EMOTIONALLY BATTERED BY a tender, haunting night that had been followed by the possessive wildness of her lone wolf’s loving when morning broke—a loving she hadn’t been able to resist, even knowing it was wrong—the last person Adria anticipated seeing when she opened her door to a knock a few hours later, was Martin.
Too stunned to speak, she just stared at the sandy-haired man who had once been her lover. She didn’t know what she’d expected if they did ever meet again, but it wasn’t this muted sense of loss, slivers of memory floating through her mind. As if he’d been part of another lifetime.
“What are you doing here?” she finally asked, searching for but not finding whatever it was that had drawn her to him so long ago. In spite of the pain he’d caused her, she knew that in the final calculation, he wasn’t a bad person—it was simply that there was no strength in him, and she needed that in her man.
“I wanted to talk,” he said in a hesitant voice, his hazel eyes uncertain. “I won’t blame you if you say no, but I’m asking.”
Stepping out, she closed the door behind herself, the cell phone she’d returned to the room to retrieve in hand. “Let’s walk outside.” No matter what the status of her relationship with the black wolf who refused to allow her to set him free, she couldn’t, wouldn’t, have Martin’s scent inside her room. It would be a betrayal.
Martin didn’t say anything until they were in a part of the forest that overlooked the lake closest to the den, its waters smooth as glass today. Several packmates walked along the water’s edge, played in the shallows in wolf form, or sat on the pebbled shore, but there was no one nearby, no chance anyone would overhear their conversation.
Leaning up against a sturdy young cedar, she ran her gaze over Martin. He was … different, the changes subtle but present. As if he, too, had been broken and put back together, his face holding a maturity it hadn’t had the day she’d slammed the door in his face. And his eyes, they were turbulent with emotion when they met her own. “I came to say what I should have a year ago.”
Still unsure about where this was going, she simply waited.
“I’m sorry, Adria.” Stark words, his expression devoid of pretence, of the stiff dignity that had always been his armor. “Sorry for being a bastard and sorry for not having the guts to face up to what I was doing to us.”
It wasn’t anything she’d ever expected to hear, but she had the words to answer him. “Thank you for saying that.” It meant something that he’d made the effort to find her, to speak an apology she knew couldn’t have come easily. “But it wasn’t all your fault—I played my part.”
“Don’t,” he whispered. “Don’t absolve me of blame I full well know I deserve.”
“I’m not,” she said, because she understood the courage it took to face your own failings, and she would not belittle Martin’s.
“But”—she held his gaze, let him see the truth in her eyes—“it’s done with, nothing you need to carry like a millstone around your neck.” Her life right now might be a turbulent storm, but the chapter with Martin, she’d closed long ago. It was part of a past that had shaped her but no longer caged her. “I hope you find happiness.” The wish was a genuine one, for a man who had once made her laugh.
Closing the distance between them, he touched a hesitant finger to her cheek. “I never knew what I had until you were gone.” An unspoken question, his eyes shadowed with loss and a tormented guilt both.
“We’re a piece of each other’s history now, Martin,” she said gently, the strength to be kind coming not from her aggressive soldier instincts but from the part of her that understood compassion did not have to mean weakness. “In the past.”
His gaze betrayed a regret that silvered the most poignant emotion through her, but found no twin. As Riaz had seen what seemed like a lifetime ago, she had never loved Martin the way a predatory changeling female should love her man—until it was a wild howl in her blood, a near-painful craving and a tenderness that burned. Still, they had not always been adversaries, so she didn’t hurt him by rejecting his embrace before he left.
“Good-bye,” Adria whispered as his back disappeared into the trees, knowing she had laid the final ghost to rest, even if Martin continued to wrestle with them. There was calm in making peace with her past, but that peace was overwhelmed by an anguish that went to the soul, as if a chunk of her self had been ripped out and the wound wasn’t healing.
Because this time, she’d loved true.
Until, in spite of the silent promise she’d made not to ask him for what he couldn’t give her, she couldn’t bear to be with Riaz knowing she wasn’t his one, his only. Yet … the way he loved her, the way he branded her with his kiss, the primal possession in the rough, beautiful words he spoke to her—it made her want to believe his heart bore her name, not Lisette’s.
The tumult of her opposing thoughts had her wolf clawing and snarling, no longer sure which choice was the right one.
WHEN Riaz returned to den territory late that afternoon after handling something in the city, he was determined to continue on where he’d left off with Adria—to discover she’d requested a change in her duties that saw her stationed up in the mountains for three days, on one of the high perimeter watches no one but the lone wolves much liked, they were so isolated. The soldier she’d replaced was ecstatic, and more than happy to take Adria’s shifts on anchor detail.
He knew the only reason she hadn’t volunteered for an even longer stretch was that she was too loyal to her trainees to leave them scrambling. As it was, she’d organized two special sessions for them with the lone dominant who had the gift of not intimidating even the gentlest submissive—Drew—and taken a sat phone with her, in case the kids needed to get in touch. A sat phone she’d apparently pick up for everyone but Riaz.
