Wild Invitation A Psy Changeling Anthology - By Nalini Singh Page 0,140
did her.
Making a note to share the details of the telepathic conversation with Lara later, Walker watched his mate pick up the milk Toby had brought. "Marlee?
Why don't you have this, sweetheart." Releasing Lara's hand at last, their daughter scrambled off his lap. "I'm too big," she said, a flush of red on her cheekbones.
But she accepted Lara's cuddle and kiss despite her embarrassment, then leaned her back against Lara's legs while she drank the milk. "I acted like a baby," she said after downing half the glass.
Toby poked her in the side. "You are the baby of the family, Marlee-Barley."
"Am not." A glare directed at her cousin, she finished the milk and put the glass back on the bedside table. "And you're babier than Sienna."
"Babier isn't even a word." Toby grabbed her body in his arms when she whirled toward him, both of them laughing as Toby pretended to defend himself from Marlee's "claws."
Lara smiled and leaned her back against Walker. Wrapping his arms around her, he propped his chin on the springy silk of her curls and watched the children, his lips kicking up at their innocent joy. Then Lara laughed as Marlee let out a perfect imitation of a wolfish growl, sending Toby into a fit of uncontrollable laughter that made his nephew easy prey, and his smile turned into a grin.
My family. My mate.
A fox-bright gaze met his as Lara twisted around to look at him, almost as if she'd heard his thoughts. "It's nice, isn't it?" A smiling kiss pressed to his jaw. "Our own little pack."
"Yes."
Texture of Intimacy Epilogue
LARA COULDN'T BELIEVE it was already the night of their mating ceremony. Held in the arms of her mate as they swayed to the music from the live jazz band, she looked around the Pack Circle, the dance area in the center surrounded by wooden picnic tables.
Those tables held an array of delicacies that had the children and adults both in raptures - her mother, Lara thought with a smile, had no doubt been planning the menu since the day Lara mated Walker.
Giant painted butterflies decorated several trees; Marlee's contribution to the plan. The wooden creatures had been cut out and glued together by Toby and his friends before being painted by Marlee, Sienna, Evie, Brenna, and a number of the younger members of the pack, including a rambunctious but wildly talented Ben.
"Look at what my baby did," Ava had said with delight earlier that day, pointing to a butterfly painted with a joyful enthusiasm that made the creature seem alive. "The Stone artistic talent clearly runs true."
Now, that butterfly and the others shimmered in the fairy lights that lit up the early evening darkness, the sound of their packmates voices and the children's laughter intertwining with the music to create a harmony unique to this moment.
"Happy?" Walker's breath brushed her temple, the masculine heat of him making her wolf rub up against her skin, as it had against his hand when she'd shifted for their early morning run.
"So happy."
The pack's pleasure in their match had been clear since the day word got out about Walker's courtship, but Lara hadn't realized the full extent of it until tonight. Kisses on the cheek, hugs, whispered congratulations accompanied by thoughtful gifts, they kept coming.
Walker had found himself shaking hands with people throughout the night, been hugged by countless children.
"Are you having fun?" she asked, aware he preferred to stay out of the limelight.
"I get to celebrate you." A slow curve of his lips. "It's a perfect night."
"Walker."
Bending his head and sliding one hand around her nape, he kissed her slow and with exquisite patience...so long and deep that howls went up around them. But her mate didn't release her until he was good and ready. Flustered and pleasured, her hands fisted on the fine cotton of his white shirt, she drew in a trembling breath. "Just when I thought I could predict what you'd do next..." Walker ran his thumb across her lip, his other hand splayed on her lower back to hold her close. "I love you more than I'll ever be able to say, ever be able to describe. You're my starlight on a dark night."
Eyes burning at the stark beauty and romance of his declaration, she whispered, "You just did."
He went motionless. "Lara, did you hear that?"
"Yes, of course," she said, sniffing away the happy tears. "It's not that noisy."
Walker's lips curved, and then he was grinning in a way he hardly ever did outside the privacy of their home. Can you hear this, too?
"Yes, I - " Her eyes went wide as she realized she hadn't seen his mouth shape the words. "This is impossible." She knew of two changeling/Psy couples who had a level of true telepathic communication between them, but there were unusual circumstances in both cases. "I don't have any Psy genes." Walker cupped her face, bending his knees so they were eye to eye. "Yes, but you have an ability that may as well be a Psy one. It makes rational sense that there is a connection, even if changeling healing is no longer recognized as a true psychic gift."
Lara tried to think, lost the thread, her mind a place of delirious chaos.
"Let's talk about the logic of it later." Bubbling with excitement, she was the one who kissed him this time, nipping at his lower lip, suckling the sensual hurt, her wolf all but bursting out of her skin.
"Can you hear me, if I think hard?" Walker cocked his head, frowned.
"No. But it may develop in time." Knowing that the telepathy only went one way for now didn't diminish her excitement in the least, not when she'd just been given the greatest of gifts, the ability to hear the beautiful things her Walker thought about her.
"Talk to me," she whispered, snuggling close. "I like hearing you inside my mind."
His cheeks creased. Did I tell you how very, very much I like your dress?
"No." She linked her hands around his neck, his own on the waist of her flirty red halter-neck dress. "And I didn't tell you how sexy you look in this suit." The steel gray was perfect on him.
"It makes me want to grip this tie and haul you off to our bedroom."
You won't hear a protest from me.
Reaching down to fiddle with one of the buttons on his shirt as they continued to sway to the music, she said,