Wild Invitation

Lashes rising, irises of a striking light green meeting her own. Not soft.

Walker would never be that. But his gaze was...open in a way it had never before been. Until she felt invited into him.

Body aligned with the dark heat of his, she ran her finger through his hair and asked, "Are the kids okay?" He continued to stroke her back, the calluses on his palm creating sensual friction against her greedy skin.

So long she'd waited for Walker's touch.

It had torn her to pieces, made her bleed when he'd told her this could never be, his soul too scarred by the emotionless chill that was Silence. Now she knew that though the power-hungry Council had attempted to condition emotion out of him, they had never succeeded, his heart so powerful he'd managed to love even in the pitiless cage of the PsyNet.

His daughter.

His niece and nephew.

His lost sister.

His brother.

They had been, and were, a family because of Walker, because he'd refused to allow them to fragment, refused to give up on any one of them, whether cold-eyed assassin or heartbroken child.

"Yes, they're fine," he said in response to her question, no change in his expression to betray the fact he was in telepathic communication with the kids. "Toby and his friends are shooting hoops with Drew, and Marlee's with Ava."

"Ava's a good friend." Given the speed and accuracy of the pack grapevine, the other woman had likely heard that Walker Lauren was inside Lara's bedroom about two minutes after the event. Lara knew her best friend would ambush her later for a debriefing, but until then, Ava was doing her best to ensure they had some more private time.

"Marlee just told me Ben's snoring in wolf form, she made him so tired." Laughter bubbled up in her throat, an image of an utterly exhausted wolf pup curled up nose to tail forming in her mind. "Poor Ben."

Ava's son adored Marlee, the unexpected friendship between the two innocent and joyful. Ben was five and a half, Marlee four years older, but in spite of the age gap, they made each other laugh until they ended up rolling around on the floor, holding onto their stomachs. Lara wasn't the only one in the pack who wondered if the friendship was an indicator of a far different relationship in the future, but they were babies yet.

Before she could give voice to her thoughts, Walker's eyes caught hers, held them. "I'm not likely to be an easy mate."

The stark statement was unexpected, but she knew her answer, "I think you're wonderful. My perfect mate."

"Remember that," he said, continuing to hold her gaze, the intensity of him a near physical touch. "When you ask yourself what you're doing with me."

A sudden fear gripped her, an amorphous, cold thing born of his certainty that their mating would be no simple dance. Shoving it away before it could take her hostage, her wolf's teeth bared in a snarl, she held on to the glory of a bond that came from a place beyond fear or doubt, a place untainted by the shadows of the past.

All she said, however, was, "All right," because she knew Walker. He'd been marked deep within by the life he'd lived, the choices he'd had to make. It would take him time to trust in happiness, in a forever where he no longer walked alone. "But make me a promise?"

Watchful attention, his hand stilling its caressing strokes.

"That you'll talk to me if there's a problem. Don't close up on me." It was what she feared most. She knew that while in the PsyNet, Walker had managed to maintain the fiction of total Silence, of unrelenting emotionlessness, icy and without heart, even as he fought to save his family. His fidelity to them had been unwavering, his dedication absolute. And throughout it all, no one had suspected that Walker Lauren was anything but loyal to the ruling order.

That kind of a will could turn into a stone wall.

Walker's answer was no simple agreement. "I'll try, Lara." His hand pressed her closer. "But the quiet, if not the Silence, is a part of me."

"I like your quiet." He was so centered, so solid that he'd become her anchor. "The only thing that'll hurt me is if you use that quiet as a weapon."

"That won't happen." A vow, simple and binding.

She smiled and knew it held everything of what she felt for him, her soul stripped bare. Some would say she was at a huge disadvantage in this relationship, her emotions naked while his were shielded behind a thousand layers of control, but she knew differently. Never would she forget the day he handed her his heart.

"It's fixed. As long as you don't mind more than a few scars." Scarred and battered it might be, but Walker's heart was a gift beyond price.

"Marlee," she said, throat thick with emotion, "must have come as quite a surprise." Walker's daughter was a talker, cheerful and with an infectious laugh. Her delight with the world was so open, so innocent that she appeared younger than her years, but Lara had seen Marlee's schoolwork - the girl was blazingly intelligent. She simply loved life.

