Dipping his head into her neck, he kissed the bite mark and hid his smile against her skin.
Because she hadn’t pulled back, hadn’t pulled away. He’d been half-terrified that she would, that all they’d achieved would be buried under her wolf’s savage refusal to surrender to that depth of vulnerability. Instead, that wolf had looked out of her eyes with pure challenge a moment ago. Catch me, it had said, catch me and maybe I’ll be yours.
Dressing for work the next day—and given that she wouldn’t be doing any physical training—Indigo pulled on a pair of jeans that fit her like a second skin and sat easily on her hips, her favorite boots, and a black tee with a respectable scoop neck. When she pulled her hair off her face and into her usual ponytail, the bite mark on the lower curve of her neck stood out like a beacon.
Smiling, she finished getting ready, throwing on a hip-length leather-synth jacket as a final touch. She was about to head out when she hesitated. She wasn’t bothered by the mark—her wolf actually approved of the aggressive way Drew had reacted to what he’d read as a threat to his claim over his mate. But Drew was still beating himself up over it. Every time he saw the mark, he got a black look on his face.
She could cover it up . . . but her wolf rejected the idea. This was who she was, and if the man who wanted to be her mate didn’t know that by now, well, she’d have to beat him over the head with the truth until he got it.
Scowling at the thought, she wrenched open her door and stalked out.
The first packmate who came upon her stared at the mark until she had to growl at him. Raising his hands, he walked off . . . but not before she’d caught the startled look on his face. She saw that same look everywhere, until it began to make her skin itch. Yeah, she could understand a bit of surprise, but usually it’d have been teamed with catcalls and teasing suggestions for revenge.
Today, nothing.
She cornered Hawke in his room before he’d even had his first cup of coffee, his jeans hanging perilously low on lean hips. When he blinked drowsily at her, she pushed past him, folded her arms, and started to rant about the over-the-top reaction. “He didn’t hurt me, so I don’t know why they’re—”
Shaking his head as if snapping himself awake, Hawke pressed a finger to her lips. “The mark is very precise,” he said, his eyes on the flesh of her neck. “No rips, no tears. Means you didn’t struggle.”
“So?” she asked, knowing she sounded belligerent but too annoyed to care.
“So you’re Indigo,” Hawke murmured. “For you to have allowed this means something, and the pack understands that.”
Scowling because she still didn’t think it was a big deal, she unfolded her arms and said, “As long as they don’t hassle Drew about it.”
A look in his eyes she didn’t trust—it was too sneaky. “I wouldn’t worry about Drew.” A pause. “I’d worry about how he’s planning to win the mating dance.”
“Hmph.” Indigo knew Drew very well by now. She was ready for his tricks. Raising her hand, she straightened Hawke’s thick hair with the familiarity of a long and deep friendship. “You need to go have sex.”
Hawke blinked, then stared at her. “What?”
She rolled her eyes. “I can sense your wolf straining at the reins, almost feel its hunger. It’s going to become obvious to the less dominant wolves sooner rather than later.” Ignoring the fact that he was growling low in his throat, she stepped closer. “And because you’re alpha, your craziness will affect the rest of the pack.”
She was right; Hawke knew she was right. That didn’t mean he wanted to listen to her. “There’s the door. Use it.”
Blowing out a breath, she turned and headed away. “She hasn’t slept with him, you know.”
Hawke froze, his eyes on his lieutenant’s retreating back.
Indigo put her hand on the knob and shot him a look over her shoulder. “A woman can tell,” she said, answering his unasked question. “Don’t leave it too late, Hawke, or you might just lose her.”
CHAPTER 39
Nikita met Anthony’s eyes as they sat at the Tahoe cabin again, having agreed on physical meetings as much as possible. Words spoken on the PsyNet had too high a risk of being heard by other ears. “Henry’s army is getting bigger day by day.”
“There are enough people in the population disturbed by the problems in the Net that he has a wide pool to choose from.”
“Yes.” The Psy race had become used to the illusion of safety provided by Silence, would continue to cling to it as long as they possibly could—even when it was clear the illusion was slowly turning dark, rotting away until the Net was riddled with sickness.