Psy & Changelings 11 - Tangle of Need

a couple of interruptions by packmates wanting to talk, it didn’t take long for Hawke to walk over to the den library, where he found his mate with her head downbent over a piece of paper on which she was writing formulas that made his brain ache. Physics and math texts lay open on several large datapads around her, and the small computer she’d signed out was running what appeared to be a complex equation.
    Putting his hands on either side of her desk from behind her, he nuzzled a kiss to the sensitive spot below her ear, the autumn and spice of her calming and invigorating his wolf at the same time. “Ms. Sienna Lauren Snow,” he teased, “what’re you doing working on something as archaic as paper?”

Chapter 25
    A HINT OF color on her cheekbones. “It helps me think.”
    Chuckling, he made a mental note to buy her a ream he’d seen at the little stationery store next to the shop that made the mechanical toys he collected—if he recalled right, the paper was specially formatted for the type of calculations she was doing. “How much do you have left to do today?” He knew she was working on an extra-credit project to gain early entry into an advanced course on thermodynamics—the behavior of energy.
    Sienna wasn’t certain the information would help her understand the cold fire that lived within her, but it couldn’t do any harm. Knowledge, he thought, gave her a control that had so often been stolen from her life.
    “A couple of hours,” she now said, tipping up her head, her hair catching on his shirt, “but I can do that tonight. I could do with a break.”
    He tapped her nose with his finger. “Come on then. I’m going to see Lucas—you can visit with Sascha.”
    “Oh, great! I haven’t cuddled Naya since several days before the mating ceremony.” She quickly stacked the datapads neatly in her cubicle, then gathered up and put her computer and notes away in the attached locker. “I’m ready.”
    They were halfway to the garage when Toby ran up to them, a small backpack slung over one lanky shoulder. “Are you going out? Can I come?” he asked, pushing back hair that wasn’t anywhere close to the cardinal night-sky of his eyes. Habit, Hawke thought, wolf grinning at the memory of the haircut he’d given the boy.
    Sienna reached out to straighten his collar. “You complete your kitchen chores?”
    “He did,” Hawke answered to Toby’s grin. “Brought me some food not long ago.”
    “I even finished my homework,” the boy added, and got the permission he’d requested to join them. Smiling, he fell in beside them. “We got out of school early today, and we don’t have to start till after ten tomorrow because we have a night class.” Toby all but vibrated with excitement. “Elias and Sam are going to teach us how to track in the dark. It’s going to be real late, when everything’s quiet.”
    Hawke remembered those classes from his own youth, the memories poignant … because his lieutenant father had been one of the teachers. Looking at Toby’s eager face, it seemed impossible that he’d ever been that young, but his wolf vividly recalled stalking through the nocturnal whispering of the forest, trying to be quiet, so quiet. It made him proud that in spite of everything that had happened, SnowDancer’s young continued to have the chance to be children, to learn and play and grow.
    “Where are we going?” Toby asked once he’d finished regaling them about Eli and Sam’s plans.
    “To see Sascha.”
    “Great!” Toby scrambled excitedly into the backseat of the SUV when they reached the garage. Though he was a great kid, Hawke’s wolf worried about his good behavior. The boy had never
once
been in trouble—and that was completely unheard of for a pup his age. Hawke was concerned Toby was afraid of acting out, for fear the people he loved would leave him—as his mother had when she suicided.
    He’d spoken about it to Judd and Walker, as well as Sienna, and they were all keeping a quiet eye on the boy. However, Sascha—who spent regular time with Toby, teaching him how to handle his empathic abilities—had told Hawke not to worry. “He’s very centered and happy. If I’m a normal case as far as empaths are concerned, you’ll have more trouble with him around fourteen to sixteen.
    “I didn’t consciously understand it then of course, but my abilities went hypersensitive about that time. I used to swing from anger to joy tofrustration within the space of a