Declaration of Courtship: A Psy/Changeling Novella

by Nalini Singh

  Sighing, Grace went to walk toward him, found herself restrained. She looked up, asked another gift from Cooper, this man whose wolf was so close to his skin. “Let me go for a second. I need to say good-bye properly.”

  He released her, but she felt his eyes watching her every step of the way as she went into Revel’s arms, squeezing him tight, then doing the same to Pia. Before she could speak, explain to them that her relationship with Cooper made her so, so happy, Revel jerked back, his eyes flicking to Cooper over her shoulder.

  “Shit,” he muttered, but not low enough that she missed the word. “Come on, Pia. We need to catch that shuttle.”

  Pia scowled. “What—”

  But Revel was already dragging her away, waving good-bye to Grace as he went and calling out to say, “I apologize, Cooper. I didn’t get things. Thanks for not shredding us.”

  When Pia squawked something, Revel hissed at her under his breath. Her sister stopped struggling, twisting her head around to stare at Grace and Cooper, her mouth falling open before an enormous grin crossed her face. “Bye, Grace! I’ll tell Mom and Dad you’re fine!”

  Grace stared after them as they disappeared into the trees, a dark suspicion forming in her gut. There was pretty much only one thing that would’ve eliminated her siblings’ protective worry with such absolute effectiveness. “Cooper, are we in the mating dance?” The male always knew when the dance began, and more than a few of them were less than inclined to tell the female half of the pair until said female was too committed to back away.

  “If we are?” A challenge.

  “Don’t you think you should’ve told me?”

  “No.” The infuriating male kissed her. Unlike his coaxing kisses before, this one was a demand, a raw melding of mouths that swept away her foundations and left her floundering.

  Then he grinned. “You’re not afraid of the big, bad wolf anymore, Grace.” Picking her up, he backed her into a tree, her legs going around his waist. “I want you.” Clever fingers on the buttons of her shirt.

  “Stop.”

  Hearing the panic, Cooper froze, realizing too late that he’d made a huge tactical error. Though Grace hadn’t been frightened by his anger, that didn’t mean she was ready to give him the kind of intimate trust he needed from her if they were to share a bed. During the fight, she’d been in that protective mode where a submissive could become oddly fierce, her body high on adrenaline.

  But the fact was, she’d only offered him her throat last night. It was way too soon to expect more, any demand apt to push her into an instinctive submission that’d scar them both. “I’m sorry.” He pressed his hands palms down on either side of her body. “Baby, I’m so—”

  Fingers on his lips. “I’m not afraid of your anger,” she whispered, eyes flicking up to meet his for a single, brilliant instant. “In fact”—a slow smile—“I’m proud I stood up to a lieutenant and forced him to listen.”

  He laughed at the adorable hint of smugness, tension snapping. “You also clawed him and he’s keeping score.”

  A nuzzling kiss that told him she was utterly unrepentant, even as her hands stroked over the already healing cuts. “But deep inside,” she continued, “the wolf already knew you’re built to protect rather than hurt those like me. The other…the intimate skin privileges…that’s new, unexpected, and the vulnerability it asks for…it frightens my wolf until it forgets what we’ve already shared and retreats into the rules of the hierarchy.”

  Fingers on his nape, petting gently before worried eyes met his for another fleeting moment. “You won’t give up, will you?”

  “Hell, no. You’re mine and I’m keeping you.” Conscious all at once that she’d softened around him, and made no protest to the fact he had her pinned against the tree, his hips nestled intimately against her, he brushed his lips over hers. She opened on a sigh, her hands sliding to grip his shoulders.

  Much as he wanted to use his own hands, he kept them on the tree trunk, and in spite of the fact she wore his mark on her throat, he didn’t attempt to move his mouth down to that sensitive area. Not today, when he’d inadvertently frightened her wolf in his impatience. Today, he’d just kiss her…and plan the next step in their dance of courtship.

