
He knew what it meant to her that she could say those words and know no one would hurt her for daring to feel, for daring to love with all the power of her strong, loyal heart. Closing the short distance between them, he answered with a kiss as tender as he knew how to give, his fingers closing possessively around her throat.
“Are you sure you have to go to that meeting?” she whispered when he lifted his head, her lips wet and luscious, her body arching toward his own.
His wolf was tempted. Sorely. “Nell and her crew will hunt us down and interrupt.” Maternal females were not to be messed with. “Then they’ll make us feel like shamed five-year-olds.” He took another kiss, rubbing his thumb over the flutter of her pulse and reining in the urge to bite. Later, he promised his wolf. “I’ll see you tonight.”
He watched after her until she disappeared around the corner, the possessiveness inside him a primal craving that made him want to haul her over his shoulder and drag her to his bed. Maybe tie her to it for good measure.
“Don’t even think about it,” Riley said as he walked over to join Hawke for the Meeting of Doom.
Hawke met his senior lieutenant’s brown eyes, always so calm and stable. “The only way you could know what I was thinking was if you’d had similar thoughts yourself.”
“Mercy forgives me … most of the time.” A slow smile. “Come on, enough procrastinating.”
As they walked, Hawke said, “Adria and Riaz. Problems?”
“Personality clash, I think. They seem to work well enough together despite it.” The lieutenant glanced at him. “Why? You want me to split their shifts?”
“No, better they work it out.” He’d picked up something more violent and intense than a simple personality clash, but his wolf knew when to be discreet, so he didn’t mention it. Instead, he turned the conversation to the juveniles, and the remainder of their walk passed in shoptalk.
While meetings such as this one promised to be weren’t ever on his favorite things-to-do list, it felt good to be doing something as normal as worrying about the juveniles. Not discussing Psy surveillance or planning to defend against an attack. Not stockpiling weapons, or checking medical supplies as they waited to evacuate their vulnerable. Not even meeting with the DarkRiver leopards to assess a suspected threat.
It had been months since his wolves had had a chance to just be Pack.
However, Hawke knew the fact SnowDancer and its allies had won the battle didn’t mean their enemies wouldn’t regroup and return. But he was a wolf. He also knew how to live in the moment—a time in which he was mated to a woman who challenged, loved, and teased him; his pack was safe; and the den filled with the vibrant sounds of children’s voices once more. “How’s the planning going for the mating ceremony?” Sienna was indelibly his, but his pack needed to have a chance to celebrate their alpha’s mating, and they’d get that chance four days from now.
“Drew suggested dancing girls.”
Hawke grinned. “How many?”
Riley shot him an unamused look. “Don’t encourage him or I swear to God I will hire a troop of strippers, complete with spangled pasties, and watch cheerfully while Sienna barbecues you.”
Wondering what else Drew had been suggesting, Hawke stifled his laugh. “Seriously, how’s it going?” Riley and Nell were sharing the overall organizational load, in charge of ensuring all the pieces came together into a cohesive whole.
“Good. My brother, when he isn’t e-mailing me brochures about Brazilian samba dancers and Vegas showgirls, has found a job for every single person who wants to be involved in the preparation.”
That was why, Hawke thought, Drew was so perfect for the position he occupied. Not quite part of the hierarchy, he was Hawke’s eyes and ears in the pack, accessible to even the weakest of their number, those who might feel intimidated approaching one of the other dominants. No one was intimidated by Drew, and that was an incredible achievement, given that the other man was SnowDancer’s tracker, charged with finding and executing rogues if the need arose. “It’ll be a good night.”
“The best,” Riley said quietly, then took a deep breath. “We’re here.”
Hawke folded his arms and stared at the door with a sour expression. “I hate these meetings.”
“We should make Drew attend instead. Teach him a lesson.”
They both stared at each other and grinned. Yeah, he thought, pushing through the door, it was nice to be doing something as ordinary as grousing about a meeting with the maternals.