Hawke Snow személy
heart and soul of the pack
became alpha at 15
the alpha of the wild wolves in his range, as well
believes the girl destined to be his mate, Rissa, died years before
father Tristan taken and experimented on by the Psy, broken
mother Aren a submissive wolf who could not live without her mate
mother a submissive
no blood relations, all of his family died when he was young
believes he will remain mateless
ruthless, his only loyalty is to his pack
a complete predator to the core
iron will and self control
filled with tightly controlled pure, unadulterated rage
deep hatred of the Psy Council
the one who most closely resembles his beast in human form
his wolf is always close to the surface
senses are more acute than even other changelings
tall and heavily muscled, over 200 pounds
silver-gold hair, eyes the same icy blue in wolf or human form, warm honey skin
shifts into a huge white wolf, with icy blue eyes
mate of Sienna Lauren
“You know the two cats who came up here?” he said out loud, mentally vowing to melt that icy control, and more, to make her see him. “The ones who thought they might have a shot with Mercy?”
“Eduardo and Joaquin?” Hawke said, his hair catching the light as he leaned back in his chair and folded his arms behind his head. “What about them?”
“They took Riley out drinking last night.”
The three of them digested that for a second . . . before grins appeared on all their faces, segueing slowly into chuckles, then outright laughter (…)
“Have you heard from Riley, Drew?”
Andrew slid into a seat beside Indigo, stretching his legs out in front. “Got a text saying they’re planning to visit Rio de Janeiro today. Oh, and that he’s already in love with Mercy’s grandmother. Since she hasn’t clawed his guts open yet, he thinks she might like him back.”
“How are you doing, little sister?” (…)
“That’s all I get after I sent you a whole box of premium chocolate-cherry cookies?” he said, feigning extreme disappointment. “Just‘good’?”
But when he grinned and took her into his arms, she not only allowed the affection, she slid her own arms around him. It had taken him months of patient care to get her to trust him with her body in that way. “Is that leopard boy . . . what’s his name”—Andrew pretended to think—“that’s right, Kit. Is Kit treating you right?” He murmured the question at a volume Hawke was certain to overhear, knowing full well he was throwing the cat among the pigeons.
“Drew.” Sienna pulled back, fisting a hand on his chest. Her eyes sparked fire at him, and for an instant he could almost see through the dark brown of her contact lenses and to the night-sky eyes beyond. White stars on a spread of black velvet, it was said that the eyes of a cardinal Psy reflected the stark, sprawling beauty of the PsyNet.
Leaning down, he kissed her other cheek and—dropping his voice low enough that it would skate under even his alpha’s acute hearing—said, “Give him hell, sweetheart. Then come tell me about it.”
Trembling, she stepped back. “Please don’t touch me.” Choked-out words.
Hawke curled his hand into a fist at Sienna’s near-silent command, his wolf snarling to get out, to teach this slender girl that he would not be rejected. “You have a cut there.”
Her fingers lifted to that cheek, a cheek that also bore a scattered spray of sun golden freckles she hadn’t had the last time they’d spoken. “Oh,” she said after a moment, “that must’ve been from when I was with Kit yesterday.”
His wolf pulled back its lips, baring the lethal sharpness of its canines. Kit was young, extremely dominant, and very close to Sienna in age. That didn’t mean he was right for her. “He hurt you?” It came out a cold question, his wolf gone predator-still.
Sienna’s eyes widened. “No. I wasn’t looking where I was going on the run back from a sparring session and I tripped.” An embarrassed look. “I’m never going to be as graceful as a changeling.”
Hawke said nothing, could say nothing, his mind filling with images of the young leopard male touching her, laughing with her as he helped her up from the earth.
“Make sure you speak to Indigo so she can adjust your duties.” Hawke’s wolf was scraping at the insides of his skin now, his vision starting to blur. “And stay out of my way while you’re here.” The order came out harsh as the edge of a rusted blade.
Sienna’s face went white even as fury tightened the corners of her mouth. “Don’t worry. I didn’t come back to see you.”
“I’m not the only one who’s got a problem.”
He growled at her. She let him feel her claws against his face. Ice blue eyes locked with her own. “You know what it is,” he finally said, his voice so deep it was difficult to understand. (…)
Yeah, Indigo knew what it was. “She’s far older now than she was when she first entered the den.”
Hawke said nothing. He didn’t need to—she could all but feel his thrumming tension.
“No one’s going to stop you if you decide to—”
(…) “Riley made it clear she was off-limits.”
“Then, she was.” She stroked her fingers through his hair because he needed the touch of Pack. “Now . . . she’s stronger. I’m not saying she’s ready for the full Hawke assault”—her wolf bared its teeth when he growled—“but she can take a little bit.” That said more about Indigo’s judgment of Sienna Lauren than anything else—because there were very few women on the planet who she thought might be able to handle Hawke.
The fact that the top contender was an eighteen-heading-for-nineteen-year-old Psy defector was one hell of a surprise, but that didn’t mean they should just ignore the subject and hope it went away. Especially not when the girl seemed to reach parts of Hawke no one else could even see.
(…) “We should get back,” he said after several long minutes, his voice human once more.
Indigo didn’t push. This was a decision Hawke would have to make on his own. Because once made, she knew that decision would be final and absolute. If he decided to pursue Sienna . . . Sucking in a breath, Indigo promised herself she’d warn the girl if and when the time came—because no woman should have to face that kind of a campaign unprepared.
THREE DAYS AFTER the situation with Maria and Sienna, Hawke found himself looking down at a small, big-eyed face. Going down on his haunches to meet that wildly curious gaze, he said, “Looking serious, Ben.”
The five-and-half-year-old, who happened to be one of Hawke’s favorite people in the den, nodded. “Didja really put Sinna in jail?”
Hawke bit the inside of his cheek. “Yep.”
Brown eyes the same dark shade as Ben’s mother’s, turned wolf-amber in shock. “How come?”
“She didn’t follow the rules.”
Ben thought about it for a second, lines wrinkling up that baby-smooth forehead. “Is it like time-out for grown-ups?”
“Oh.” A decisive nod. “I’ll tell Marlee.”
“Is Marlee sad?” The girl was Sienna’s cousin and part of his pack—Hawke wouldn’t allow her to be hurt.
Ben shook his head. “Her dad said that Sinna had been naughty and that’s why she got put in jail, but Marlee said you wouldn’t put Sinna in jail and that Sinna was probably just grumpy and didn’t want to talk to anyone.”
“How’re Indigo and the young pup?”
The “young pup,” Drew, was Hawke’s eyes and ears in the pack, as well as SnowDancer’s tracker. “I caught them in a storage closet not long ago. They weren’t exactly looking for supplies.” His wolf bared its teeth in amusement.
Matthias howled with laughter. “Don’t you fucking try to convince me you didn’t scent what was going on?”
“I was very discreet.” Hawke grinned. “I just opened the door a crack and asked them to keep it down.”
“And got a mop thrown at your head, I bet.”
“Actually, it was a giant roll of thread—mending supplies closet.” Shaking his head, he answered the question more seriously. “Their mating, added to Riley and Mercy’s, Cooper’s with Grace, and Judd’s with Brenna, is good, really good for the stability of the pack.” Having his lieutenants in such strong pairings soothed his wolf’s frustration at not being able to give SnowDancer the security of a mated alpha pair.