  • • •

  COMING home after a midnight-to-six shift on the perimeter, Cooper crashed for a few hours. It felt as if the nightmare gripped him in its jaws the instant he closed his eyes and shook, until he woke screaming. Angry and frustrated, he punched the wall until his knuckles bled. It took teeth-gritting control to shake off the dark effects, and he kept his distance from Grace, not wanting her to see the emotional damage with those too-perceptive eyes of hers.

  Instead, he sent her miniature peanut-butter tarts to have with her lunch, got a note in return saying he would make her fat…as well as a pink cupcake decorated with their initials in a frosting heart. Laughing when he hadn’t thought he’d smile today, he bit into the cupcake and sent back a note saying he liked something to hold on to in bed.

  When he finally dared go to her that afternoon, her eyes danced at him and he had to steal a kiss, squeezing her hips the entire time. Her touch warmed the ice-cold places deep inside him that no amount of hot water could reach, her fingers soft against his cheek. “You didn’t sleep well.” She brushed at the smudges under his eyes, a frown marring her brow.

  “Yeah, I’ll sack out early tonight…unless you want to crawl into bed with me? Then I’m sure I could be motivated to stay awake.”

  The frown didn’t disappear. “You’re doing it again.”

  “What?”

  “Using sex to muddy up the waters.” Cupping his face, she rose on tiptoe and kissed him until he was breathless. “Talk to me.”

  Chapter 11

  HE ALMOST BROKE, but he couldn’t, wouldn’t, taint her with his pain, didn’t want her to feel caged by his need. “Why don’t you talk to me? I hear you’re going out with your engineering crew.”

  “Yes, a dinner to celebrate our early completion of the section 4B rehaul.” She petted his shoulders in that affectionate way she had of touching him. “Want to come?”

  Yes. “No, you have fun. Shamus and I are planning to go shoot some pool.” He would not monitor her life just because it drove him insane to not be certain if she was safe. “I’ll come by and say good night if we get in at a reasonable hour.”

  Dark eyes watched him. “I haven’t forgotten.”

  He knew she hadn’t. He also knew this was his cross to bear. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

  The night was excruciating. Returning from the bar, he and Shamus got stuck in a traffic jam caused by some kind of protest and didn’t get back into the den till after eleven. Aware it was too late to wake Grace up, he nevertheless went past her quarters, hoping against hope to see light under the door. But she was asleep…or not in. And there was no one he could ask to confirm without betraying too much, so instead he waited for dawn and turned up to take her out to breakfast.

  Where he held her for so long, she knew something was very wrong. He dodged her questions again, though he knew it couldn’t go on this way forever. But today, he wanted only to bury himself in the wild joy of courting her. Because she was the bright light in the dark—his wolf swaggered around the den, so delighted with the woman who was his own that he didn’t care who razzed him about being smitten.

  “Word is she’s got you wrapped around her finger,” his alpha said to him two days later, an amused look in eyes so pale, they were those of a husky given human form. “They’re taking bets on what you’ll do next to court her. I heard about the violinist.”

  “This pack has far too much time on its hands,” Cooper muttered, but even sleep deprived as he was, he was in too good a mood to be mad. Because Grace was letting him chase her—and his wolf did love a challenge.

  He grinned, thinking of the surprise he’d left her.

  • • •

  GRACE had to physically fight a hot red blush when she walked in
to her office to see the black box tied with a pink ribbon sitting on her desk. That wasn’t what had heat blazing over her skin. It was the discreet symbol on the bottom left corner of the side facing the door—of a high-end lingerie shop.

  Vivienne whistled from beside her. “Oh, now the man is playing hardball.”

  Grace had heard about the male wolves’ exhibitionist tendencies during the mating dance, but Cooper knew very well she was shy about certain things. “I’m going to kill him,” she muttered, trying to avoid the chief’s and Paul’s eyes as they walked past her office for the third time, necks craning.

  “Don’t murder the man until you see what’s inside.”

  “I am not opening this here.”

  “Come on, Grace.” Vivienne nudged the door shut in the men’s faces. “There, see? We’re all private.”

  Someone knocked.

  When Vivienne scowled and opened the door a peek, Emma poked her head inside, the glossy dark of her bob swinging across her cheek. “I had time before a class, and I heard…” Her eyes lighting up when she saw the box, she came in, shut the door, then hit the lock for good measure. “God, he really did do it. Even my guy wasn’t this shameless.”

