Tangle of Need (Psy-Changeling #11)

“From what you’ve said, it sounds like he was the one who pursued you—could be he felt more for you than you did for him,” Riaz said quietly. “We both know you didn’t love him, not as a strong female wolf should love her man.”

Stricken, Adria said, “While I was in that relationship, I gave him everything I had to give.” Hadn’t realized she had the capacity for wild passion, that the dark intensity she’d witnessed in packmates was a part of her nature, too. “If he was unhappy, why didn’t he say anything?”

“Because he was a weak prick,” was the cold summation. “I can see why he might’ve reacted badly, but that doesn’t mean I have any sympathy for him.”

Yes … Martin had made his own choices, held the responsibility for them. “I should’ve walked away when I first began to realize he’d started to resent me for my strength, but I couldn’t bear to give up and prove to those who’d warned me off a less dominant man that they’d been right.” God, she’d been so stubborn, so proud.

“You’re a dominant female—being bloody-minded is part of the package.”

She laughed, leaned down to play her fingers through his hair once more. “Yes, I’ve forgiven myself for that.” Because underneath the pride had been the honest desire to salvage a relationship that had started out with such promise. “And I think I would’ve accepted defeat sooner and walked away, but then … Martin saved my life.”

She’d been out in a bad storm, searching for a pup everyone thought was lost when a tree had fallen on her. It had broken her leg and dislocated her shoulder as it knocked her into a stream that had been bloated to dangerous levels, where she’d hit her head on an exposed rock. Dizzied and disoriented, she’d begun to gasp in water instead of air.

Having described the accident to Riaz, she said, “Martin has a bone-shaking fear of the water after almost drowning as a child, but he came out into the storm because he was worried about me, and then he dove into a raging torrent to save my life.” However, that wasn’t the most important part of the jagged jigsaw that had been their relationship. “He got me out, but as he was pulling himself out, a huge rock smashed into him, crushing most of his ribs and doing serious damage to his organs. He was in the infirmary longer than I was.”

Riaz sat up, stroking his hands along her spine. “He used it, didn’t he, to hold you?”

The top of the tattoo on Riaz’s left shoulder just visible to her in this position, she traced the curved lines of it. “I don’t know if it was conscious, but yes.” The pressure had been so subtle, she hadn’t realized what was happening for a long time. “I always had this sickening bubble of guilt inside me whenever I thought of ending it with a man who’d risked everything to save me.”

After the relationship did end, she’d found herself unable to understand why Martin had fought to hold her even when it had become agonizingly clear they’d be happier apart. But if Riaz was right, if Martin had loved her in a way she hadn’t been able to reciprocate … it explained so much, even as it didn’t excuse the hurt he’d caused her.

“Loyalty’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Riaz’s breath warm against her skin.

“No … but taken too far, it can become a flaw.” Sliding her hands over his shoulders when his gaze darkened in knowledge, she gave a rueful smile. “Hindsight is always twenty-twenty, isn’t it?”

He rubbed his cheek against hers. “That’s why it’s a bitch.”

Again, she laughed, startled at the vein of humor within the solemn wolf with the golden eyes. “Well, I’m done with looking back,” she said, tasting the salt and citrus bite of his skin, the hint of bitter chocolate in his kiss exotic and intriguing. “I’m ready to live in today.”

This time, their loving was an intimate dance.

Long, drugging kisses, lingering strokes of her hands over a firm chest lightly covered by a sprinkling of hair that was an erotic caress against her breasts, and a ride as deep, as slow. His body arched under her own, his tendons straining white under the dusky hue of his skin as his hands clenched on her hips.

She’d never felt as beautiful, as powerfully female.

Chapter 28

KALEB LOOKED DOWN at the body laid out on the cold metal slab, lit by the frigid white of the morgue lights. The corpse had been discovered four hours ago, been prioritized at the highest level of importance. “Your conclusions?” he said to Aden. The Arrow medic—trained to perform autopsies on fallen Arrows—had done the task himself.

“Cause of death was a broken neck,” Aden responded. “From the on-scene examination, it appears he tripped and fell down the stairs.”

Not an unbelievable occurrence, and nothing that would’ve drawn Arrow attention, except for the fact the victim was an anchor. All anchor deaths were investigated by Arrows, even when old age was an evident factor—born with the ability to merge totally into the Net, those of Designation A were too integral to its psychic fabric to risk any mistakes.

