Nalini Singh: Wild Invitation

God, she was so angry with him.

• • •

WALKER had just escorted the last of his charges home and was about to head into the infirmary to look in on Tyler when he glimpsed Marlee and Toby in the White Zone. They were both involved in their own activities and didn’t see him, for which he was thankful. Leaning against the outer wall of the den, the stone covered with a fine fern that meant it was invisible to aerial surveillance, he drew in a long, deep breath and fought the urge to wrench both children into his arms.

So quickly, he could’ve lost Tyler today.

Releasing the breath he’d taken, he turned to look at the woman who walked toward him, frowning when he realized he hadn’t sensed her until she was almost to him.

“Tyler’s awake.” She joined him against the stone of the den. “He doesn’t remember what happened, which is a blessing, I think.”

Reaching down, he closed his fingers over hers, found them chilled. “How are you?” Her face was drawn, lines of strain around her mouth. “Sienna’s power didn’t replenish you?”

“I didn’t need it. This was more about unmitigated concentration.” She broke their handclasp to wave at Marlee when their daughter looked over.

“And you?” Lara asked softly once Marlee had returned to her conversation with her friends. “It must’ve been terrifying to see Tyler collapse, begin to suffocate.”

The fact was, Walker’s mind had slid into a hyper-calm phase the instant he realized what was happening, his emotions under lockdown. He’d made sure the boy’s airway wasn’t totally closed, given orders for the two oldest in his group to take care of the others, and then he’d gone to Lara. All the while, a fierce protective fury had raged beneath the calm. He would not lose any more children under his command.

Not as he’d lost so many of the child Arrows, their bodies and minds breaking under the pitiless regime of training, no matter what Walker did to alleviate their suffering. He remembered each and every face, each and every name. They haunted him. He refused to add another ghost to their number.

When he opened his mouth, however, what came out was, “I’m fine,” and it was a response fed by the decades he’d lived in the cage of Silence, his mind still on autopilot. “I’d like to see him.” He reached for her hand again, needing her on a visceral level.

Lara folded her arms.

Every muscle in his body froze, and he barely heard her say, “Tyler would enjoy a visit,” through the rush of blood in his ears.

“What’s wrong?” Only once before—during their turbulent courtship—had Lara pulled away from him. That day, he’d drowned in bleak despair; today, a hot flame of anger licked at him. Because he knew she’d only do something like that if she was hurting. And still she didn’t speak, didn’t tell him what had wounded her. “Lara.”

“You’re doing it again,” she whispered at last, the simmering anger in her tone seeded with a fine vein of pain that cut like a razor. “I know you’re angry, and yet here”—she thumped a fist against her chest—“I feel nothing . Just this mirage of peace that you throw at me to block me from seeing you.” A single tear rolled down her cheek. “Why would you do that, Walker?”

He’d gone motionless at her first words, welcomed the whack of the errant soccer ball that bounced against his leg. Jerking, he kicked it back and gripped Lara’s forearm when she would’ve turned and walked away. “You knew who I was when you accepted my courtship.” If she couldn’t take him as he was, the fractures inside him would be permanent and irreversible.

“And you knew who I was.” Wolf amber brilliant against the lush hue of her skin. “I’m not fragile. I won’t break if you let me see your pain, your fury, your worry.”

It felt as if she’d kicked him in the heart. “I’ve told you things I’ve told no one else on this earth.” He wanted to yell, but his voice came out deadly calm.

“Yes.” Tears shone wet in the amber, her voice dropping to a whisper, “It means everything that you invited me into your secrets. Everything.”

The panic struggled to recede under her passionate vow, hit a snag. “Then why?” Why was she walking away from him, ripping him to pieces?

“It’s not enough to allow me into your past if you shut me out of your present. Our present,” she said softly. “I need to walk beside you, to be your shield as you’re mine. I can’t handle being shut out, being cut off when I know you’re in pain.”

His heart thudded in his mouth, his skin going hot then cold. “If I can’t be that open?” He’d learned too young how to keep his mind contained, his emotions hidden, especially in high-stress situations.

“ No , Walker.” Her voice was fierce, the curls that had escaped the clip at the back of her head catching the fading red-orange sunlight as she shook her head. “You don’t get an easy pass, don’t get to give in without even trying. I know the strength of your will better than anyone!”

WALKER WASN’T CERTAIN what to expect from Lara when he came home that night after a scheduled meeting with packmates whose responsibilities in the den were either similar to or aligned with his own. Maternals, teachers, coaches, other “wranglers,” they got together regularly to ensure no pup missed out on the attention he or she needed to thrive. His head hadn’t been in the game, the need for solitude beating at him, but he’d leashed his chaotic emotions because such meetings were even more important now than they had been before the battle.

As a result of all they’d had to discuss, the meeting had run late, and the apartment was silent when he entered. Looking into Marlee’s room, he saw her sprawled out in sleep, her arms and legs thrown every which way. It made him want to smile. She’d been like that since she was a babe. Silence hadn’t managed to “fix” her before the family defected.

He tugged up her blanket, kissed a soft, sleep-warm cheek, then gave a light knock on Toby’s door, entering only when Toby called out. The boy was now of an age where he needed his privacy, something Walker had to make a conscious effort to remember—to him, Toby would always be his sister’s baby boy, given to him in trust.

“Hi.” His nephew put down the spy novel he’d been reading, the digital cover displayed on his reader a garish orange with black silhouettes.

Walker took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Are you sure you’re old enough to be reading that?”

Toby’s response was a grin.

They talked for a few minutes, with Toby telling him of being put in charge of a junior soccer team. “Pups think rules are suggestions.” He rolled his eyes, but Walker could tell he was pleased by the responsibility.

Ruffling the boy’s hair, Walker rose. “You’ll do well.” The words said so much less than what he felt, his pride in Toby a huge thing.

A steady look. “I know, I just copy the things I see you doing. I want to be like you.”

Heart twisting, he bent down to hug that gangly body, felt Toby’s arms lock around him. And he knew he had much to learn from this boy who was his blood. Toby’s openness of heart was a courage not many possessed. “Don’t stay up too late,” was all he said when he drew back, but Toby smiled the smile of a child who had no doubts about his place in his family’s heart.

“Goodnight, Uncle Walker.”

“Goodnight, Toby.”

Lara was also propped up in bed reading when he entered their bedroom.

He’d never been a man who hesitated, but he did so tonight, unsure how to read her silence. Lara always talked to him, even when she was angry. Walking to the shower without breaking that silence, he shrugged off his clothing and stepped under the heated spray. Once there, he focused not on the way she’d left him this afternoon, striding off without a backward look, but on how she felt inside him, her love unshaken.