  Grace’s stomach did a little flip. My guy. That sounded nice. She’d like to call Cooper her guy. After she killed him. “He could’ve had this delivered to my room.”

  “Please, Grace.” Vivienne snorted. “The lingerie might be for you, but the message is for everyone else. Hands off sexy Grace. She’s all miiiiiiiiine. Grr and snarl and grr some more.”

  Grace glared at her as Emma dissolved into giggles…but when Vivienne started beating her chest, her teeth bared, it was all over. It was some minutes later that she wiped the tears from her eyes and, giving in to their wheedling, tugged on the ribbon. “Breathe a word of what’s inside and I’ll make sure the lighting in your room gets stuck on bright noonday sun all week.”

  “Done.”

  Emma hesitated. “Can I tell Shamus? Please.” She pressed her hands together. “It might, you know, give him ideas.”

  “Not a word.”

  “Okay, okay.” Miming zipping her lips, the other woman said, “Open it before I explode.”

  They crowded around as she lifted the lid to reveal fine white tissue paper. Nestled within was a garment that made all three of them exhale in sheer pleasure. Rather than anything scandalous, Cooper had bought her a thigh-length nightgown in midnight blue, the straps ribbon-thin, the material cut so it would hug her body in all the right places, the fabric itself pure sin.

  “Oh, this makes me want to purr.” Emma rubbed the midnight blue between her fingertips. “I’m dragging Shamus to this store until he gets the hint.”

  Vivienne sighed again. “The man gets serious brownie points for taste.”

  Grace stroked her hand over the garment, in love. She’d never have bought it for herself, would’ve considered it too decadent, too expensive. “Maybe I won’t kill him,” she admitted in a dreamy voice, imagining Cooper’s big, callused hands sliding the straps from her shoulders, his stubbled jaw rough against her skin, his lips possessive.

  Vivienne nudged her shoulder, a knowing gleam in her eye. “Aren’t you going to open the other packages?” She pointed inside the box.

  “No.” Cooper only had a limited store of good behavior, and she was dead certain he’d used it all up on the nightgown.

  Her friends made disappointed sounds, begging pitifully, but Grace held firm, ushering them out the door, and locking it behind the two before returning to the box and surrendering to her own wild curiosity. She’d been right to worry.

  “I would,” she muttered to him later that night, as she straddled him in the backseat of the SUV he’d signed out of the garage, “have to be in a very, very, very good mood to put on that teddy. It might as well be made of tissue.” Instead of impossibly delicate red lace that would cup her breasts and glide over her abdomen with no intention of hiding anything.

  Cooper, sprawled half naked and magnificent against the seat, grinned. “I liked the hooks.”

  “That’s because they’re on the back.” Making it clear it wasn’t a garment a woman was meant to either put on or take off by herself. “And what do you call that last piece?”

  “Panties.” Knuckles running down the naked line of her breastbone to her abdomen, exposed due to the fact the sexy male beneath her had talked her into unbuttoning her shirt for him. “Definitely panties.”

  Her thighs clenched. “What exactly is that teeny, tiny scrap of red meant to cover?”

  “Hopefully not much.” He tugged at the waistband of the floaty knee-length skirt she’d dressed in tonight in a conscious decision that made her feel naughty in the most adult way. “Tell me you’re wearing them.”

  Arousal was liquid honey in her veins, thick and rich and oh-so-luscious “No,” she said, playing with him. “I think I should punish you for how you’ve been tormenting me.”

  Teeth on her lower lip. “God, I love it when you’re bad, Grace.” His fingers went to the bottom edge of her skirt, his hand spreading on her thigh in a caress of rough heat. “Can I?”

  Heartbeat jerky in her throat, she shook her head…and reached down to slowly, so slowly, bunch the skirt ever higher up her thighs. Cooper’s breath was harsh, loud in the confines of the SUV, his eyes a wild yellow that traced every inch she bared. It was intoxicating, his raw desire made her feel like a sexual siren when she’d always thought her sensuality a gentle flame.

