“I don’t want to hear it.”
“Too bad. Lieutenant privileges.” He put his hand on the door to the office. “I know why your balls are blue.”
Silence.
“Whatever the hell is happening between you two, make a note that several different men, me included, will kill you if you touch her. She’s not ready.”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” Hawke’s voice remained unconcerned, but his hand was squeezing his pen so tight, he’d probably shattered it.
“But none of us will kill you for spending time with her.” He pulled open the door. “Track her down, taunt her into a sparring session. It’ll get you skin-to-skin contact.”
Hawke’s eyes were pure wolf when they met Riley’s. “I don’t think so.”
Riley looked at his alpha and gave a slight nod. “Yeah, I see your point.” A little contact would only enflame the wolf. “You need to draw some blood?” It was an honest offer, wolf to wolf, frustrated male to frustrated male.
“Not yet.” Putting down his mangled pen, Hawke shoved both hands into his hair, leaving a streak of bright blue ink on the pale strands. “You’ll find me when I do.” He sounded disgusted.
Riley shrugged. “It’s my job.” Being the senior lieutenant was about more than responsibility to the pack. It was about responsibility for the alpha as well. With Hawke unmated—and likely to remain so—Riley had to make sure the other man never went too close to the edge. Hawke, in turn, kept a watchful eye on him, too.
Now the alpha raised his head. “You’re so fucking calm you fool everyone else, but don’t fool yourself, Riley. You’re in no better condition than I am.”
Leaving Hawke to his own demons, Riley got changed into workout gear, found an empty training room, and began to go through his usual sparring routine, but without a partner—he was in no mood to hold his punches. Hawke could’ve taken him, but his alpha already saw too much. He didn’t want to betray anything else.
“Riley?”
“Go away.” He’d heard Brenna enter, had decided to ignore her.
But Brenna had never been easily dissuaded. “Drew said you’re not sleeping well—that you were up most of last night.”
He went through a vicious series of moves and ended a foot from her, breath calm, eyes furious. “Drew has a big fucking mouth.”
“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.” She grinned, but there was worry in those magnificent eyes she’d turned from a scar to a badge of courage. “Riley, is this . . . I . . .”
Scowling, he closed the distance between them to cup her cheek. “It’s not about you.” Her hurt haunted him, but he wasn’t going to put that weight on her back. That was his cross to bear. “I’m not sleeping because I want sex.”
Her mouth dropped open. Then she went bright red. “Too. Much. Information!”
Satisfied at having distracted her from the past, he raised an eyebrow. “You did ask.”
“Argh.” She rubbed at her temples. “Am trying to erase image from mind.”
His temper lessened at her theatrics. “What, you think I’m a monk?”
“Might as well have been,” she said with a shrug. “You haven’t been with anyone for months.”
“And that’s not too much information?”
“That’s looking after my brother.” She poked him in the chest. “And if you’re—you know—why don’t you go and do something about it?”
He stroked a hand down her hair, reassuring himself for the millionth time that she was still alive, still breathing. God, he felt for Dorian. The other man’s sister hadn’t come back. That heartbreaking truth was why Riley had allowed Dorian to strike the killing blow when they’d hunted down the monster who’d stolen so much innocence. “You think it’s that easy?”
“You’ve got confidence leaking out your pores.”
“The bigger the ego,” he muttered, repeating something Mercy had said to him, “the louder they pop.”
Brenna laughed. “You never had an ego problem, Riley. You had a responsibility problem. You didn’t even go away to roam—you were always there for me and Drew.”
“You were more important. And Pack centers me.”