Psy & Changelings 11 - Tangle of Need

Though it was no longer a feral, possessive rush, but a gentle knowing at the back of his mind, in itself a strange thing, given that he was a predatory changeling male—then again, nothing about this situation was “normal” in any way.
    Hawke’s hair caught the light as the other man shook his head. “If I told you I had the answer, I’d be a liar.”
    “Yeah.” There was a single critical difference between his situation and Hawke’s—the child Hawke believed would have been his mate, had died when Hawke had been a boy. “If Rissa had lived…”
    “I wouldn’t have been the same man,” Hawke said simply. “I’d have been mated for years before I ever met Sienna, and that life would’ve shaped me in a wholly different way.” A wry smile. “Who knows, I might even have been a nice guy.”
    Unexpected amusement threaded through the tangled knot of Riaz’s emotions. “I can just see you baking cupcakes.”
    For some reason, that made Hawke howl with laughter before his alpha shifted and padded into the stream, the wild wolves following in his steps. Riaz’s own wolf stretched inside him, wanting out. He surrendered to the need, following Hawke across the stream and even higher up into the mountains. Their small pack loped at an easy pace, the wind rippling through their fur, the scents in the air sharp and brittle with cold.
    The beauty of the Sierra Nevada hit his heart anew and he wondered how he could’ve ever left this place of mountain and forest, lakes and rivers. It hurt his heart, the love he felt for this land. Scrambling up onto a small hillock formed by fallen rocks, he lifted his head and sang of his joy at being home … and of finding the one who was meant to be his. His pack joined in his song, and it was good.
    Padding back down, he ran again.
    When the pack halted, it was beside a mirror-perfect lake. Riaz assuaged his thirst before shifting, his mind if not calm, then at least a fraction less disordered. Sparks of color beside him denoted Hawke’s own shift. Neither of them spoke for long, quiet moments as the early eveningwind rustled through the trees, the fiery sky above curling with an edge of indigo blue.
    “Are you in the mating dance with Lisette?” Hawke asked at last, scratching the head of the wild wolf that had curled up beside him. “Because if you are, your wolf’s made the decision for you and trying to fight it will destroy you.”
    “No.” Neither man nor wolf wanted to be in the dance with Lisette—the idea of it felt wrong on every level, a betrayal so vast, it made his wolf snarl in defiance. “All Lisette and I ever had between us was a possibility.” And he knew in his gut that the time for that possibility to come to fruition had passed, regardless of any accepted rule. “Have you ever known a wolf in a relationship to find his mate?”
    Hawke took time to reply. “I’ve known couples who’ve been together for years to suddenly develop a mating bond. I’ve always thought that perhaps the human’s choice influences the wolf’s, or maybe two people come into perfect sync after that time together—kind of like Indigo and Drew knowing each other for so long before they mated.”
    Riaz understood what his alpha was saying, had seen the same thing himself, but—
    “That’s not the question I asked.”
    Husky-pale eyes locked with Riaz’s. “The answer is no. Love without the bond, where the wolf
accepts
the lover, rather than being neutral about it, seems to stop the mating bond coming into play with anyone else.” Pausing, he added, “Simplest explanation is that the commitment takes the place of the mating bond.”
    “So if I’d met Adria first”—fallen so fucking hard for her first—“I wouldn’t have to deal with this.” A situation where the woman he adored thought he was meant for another.
    “Yeah, likely.” Hawke patted the side of the wolf whose head he’d been scratching, and it reluctantly made room for another. “Dalton might know more about this than either one of us,” the alpha said, naming the pack’s Librarian, “but there is something else I can tell you.”
    Riaz waited.
    “The choice isn’t yours—it’s always the woman who accepts or rejects the bond.”
    “Hell it isn’t.” Riaz’sclaws sliced out of his skin. “The female might accept the bond, but I damn well bet you the male’s got to be willing. This one isn’t.” Once, he would’ve sold his soul to be Lisette’s, but something