  There was nothing gentle about her need or her possessiveness where Cooper was concerned. He could arouse her with a word, a look, and she hungered for him to complete his claim, her body in a constant state of readiness. It wouldn’t be long, she thought, before her wolf took that final step into absolute, unremitting trust.

  “Higher.” A growled demand when she stopped near the top of her thighs. “I want to see.”

  Skin damp with perspiration, she kept the skirt where it was. “What’s my incentive?”

  Wild yellow blazing at her in the dark, the windows fogged up to enclose them in steamy intimacy. “I’ll lick you until you come. Now, keep moving.”

  Whimpering, she obeyed the order, saw him jerk his head up and check that the whimper was one of passion. Satisfied, he returned his gaze to the miniscule red triangle that shielded her from his view, his hand clenching on her thigh. “Take them off.”

  Her legs quivered. Dropping her skirt, she leaned backward until she hit the back of the front seat, her chest rising and falling as she fought to suck in enough air to clear the haze in her mind.

  Muscular thighs rock hard beneath her, Cooper’s hands closed over her knees. “You’re going to make me wait?”

  She licked her lips, nodded. “You’re being punished, remember?”

  “Then let me plead my case.” Holding her gaze, he cupped her.

  She moaned at the proprietary hold, feeling herself grow more damp with every passing second.

  A brush of his thumb across the taut nub at the apex of her thighs, the pleasure piercing her to the core. She arched into his touch, even as an acrid sensation she didn’t want to feel began to eat away at the sumptuous wave of passion, the wildness in her sensing the acute vulnerability that awaited if the wave crashed. Gritting her teeth, she tried to ride it out, but Cooper knew.

  Removing his hand, he tucked her against his body, one hand cupping the back of her head, the other on her lower back. She wrapped her arms around his neck and breathed in the rich earth and dark amber of his scent, her wolf rubbing up gently against his own in silent apology.

  His response was a low rumble of a growl. “It’s my own damn fault for buying you those panties.”

  Laying her head against his shoulder, she petted his beautiful chest. “Yes,” she agreed, “it is.”

  That got her a growl…and, “When are you going to wear the teddy?”

  • • •

  ABLE to feel herself hovering on the brink of that final, inef
fable trust, Grace got up the next morning wishing the hours away so she could play with her dominant lover when night fell, but the day ended up being unexpectedly, dangerously long.

  “We have a serious problem at the hydro station,” her boss, Barney, said around five that afternoon. “A computronic issue that only became apparent a couple of hours ago.”

  The timing, Grace thought, couldn’t be worse. The region was heading into a severe new storm, forecast to hit tonight. It was meant to be so bad that a team had been dispatched to bring the wild wolves that shared their territory into the den for the night. “Are Elizabeth and Diego up there?” she asked, referring to the two senior station techs.

  “Yeah, but they need someone from your team. The air system at the control station is acting glitchy, CO2 alarms on the fritz, and they have to batten down the hatches, spend the night babying the computronics.”

  Dangerous, Grace thought, if the air filters failed and carbon dioxide built up in a contained area. Unlike the den, the below-ground control station had no natural airflow conduits to negate the risk, and the storm would make heading outside just as bad a choice. “Den’s got generator backup,” she said. “It’d be safer to recall them.”

  “I suggested that, but Elizabeth says if they leave the problem, it could end up crippling the station, take weeks to repair. That happens, den will be reliant on the backup battery units in the critical systems—generators are only meant to run for a few days at most.” He rubbed his forehead. “We won’t go dark, but things will function at minimal levels at best. If the solar panels hadn’t been damaged.…”

  Grace knew even with the pack’s scientific manufacturing arm putting a rush on the specially calibrated panels, it would take at least another week to get everything in place. “Paul’s our air expert,” she said, hating the idea of sending any of her people out in this weather.

  “I tried him, but he’s not in his quarters and he didn’t file a schedule. Figured you might know where he’s working.”

  That was when Grace recalled why she hadn’t seen Paul today. “Damn, I forgot. I gave him a couple of days off so he could go to his father’s birthday party in L.A. He left this morning.”