"I don't know where she gets it from." The faint smile on his lips faded even as he spoke. "The Marlee you know, she wasn't that girl in the Net." Lara thought back to the day the Lauren family had walked into the den, more than three years ago. Unconscious at the time, Marlee had been in Sienna's arms, Toby in Walker's, the boy much shorter and lighter than he was these days. Both children had been hit hard by the backlash of separation from the PsyNet, the psychic network that provided the Psy race with the biofeedback necessary for life. It also kept them leashed, at the mercy of the Council and of a protocol that forbade joy, affection, and love. The only reason the Laurens had survived was that they'd reconnected their minds in a tiny familial network.

Judd was the first one she'd seen, his assassin's gaze never moving off the grim-eyed SnowDancer soldiers who'd escorted the family into the infirmary.

She'd known at once that he'd kill to protect the others. Then her eyes had connected with those of lightest green; she'd seen the way the stranger held the child in his arms, and she'd understood that this man might well be the more dangerous one in spite of his outward calm.

Marlee, when she'd woken at last, had been a shell-shocked waif, all huge eyes the same shade as her father's in a bone-white face. It had taken months for her cheeky, vivacious personality to emerge. Walker, Lara realized, had had to watch for years as his daughter was taught to be a well-mannered cog in the PsyNet machine, her spirit crushed at every turn.

Cupping his face, she said, "You got her out, made sure she'll never have to Silence her personality again." An unexpected glint of humor. "I dare anyone to attempt to Silence Marlee now."

Lara laughed, then gasped as his hand moved over her lower curves. "I see you're fully awake."

"Hmm." It was a low, deep sound she'd become used to in the hours since their mating, the sound her mate made when he was far more interested in something else.

Initiating a kiss as he brought her over his body, her nipples rubbing against the crisp abrasion of his chest and one of his hands fisted in her hair, Lara was thinking this was a fine, fine way to wake up from a nap when the comm beeped.

She groaned, her body crying foul.

"I have to get that." As SnowDancer's healer, she never ignored a comm alert.

Walker was already reaching out to press the audio-only answer key on the touchscreen. "It's not an emergency code."

"Doesn't mean anything. Some of the juveniles break a leg, then don't use the emergency code because they 'can take the pain.'" Shifting to lie flat on her back, she wrenched her frustrated body under some sort of control, as Walker said, "Yes?" into the comm.

A startled silence, followed by a hesitant young voice. "Um...can I talk to Lara?"

Recognizing it, Lara sat up.

"Silvia?" The girl was one of the most stable teens in the pack, and she wouldn't be calling Lara now if it wasn't important. "What's happened?"

"I just got back on one of the evac transports."

Inside her, Lara's wolf raised its head in a howl, happy that more and more of the pack's young had begun to return to the den from the safe areas where they'd weathered the storm of battle. "Go on," she encouraged the girl when Silvia hesitated.

"I know you must be exhausted" -

apology in every syllable - "but the pup I was buddied up with won't stop crying because his mom and dad aren't here. I would contact the nursery, but I know how much Mason likes you..."

"I'll be right there." Already up, she began to pull on her jeans, aware of Walker doing the same. "In the meantime, tell Mason his parents are fine. Your group came in a couple of hours early - his mom and dad are still out on the perimeter."

When she finished dressing and turned, it was to find Walker with a cell phone in hand. "I'll get in touch with them."

Promising herself she'd pet her way across that finely honed chest tonight, she blew him a kiss and jogged to the area just outside the den that was the drop-off zone.

"Lara!" Mason whimpered and clung to her like a little monkey the instant he saw her.

"Hush now, baby." Cuddling him, Lara pulled back enough that she was looking into his eyes. Unlike Silvia, she was an adult, the hierarchy crystal clear  - Mason's wolf snapped to attention, even as his rich brown eyes swam huge and wet. "Your mom and dad are on their way," she said, certain Walker would've ensured that outcome. "They aren't hurt."

His lower lip quivered. "Coming?"

"Yes. They're so excited to see you again." Kissing his wet cheek, she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Now your bus has arrived super early and surprised them. Did it have wings?"

The boy shook his head. "No...I didn't see."

"Shall we go have a look?"

The three of them were walking around the armored evac vehicle, Mason engrossed with checking every nook and cranny for wings, when two out-of-breath adults burst into the clearing.