His wolf snarled, but he bided his time, because when he went after her, he wasn’t coming back alone. First, he had to take care of another matter he’d been working on in the background—and, given the shifts he was doing with the anchor protection squad, as well as his duties as the lieutenant in charge of SnowDancer’s international business interests, it took him until the end of the following day to put all the pieces in place.
It was on the morning of the day after that he drove down to San Francisco.
Lisette smiled at seeing him at the door to her hotel room. “This is a nice surprise.”
“We have to talk.” It was past time. “About us.”
Her smile dimmed. “Riaz, I sensed something the first time we met, but—”
He pressed a finger to her lips, feeling an affectionate tenderness toward her, such as he might feel for a cherished friend. “I know. I don’t love you either.” It was as simple as that, regardless of the promise of the mating bond that existed with Lisette. His heart, the heart of a lone wolf, belonged absolutely and indelibly to a stubborn violet-eyed woman who was going to make him chase her up into the mountains. No potential chimera of a future could hold a candle to the incandescent happiness man and wolf both felt simply being in Adria’s presence.
“Oh good.” Lisette’s laugh was a bit teary. “Because I’m stupid in love with a man who doesn’t want me.”
Stepping inside the room, he closed the door and tugged her to the window that looked out over the parking lot below and the quiet street beyond. “You’re angry.”
Lisette’s hand tightened on his. “Furious would be the better word. I know I left Emil, but he was supposed to fight for me! How could he just let me go?”
“Look down.” He pushed aside the lace curtain.
Lisette’s breath released in a soft whisper when she saw the slender blond man standing beside a silver rental sedan in the parking lot. “You called him?”
“He’s been in the city since the day after you arrived.” Emil was a good man, one who loved his wife so much, he’d thought to set her free when he’d been diagnosed with a rare genetic disorder that would mean years of arduous hospital visits to cure, therapy that might leave him in agony—something he knew would cause Lisette brutal pain. Except he couldn’t bear to be without her, had followed her across the ocean and kept a watch on her. “He loves you.”
“He sent me divorce papers!” Clearly outraged, Lisette fisted both hands … though her eyes continued to drink in the sight of her husband.
“Cut him a little slack. He was thinking crazy.” Riaz had tracked Emil down with the intention of getting to the bottom of things, of making the other man see how badly he was hurting Lisette. However, it turned out Emil had already made up his mind to reclaim his wife and trust in the strength of their love to get them through the test to come.
“When I spoke to him today,” Riaz continued, “he was planning to storm the defenses, but he agreed to give me a few minutes with you first.” Only because Riaz had promised to try to soften Lisette’s mood—though until right this second, he’d had no idea she even had a temper.
“Hah!” Lisette kicked the wall with a foot clad in a flimsy peach-colored heel, trying to push up the locked-shut window at the same time. “He thinks he can get me back just by turning up?!” A rapid storm of indignant French as she gave up on the window and stalked to the door.
Opening it so hard it slammed into the wall, she headed out.
Emil wasn’t looking at the hotel when she stomped out, but he turned a split second later. Expression lighting up, he went to take Lisette into his arms. At which point, his sweet, loving, cultured wife punched him on the jaw, hard enough that his head spun. After which she cradled his face in her hands and kissed the life out of him, before stepping back and gesticulating in unrestrained fury.
Then she reached down, took off her shoe, and threw it at his head, oblivious to the small crowd of fascinated bystanders. Ducking the missile, a laughing Emil grabbed her around the waist, pinning her arms to her sides. But Lisette had enough freedom of movement to tug up the skirt of her knee-length shift and attempt to unman her husband.
Riaz winced, then grinned, knowing the other couple would be okay. The sophisticated and elegant Lisette the rest of the world knew would never cause a scene of such fiery proportions—clearly it was only with the man she loved that she let her shields fall. Just like his Adria would never allow any man but Riaz to reduce her to giggling fits as she wiggled across the bed in an attempt to escape his tickling fingers … or to hold her when she was at her most vulnerable. “I’m coming, amada. And I’m not leaving without you.”
ADRIA knew it was beneath her wolf to have run, but she’d needed space to think. Something Riaz made it impossible to do when he continued to court her with such unyielding focus. After her talk with Martin, she’d walked into her office to find a potted plant waiting for her, big red bow around the pot.
Queen of the Night. For my empress. Let’s plant it and see if she blooms for us.
Adria still had the note in her pocket, wrinkled and soft from constant handling.
Now, as the night closed in on the mountains, a purple-hued twilight, she ran to base camp and shifted into human form, the first watch complete. Dragging on jeans, a long-sleeved T-shirt in plain black, and a gray sweatshirt, she settled down in front of the laz-fire.
The other wolf on watch up here had his base camp at the opposite end of the route, would run the second watch, but Adria had to be rested for the third in a few hours. Even knowing that, she felt no desire to sleep, her mind a chaos of need and want and impossible choices. She had only tonight before she had to return to the den, and she had no answers to the questions that tormented her.
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 loved him. “You have a mate.” It was a desperate reminder to both of them, because her willpower … it was crumbling to so much dust.
“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 ever walk away from me again.” A demand, his callused hand cupping her face, one of his thumbs brushing possessively over her lips.
“I promise.” She kissed him when he would’ve returned the promise, loved him until he forgot what he’d been about to say.