PLAY OF PASSION

A fate worse than death.

Deciding to work SnowDancer’s Psy contacts when morning broke, he focused on the image of the bedroom he shared with his mate, and then … he was home. Dressed in a strawberry satin and white lace slip, Brenna lay curled up on his side of the futon. She always did that when he wasn’t with her, as if she was holding him close even in sleep.

Taking off his clothes with a silent grace that came from a lifetime of training, he slipped in beside her, and then, bracing himself on one arm, leaned down to press a kiss to the silky warm curve of her neck.

She shivered, her body relaxing from its curled-up position as she turned to face him, her hands reaching out to press against his pectorals. “Judd.” It was a sleepy murmur of welcome, her wolf apparent in the brilliant night-glow he glimpsed between her barely parted lids.

Claiming her lips with his own, he moved his hand down over her pretty little nightdress until he found skin. Then he indulged in a pleasure that seemed to get ever more piercing, ever more intense. Once, he hadn’t been able to touch her without causing himself pain. Now, it only hurt when he didn’t touch her.

Though the day dawned clear and bright, the sun promising a brilliant show, Indigo was in a snippy mood and she knew it well enough to keep it under control. It wasn’t the fault of these poor teenagers milling in the White Zone that Drew was an idiot who’d changed everything between them with an imbecilic play for sex—then made the whole thing worse by refusing to face up to it.

Beating her snippiness into submission, she helped one of the juveniles tighten the straps of her small pack. “You looking forward to today, Silvia?”

The girl swallowed, flushing under the lush coffee of her skin, and her words, when they came out, were hesitant. “I’m not strong like you.”

And that, Indigo thought, was even more of a problem than the control issues of the dominant males. “You listen to me,” she said, cupping the girl’s cheek, able to feel the soft down of youth against her callused palm, “we soldiers are the brawn, the muscle. It’s the maternal females like you who are the heart of the pack. You’re the glue that holds us together. Far as I’m concerned, you’re the strongest part of SnowDancer.”

Silvia blinked those long, silky lashes, leaning her cheek a little into Indigo’s touch. “I … my mom said … but it’s nice to hear it from you.”

Smiling, Indigo hugged her, and they walked over to join the rest of the group. Twelve kids between the ages of thirteen and seventeen. All simply needing a little bit of extra attention to get them back on the right track. “Everyone ready?”

A sea of nods.

“I thought Drew was coming,” said a slender young male with a thick mop of pale brown hair and a voice that was far too deep for his scrawny body. It’d be perfect when Brace grew into those shoulders, but right now, he tended to flush whenever he spoke up.

“He can catch up.” Okay, so maybe she wasn’t over the snippy. “Follow me.”

She set a steady pace—not so easy that they got bored, not so hard that they couldn’t keep up—taking them up into an unusual part of the mountains, one of such exquisite beauty it could make the heart stop, but an area even the pack rarely visited because it was more difficult to get to than so many other gorgeous spots. However, right now, it had the benefit of being almost entirely clear of snow, while comparable areas in the southern section of the Sierra remained packed with the white stuff.

They stopped for snacks around midmorning. No sign of Drew.

If he left her alone all weekend, she’d strip his hide. “Come on,” she said, hoping her inner snarl didn’t show. “We’re not even halfway yet.”

Pained groans, but she knew they were faking. She’d felt their exhilaration as they tested their bodies, as they loosened up enough to speak to her, ask her questions. So she upped the speed, knowing they could take it, that they’d be proud of it. But they were still exhausted when they walked over the edge of a hill and to the spot where she intended to break for lunch … to find the plateau set with a huge picnic blanket holding fruit, drinks, sandwiches, cake, and, of course, potato chips.

But it wasn’t only food waiting for them.

Drew bent at the waist, a checkered tea towel folded dramatically over his arm. “Welcome to my kitchen.”

Indigo clenched her stomach muscles against the shock of seeing him face-to-face after having mentally eviscerated him for most of the journey. The juveniles had no such qualms. Cheering, they descended upon the feast as if every single one of them hadn’t gorged on trail bars and dried fruit a bare couple of hours ago.