Anchors had many functions, but their most important one was to stabilize and “hold” the PsyNet in place. They were the reason Psy could cross the world on the psychic plane without mental stress. The death of the one who lay on the slab had caused some minor ripples, but the temporary fail-safes had come into play the instant he disappeared from the Net, ensuring no major damage. Those in the affected zone would’ve experienced a faint headache at most before the network of anchors in the region realigned their spheres of influence to cover the gap.

A single death would in no way stretch the network thin, but the loss of any anchor was a cause for concern. However, only a telekinetic at the scene could’ve prevented an accident that appeared to have been caused by a split-second physical error.

“Do you believe the on-scene report?” he asked Aden.

“Vasic and I both did a sweep of the premises, found nothing out of order. The footage from his private security system also proved to be clean. Theoretically, a teleport-capable Tk could’ve ’ported in and ‘assisted’ in the fall, but why kill an anchor?” It was the most crucial question. “They have no political power, and their deaths do nothing except weaken the Net.”

And regardless of political affiliation, every single Psy in the Net needed the biofeedback provided by the vast mental network. Sever their Net link and those of his race died an excruciating death in minutes.

“Non-Psy?” Kaleb proposed.

“If there was an intruder, it would’ve had to be a Tk. No other designation could’ve evaded the security system.”

He met Aden’s gaze. “Judd Lauren is a Tk outside the Net.” It was a statement he made for many reasons.

“Judd also has an emotional attachment to the members of his family,” Aden pointed out. “It’s reasonable to extrapolate that he wouldn’t want to cause harm to the young in the Net, and there is no way to control the widespread effect of an anchor’s death.”

Weighing all the factors, Kaleb gave a small nod. “Even the most important aren’t immune to accidents,” he said, taking in the bruises on the body of the middle-aged man. “However, I want no unanswered questions. Do a secondary scan of the premises, ensure your first impression was correct.”

Aden said nothing, but Kaleb knew it would be done. He and the Arrows had come to an understanding—but he didn’t make the mistake of thinking he had their total support. The most lethal fighting force in the Net was still making up its mind about him. What the Arrows didn’t realize was that Kaleb was evaluating them, too, the purpose of that evaluation nothing Aden and his men would ever guess.

Chapter 29

RIAZ PRESSED HIS forehead to the wall of the shower and let the water pound over him, washing away the sweat and grass stains, but doing nothing to erase the memories of the passion that had swept over him not long ago … and of the wild, sensual woman whose lush mouth was quickly becoming a private addiction.

Shame, anger, desire, they all vied for prime position within the rigid tension that was his body. The idea of being with anyone else once he’d found the woman meant to be his mate, was so anathema to everything he had ever believed, that both man and wolf were bewildered, lost. But that wasn’t the only thing that had him feeling like shit—regardless of what Adria had said about being with him every step of the way during their first primal coupling, he wasn’t a man who mistreated women. It continued to shame him that he’d been so inconsiderate with her.

A snapshot of memory, Adria’s hair tumbling around him in a silken waterfall as she leaned down to suck his lower lip into her mouth, releasing it in a delicious tease of a bite. “No more guilt, Riaz.” A husky order. “I needed that as much as you did. We can go slow this time.”

Wrenching the water to ice-cold when his cock surged at the mental replay of exactly how slow they’d taken it, he grit his teeth until his wolf cried foul. Since he was about to turn blue, he got out, dried off, and pulled on a faded pair of jeans, the threads barely holding together above the left knee. A white T-shirt, socks, and boots and he was done. He ran a comb through his hair, rubbed his jaw. It scraped, the bristles hard. Since it was far too late for Adria’s delicate skin, he shrugged and left it.

Heading to the small office he’d been assigned, he began to go through some paperwork Pierce had asked him to look over, figuring he’d grab dinner from the kitchen later, as it was only seven thirty.

However, Riley popped in his head a minute later. “Dinner at my place tonight.”

Riaz had returned to the den because he’d known he needed his pack. But after what had just happened, the painful decision he’d made to forget Lisette and continue his strange, sensual friendship with Adria, his wolf raised its hackles, wanting to be left alone. “Thanks, but I have a lot of work.” It wasn’t a lie—he was the lieutenant in charge of SnowDancer’s international business interests, Pierce and the others under his direct command.