Wild Invitation

sprawled down to nibble at it with surprising neatness. “They are so adorable at this age.” Affection in every syllable.
    “Want one of your own?”
    Her fingers, having curved around his biceps, squeezed. “Walker…are you serious?” Huge eyes. “I wasn’t sure— After—I took care that I wouldn’t accidentally fall pregnant.”
    Cupping her cheek, he shook his head, humbled once again by the depth and generosity of her love. “There is no comparison.” His painful experience at Yelene’s hand, when he’d lost his unborn child to her mercenary desire to protect her own “uncontaminated genetic line,” didn’t blind him to the truth that Lara would fight to the death to protect their children. “I want to have more children, and I want to have them with you.”
    Her eyes shone wet, her voice shaky when she spoke. “Changelings are less fertile than Psy or humans, so it might take time, but I hope not.” Throwing her arms around his neck, she rained kisses on his face, her happiness a luminous warmth. “Marlee and Toby will be such good older siblings. I don’t want too big an age gap.”
    Throat thick, he held her tight. No one would’ve blamed her for forgetting Toby and Marlee at this moment, but she hadn’t, her heart huge.
    A cold nose poked between them, followed by a wiggling body, Ben excited to join in their fun, though his curious eyes said he didn’t understand what had just occurred. Chuckling, Walker brought the pup into their embrace.
    “Yes,” Lara said, laving more affection on the boy, “I want one just like him…with his daddy’s green eyes.”

Chapter 7
    LARA ENSURED SHE was fertile again the second she returned to the infirmary, every cell in her body humming with anticipation at the thought of nurturing a life in her womb, a life created out of the shattering beauty of the love she felt for her mate. Healers didn’t have an advantage over the rest of the population when it came to conception, but she hoped with all her might that it wouldn’t be too long.
    Even if it did take time, the delay mattered less than the fact the terrible wound in Walker’s heart was, if not healed, then at least no longer debilitating. Slowly but surely, her fascinating, complex, wonderful mate was throwing off the lingering shackles of Silence and showing her the parts of himself he’d had to bury to survive.
    She thought of his chuckle over Ben, his slow kiss good-bye, and felt her lips curve in a silly smile.
    “My God,” Ava groaned, sinking into the chair on the other side of her desk, “you’re smitten. It’s so sweet I think I just got a cavity.”
    Lara threw a soft toy a patient had gifted her at her best friend’s head. “I am newly mated,” she pointed out. “Entitled to be smitten, thank you very much.”
    Sighing, Ava pushed her hand through the silky dark of her shoulder-length hair. “True, you’re not a cynical old broad like me.”
    “
Please.
I saw you coming out of your office looking distinctly disheveled yesterday afternoon, accompanied by a certain Mr. Stone—who had a suspicious bruise on his neck and a shirt that was buttoned up crooked.”
    Ava grinned, unabashed. “Hey, we have a baby and a five-and-a-half-year-old with the world’s worst case of curiosity. We have to get creative.”
    Having fallen foul of Ben’s curious streak less than an hour ago, Lara grinned. “Lucky you mated a creative type.”
    Spencer “Spence” Stone was the pack’s official photographer—not simply of joy, but of pain and war and loss. He’d been out on the battlefield, had captured the only known terrestrial images of Sienna’s X-fire, taking photograph after photograph and transmitting them simultaneously to the den until the flames licked over his body. Even then, once he realized he wasn’t burning, he’d somehow managed to get his arm up over the fire, capture a single shot of the column of flame that had encased Hawke and Sienna.
    “Yes.” Ava sighed, expression dreamy. “The man is supremely blessed in the creativity department.”
    Lara didn’t think her best friend was talking about Spence’s prowess with a camera. “He ever take photographs when you, you know?”
    Ava waggled her eyebrows, eyes the same dark brown as her son’s filled with unrepentant wickedness. “Not telling. But wait till you have a newborn
and
a teenager to deal with—I figure sweet as he is, Toby’s gonna go crazy on you any day now. Then I will laugh.”
    The