Tangle of Need

MERCY watched the lights of Dorian’s car fade into the trees, just as Riaz disappeared into the forest, Drew and Tai by his side, Indigo, Evie, and Adria up ahead. Judd and Brenna had left a little earlier, as they both had an early start the next day, and Bas had hitched a ride with her middle brother, Sage, who’d turned up an hour ago. The final two, Hawke and Sienna, intended to take a different route to the den from Riaz’s group.

“Hey, Sienna,” Mercy called out, and when the young woman turned to look over her shoulder, said, “You know the whole ‘let me show you a beautiful spot’ line? It’s the changeling version of ‘let me show you my etchings.’”

Hawke slung an arm around his grinning mate and dragged her close. “Riley, show your mate your own etchings so she doesn’t worry about mine.”

Mercy laughed at the bad-tempered snarl, leaning back into Riley’s embrace. “You showed me quite a few etchings after Sienna did her nuclear battery thing,” she murmured as the other couple walked into the star-dusted night.

“First time I wore you out.” Riley’s lips brushed her neck, his voice a teensy bit smug.

Leopard and woman both had to admit he was entitled. “Too bad the energy wave didn’t cross over to me.” It had proven that the connection between the SnowDancer and DarkRiver webs formed by their mating, was very much only a mating bond. Nothing else came through. As a result, after Sienna’s abilities went supernova, Riley had been bursting out of his skin with energy—all of it focused oh-so-sexily on Mercy—while she’d alternately moaned in breathless pleasure and begged for sleep.

The memory made her toes curl. “Got any new etchings to show me?” She closed her hands over his arms, loving the warm, solid feel of him. My Riley.

“As a matter of fact…” Riley nuzzled at Mercy. “Want to go for a walk first?” The night was stunning as only a Sierra night could be, lit by a full moon and a million stars.

Mercy did a feline stretch in his arms. “I feel too lazy after Bas’s concoctions. Can I sit in your lap instead?”

“Come here, kitty cat.” Tugging her back, he took a seat in one of the large cushioned wicker chairs her parents had gifted them on their mating. Mercy immediately curled into him, her legs hanging over the arm of the chair, her head against his shoulder. Fiery curls of hair cascaded down his arm where he braced her back, the lithe muscle of her thigh warm under his other hand.

Content in a way he’d rarely been before Mercy, he simply stroked her until she purred. It delighted him as it always did. “I made you purr.”

A lazy yawn. “I’m faking it.”

Lips curving, he dipped his head to kiss her. It was a familiar exchange, a little private game they could play because they were utterly besotted with one another. The word “besotted” had first been used by a disgusted Sage, but Riley didn’t mind being besotted with Mercy. “Fake it some more,” he said, his hand on her abdomen.

However, when she tilted back her head, a smile tugging at her lips, he froze, caught by a delicate softness to her features that struck him out of nowhere. Mercy wasn’t a vulnerable woman—and yet at that instant, his wolf roared to the surface, wanting to protect, to shelter, to take care of her. The urge was so violent that he fisted a hand in her hair, the one on her abdomen flexing until all his tendons stood out in stark relief.

“Riley? What’s wrong?” Sitting up from her languorous position, Mercy ran her hands through his hair, over his nape, down his chest.

Petting him. She was petting him in an effort to comfort.

“Talk to me, tough guy.” Open concern, her eyes night-glow.

Riley tried to fight the primitive impulse, only to feel it shoving back with so much urgency he stood no chance. Shocked, he shuddered as the wolf took over, but instead of using that control to initiate the shift, it retreated … leaving him with a luminous piece of knowledge, a brilliant faceted jewel that almost blinded.

“Oh,” he whispered, looking down. “I didn’t understand.” It was an apology to his wolf. “It’s my first time.”

Mercy tugged on his hair. Hard. “You’re scaring me.”

He looked up, wonder in every heartbeat. “Guess what?”

Mercy’s gaze dropped to where he’d spread his hand. She went motionless, eyes huge. “Riley, are we—Do you—How—”

“Yes,” he answered. “We are, and I know because a changeling male always knows before anyone else when it comes to his mate.” He’d heard the healers hypothesize that the realization was caused by a minute change in a woman’s scent, a change so subtle no one else would sense anything, but that the wolf in Riley had scented at once.

Mercy’s eyes held equal parts shock, and delight. “Riley.”

He felt his lips stretch even wider. “I think we need to celebrate with some brand-new etchings.”

His cat’s laugh was surprised and warm and the sound of home. “It’s your etchings that got us into this position.” Stealing a kiss when he bent his head, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m so happy.” It was a conspiratorial whisper.