A pause.
She waited, knowing her mate well enough to understand he was thinking things through. He was so logical that it delighted her each time he let go. And he had a habit of doing that in bed. Which reminded her, she needed to replace the iron headboard that had buckled under the force of his telekinesis last night. At least it had held up better than the wooden stuff. Hmm, maybe she should start thinking about futons.
"Your brother is used to being in charge," Judd said at last. "So is Mercy."
"Good."
"Why?"
God but she loved his honesty, his willingness to show her everything he was. "Riley," she said, turning to nuzzle at his throat, "has this image of a submissive female he'll be able to pamper and protect, but he'd never be able to truly be who he is with that woman." She shook her head. "He needs someone strong enough, tough enough, to refuse to put up with those walls he uses to keep everyone at a distance."
Even if he was too stubborn to see it.
After waving at Riley, Mercy took off at the speed of light. It didn't matter that Brenna had distracted him. She knew he'd come after her - she'd read the intent loud and clear on his face, in his scent.
It was why she'd pushed at him that way, picking at his possessive, territorial instincts - instincts she'd known would be running high after the events of the previous forty-eight hours. This time, he wouldn't be satisfied by anything other than a hard, sweaty bout of either raw sex or violence. And she knew very well which he'd choose. Her leopard smiled at the challenge, even as the feminine core of her tightened, readying itself in expectation.
Part of her wondered what the hell she was doing.
The rest of her didn't care.
Smile edged with excitement, she stayed in human form as she headed out of the White Zone, the safe area around the SnowDancer den, and into the huge tract of land beyond. This area wasn't patrolled, being pincered between the White Zone and the heavily guarded perimeter. It was the zone where the juvenile and adult wolves felt free to hunt, run . . . play.
Her legs jumped over a fallen log without her conscious command, her body moving with a rhythm that could come only from being changeling. She was fast, faster than any other female in DarkRiver. But she could feel him gaining on her. So she pushed and went impossibly faster.
If the wolf wanted her, he'd have to catch her.
Deep in her primal brain, she knew what she was doing. Dominant leopard women never came easily into a lover's arms. They tested their chosen male, made him prove he was capable of handling all the female had to give. More, that he was willing to fight to get it.
But Mercy wasn't ready to think about the implications of her challenge. All she knew was that this was the most exhilarating game of her life. She could scent Riley in the breeze as he ran behind her, feel the sheer weight of his intent. The wolf thought he had her. But she wasn't a leopard for nothing.
Not slowing down, she jumped onto a tree trunk, hooking herself with her claws. Climbing up with the feline grace built into her genes, she pulled herself up onto a branch, and quickly made her way to the end . . . to jump onto the next tree. And the next. There would be no trail below, nothing to tell him where she'd gone.
Well, except for her scent.
But he'd have to be fast to catch it . . . because her cat was cunning. She'd circled back on him, was going toward him as he ran her way. It would confuse the trail, make him head in one direction while she went in the other. And that was exactly what happened a few minutes later as he passed under her.
Disappointment cut through her, a hot, biting wound. She hadn't actually wanted him to fail. If she made it to the den before him, then she won, and though she might accept him back into her bed again, it would never be the same. Making a face, telling herself she wasn't that upset - liar, liar - she continued through the trees.
A hundred meters on, she realized she couldn't make a direct leap from tree to tree. Since Riley was way over in the wrong direction, she jumped off the branch and came to a crouching, catlike landing on the small clearing below.
A familiar hand closed around her throat from behind an instant later and she found herself hauled up against a firm, gorgeously male chest, his free arm clamping across her body to immobilize her own arms. Heat against her ear, the possessive brush of lips that she wanted to feel on every inch of her skin. "Gotcha."
She reacted on instinct, kicking backward with her legs as she attempted to wrench her body loose. All that got her was a grunt and some rough swearing before she was pressed front-first to a tree trunk, her hands manacled behind her back, her shoulders immobilized by his arm, and her legs held in place by heavy male thighs. He'd left her just enough leeway that she could turn her head.
Both of them were breathing hard, their animals at the forefront, but she was very aware of one thing. Through it all, Riley had taken every care not to hurt her. Even now, he was pressing into her with a fraction less strength than he should've done if he really wanted to keep her contained.
Test not only passed, but aced.
Because this was a game. Hurting your partner wasn't the aim. "Riley?"
"Yeah." He didn't break his hold, even as he pressed closer, his erection insistent against her lower back.
The tiny hairs on her body shivered in reaction. "I think you're sexy."
Riley narrowed his eyes at Mercy's teasing comment. "I'm not trusting a word that comes out of that pretty mouth until you acknowledge my dominance."
"If I do, will you use your pretty mouth to lick me between my legs?"