“You almost died.”
“But you brought me back.” She cupped his face in her hands. “I always knew you were there. Death didn’t have a chance against the Wall.”
A long silence.
“I reserve the right to go a little crazy,” he said at last.
She spread herself over him, skin to skin across their top halves. “Ditto.” Another kiss, his hands sliding across her, gentle over her bandages and bruises. She accepted his tenderness, his care, giving him back the same. “This feels so right,” she whispered against his lips.
Wolf-amber eyes looked back at her. “Good.”
“Arrogant.” But she was smiling, because her Riley was back.
They emerged an hour later to find the cabin deserted. Mercy grinned. “We scared them off.”
Riley’s smile was pure wolf as he balanced himself on crutches. “Made them jealous, too.”
Chuckling, she walked out to the porch . . . and felt her heart sigh in utter delight. “This is stunning.” They weren’t in the high Sierra, but neither were they down in DarkRiver territory. The firs were green, the air crisp but not cold, and the house—“Wow. Swiss chalet fused with mountain cabin.” She’d glimpsed a stone fireplace inside, and now saw the outside was made out of logs that blended the home seamlessly into the forest. “Whose place is this?”
“Ours.”
She stared at him. “What? Since when do you own this?”
“Five years ago.” He shrugged. “I had it built for my mate.”
“The cute little housewife?”
“I’m an idiot,” he said, “but obviously, I’m an idiot who even then knew he was an idiot.”
She folded her arms, staring daggers at him.
“Mercy, look around you. It’s rugged as hell. Can you see some submissive little creature surviving out here?”
Blinking, she did take a good look around. “She’d pee her pants at the first strange noise.” Arms lowered, she walked over and poked him in the chest. “Have you had other women here?”
“No one’s been here. I’ve never even spent a night inside.” Dropping one of the crutches, he reached up to cup her cheek. “I built it for two, not one.”
Well, she had to kiss him for that, didn’t she?
“Kitty cat,” he said, face solemn. “I’m sorry.”
She frowned. “For what? You had nothing to do with the explosion.”
“No . . . about your sentinel bond.”
Her heart clenched and then released as she realized . . . “I don’t feel any different.”
“You should.” Riley looked half worried, half relieved. “I definitely felt it when I got bonded, and there’s a connection to Hawke, to the other lieutenants. It’s hard to explain.”
“I know what you mean—it’s like being near a fire and feeling the warmth.” She shook her head. “And I tell you, I can still feel that warmth.”
“Well . . .” He ran his hand over her hair. “That’s good. But if you want to be physically closer to your pack, we can move.”
Ah, damn but the man had a way of saying the most tender things in that deep, solid voice of his. “I’m good.” And it was the truth. Being with her mate was . . . joy. Such joy that it filled every cell, made her blood golden with the beauty of it.
His head lowered even as she rose on tiptoe.
“Ahem.” A pointed cough. “Didn’t you two already get that out of your system?”
“Go away, Hawke,” Riley said without looking.
The wolf alpha came up the stairs and tugged on Mercy’s hair. “Red. Pretty.”
Mercy smiled . . . and flashed up her claws. But Hawke was already on the other side of the porch, a smirk on his face.
“Now, now,” he said, “I’m your alpha—”
“Bullshit.” Mercy sheathed her claws and turned so her back was cradled against Riley’s chest as he leaned on the railing. “I’m a DarkRiver sentinel.”
The wolf alpha’s eyes gleamed. “You sure about that?”
Catching a couple of familiar scents on the breeze, she waited. Lucas and Sascha stepped out of the forest a few minutes later. Mercy took one look at them and bit back a grin, but Hawke didn’t bother to resist the urge to make a comment.
“You have a leaf stuck in your hair, cat.”
Nonchalant, Lucas reached up to pull it off. “Jealous, wolf?”
“Boys,” Sascha said. “We’re here to discuss something important.” Walking up the steps, she hugged Mercy. “I’m so glad you two are alright.” There was a change in her eyes—an impossible new depth of soul, of empathy. And her scent . . .
Mercy’s leopard all but pounced on Sascha in excitement. “Holy crap! Congratulations!”
Sascha smiled, and glanced at Lucas. “I don’t think I can quantify our excitement.” Then she turned back. “But that’s not why I’m here. It’s about the Web of Stars and the equivalent thing with the wolves.”
“You should sit,” Lucas said, and he wasn’t talking to Mercy.