The power balance between Indigo and Drew was far different to that between Felix and Desiree. The dominant default was to fight, even against a stronger predator.
Coming to sit beside him, Drew bumped Felix’s shoulder with his own. “I bet Riley fifty bucks that you and Dezi had a fight.”
Well aware Drew’s older brother was far too mature to take the bet, Felix didn’t rise to the bait. But he did need to talk, and this dangerous, playful tracker was a friend he trusted deeply. “It was worse than a fight, Drew.” Blowing out a breath, he thought about how much to admit, his pride having taken a severe beating. “I—” He shook his head, banging the back of it against the tree trunk in a staccato rhythm. “She touched my throat with her teeth.”
“Well,” Drew said quietly, “that can be extremely hot, or extremely bad if the trust isn’t there first.”
“I should’ve been able to handle it.”
“Bullshit.” Drew snorted. “If Hawke went for my throat, I’d freeze the fucking hell where I was and start thinking of ways to convince him that whatever he thought I did, I didn’t do it.”
Felix knew Drew, knew how the other man used humor to get through to people, but he couldn’t laugh this time. “Hawke isn’t your lover.”
“That’s true. He’s not really my type. I mean, with that hair and everything.” Tapping his own empty water bottle against his thigh, Drew said, “Look, Felix, you two tried to rush things and it looks like you got burned. You have to figure out if you want it enough to risk the burn again, or if it’s time to move on.”
Felix couldn’t stop thinking about Desiree, but she hadn’t turned up tonight. So maybe she’d already made that decision for both of them. “When you were going after Indigo, doing all that stuff to court her”—some of it pretty outrageous—“where’d you get the confidence?”
“Desperation.” Drew’s lips tugged up in a lopsided smile. “I was crazy for her and not about to give up just because she wanted to treat me like a teenager.”
A feminine growl sounded from behind them. “I treated you like the menace you are,” Indigo said, striding over to look down at Drew.
Unabashed, the other male grinned and curved one hand around his mate’s calf. “I scented you, Lieutenant.”
“Smart-ass.” Indigo held out a hand, and when Drew took it, tugged her mate up to his feet.
Felix watched the easy movement, watched as Drew stole a kiss then whispered something in Indigo’s ear, and he felt the hunger inside him spread and grow. Deep and rooted and directed very much toward a certain cat.
“You on watch with me, Indy?”
Drew’s voice as he spoke to Indigo broke into Felix’s thoughts, reminded him he needed to get up and moving. By the time he put away his gloves and other tools, then checked the seedlings one last time, Indigo and Drew had continued on to their watch positions—having made sure to say good-bye before they left.
Drew had mouthed, Worth the burn? to him before disappearing into the trees.
Dezi was definitely worth the burn, Felix thought, suddenly angry that she’d so easily walk away. Scowling, he pulled open the door to the truck, then slammed it shut without getting in. He was in no mood to get into a vehicle. Stripping, he threw his clothes in the open back, and shifted. His wolf flowed out of him in a shower of light, the shift an exquisite agony and a piercing pleasure. When it was over, he shook himself to settle the white-streaked light brown of his fur. And then he went tracking.
• • •
Desiree wasn’t used to walking away. From anything. She was the kind of person who got the bit between her teeth and didn’t let go. It was part of what made her such a good senior soldier for the pack. So keeping her distance from Felix was taking one hell of an effort. Smashing fist after fist into the punching bag that hung in one of the trees not far from her aerie—thanks to the area’s use as a training ground—she tried to punch out her fury and her need.
It had all seemed so simple the previous night. She was bad for Felix’s self-confidence and he was bad for hers; they’d be better off apart. “It was just a bloody erection,” she muttered now, pummeling the bag in a rapid-fire burst, the ponytail in which she’d scraped back her braids hitting her