Her logic was sound.
Yet, night after night, she dreamed of Alpha Nikolaev—and in those dreams, she sensed his hair-roughened skin sliding against hers, drew his earthy scent into her lungs, woke feeling as if she’d been entwined with a big, warm male body. Her sleep was deep and calm. It was only when she woke that confusion caught her in its grip.
“It’s apt to be an echo of emotion,” her grandmother had told her when Silver mentioned her dreams two days earlier. “The brain often fights losing pieces of itself.”
It made perfect sense. Ena’s next statement, however, hadn’t been as rational. “Are you certain you don’t wish to attempt to reactivate your emotional center?”
“Of course I’m certain. I’m far more efficient this way.”
“Efficiency isn’t everything, Silver. I learned that when Arwen was born.”
Silver was still attempting to process her grandmother’s statement as she dressed to return to work. She’d overseen her team remotely to this point, but had decided it was time to go into the office. It was too early according to Dr. Bashir, who continued to oversee her healing, but Silver felt capable—though she would maintain a close eye on her stress levels to ensure she didn’t sabotage her return to health.
It was also why she was still home at nine forty-five.
A slightly less intensive schedule wouldn’t be problematic, since it had become clear to her that she could achieve even more now than she had prior to the operation. She hadn’t realized how much energy caging her Tp-A abilities sucked up until the act was no longer necessary.
Ready, she walked into the kitchen area of her apartment to mix up a nutrient drink. The kitchen was large, full of sunlight, the build optimized for the changelings who were the main tenants of this complex. The latter was how Valentin must’ve got in to slip a card under her apartment door two days earlier.
That card sat on her small dining table.
The picture on the front was from a children’s story: a laughing blonde girl riding on the back of a huge bear. She knew the memory it represented, and that memory haunted her in her dreams. But it was the words inside that she found the most incomprehensible.
Silver Fucking Mercant. I told you nothing would keep you down. Happy twenty-ninth birthday.—V
It wasn’t that she didn’t understand the words; it was the impact those words had on her. She should’ve thrown the card in the trash as soon as she’d finished reading it, but instead, she kept it in a place where she’d look at it every single morning.
“Throw it away,” she ordered herself.
But when she left for the office fifteen minutes later, the card was still exactly where it had been since she received it.
Her reaction had to be part of the emotional “echo” effect. It’d wear off.
Once outside her third-floor apartment, she walked carefully along a path that rose up above the lush grass of the huge central green area. The path had no railings or other handholds and was challenging in heels. Which was why Silver had made it a point to master the task, until her changeling neighbors gave her a thumbs-up when they passed her.
“Yo, Miss Silver!” The call came from a teenager whose family was living temporarily in the city while his mother undertook a lucrative short-term contract. The children would’ve usually been left with their pack, but as both teenagers had wanted to experience city life, they’d been permitted to enroll in a local school for the duration.
Silver knew all that because the changelings insisted on treating her as one of their own. Not because of who she was, but because of the relationship she’d had with Valentin Nikolaev. Uncertain what effect a denial of that relationship would have on Valentin’s status, she’d said nothing.
He was no longer her mate, but she owed him and StoneWater a certain loyalty. More, she’d given her word that she would protect the clan to her dying day.
Silver did not break her promises.
As a result, people continued to treat her as his mate. The reaction held true regardless of whether it was a bear or wolf or nonpredatory changeling with whom she was interacting.
“Christof. Why aren’t you readying yourself for school?” She had a vague memory of hearing that they were starting at ten thirty today because of a teachers’ meeting.
The wolf male jumped up onto the path from the grass below, his grace that of a predator’s, though his landing was shaky. “I got plenty of time,” he said with a covert glance at his timepiece after shoving his long black bangs out of his eyes. “I figured I’d get in some jumps.”
Silver had no need to ask what he was talking about—she’d seen him jumping down from a number of the high pathways. She’d also seen him fall badly, and had rendered first aid. “You do realize you’re a wolf not a cat?”
The teenage boy made a face, his eyes deep blue against skin of wintery white. “Yeah, yeah, that’s what Dad said when I fractured my ankle that time, but I hate those smarmy cats at school, always jumping off shit and trying to scare us.”
“I didn’t realize there were any big cats in this region.” The question came from the part of her that had once been mate to an alpha bear.
“They’re not big,” he said derisively. “Just wildcats—transferred because the dad’s some fancy-deal professor. They got permission to be here. But they’re so smug.” Thrusting his hands into his pockets, he slumped his shoulders forward and curled his lip. “They called me a ‘feral wolf.’ Can you believe that?”
“I see. Did you respond?”
“Of course I did.” A growl that was nothing like Valentin Nikolaev’s deep rumble, the sudden amber of Christof’s eyes a much darker shade. “I couldn’t let that insult stand. I put kitty litter in their lockers.” His laughter was bright, but it didn’t fill the air, didn’t steal her breath. “You should’ve seen their faces.”
Disturbed by the direction of her thoughts, Silver took a firm mental step off that unproductive path. “Your action may escalate the conflict.”
“No. I got detention, but so did they because they threw the kitty litter at me.” A distinctly self-satisfied look. “Second strike means an automatic expulsion, and I’m not done with the city. Neither are the kitties, so we’ve agreed on a truce.” Having reached the end of the path, the teen lifted a hand. “Mom’s calling. I better boost.”
She turned to ensure he landed safely after his jump, but at the same time, she listened. She picked up no hint of his mother’s call—clearly, whatever the teething problems with her operation, her Tp-A abilities were well under control.
. . . assassination attempt.
The fragment of breaking news came through her preset telepathic filters just as she reached the curb outside the complex. Before she could follow up on the news a familiar rugged all-wheel drive stopped in front of her.
The driver, a heavily muscled man with impressively broad shoulders, reached across to push open the passenger side door. “Hop in. I’ll give you a ride.”
Silver entered the vehicle without hesitation—one thing she’d learned from the memories of her time with Alpha Nikolaev was that he’d never harm her. Since getting to the office earlier would allow her to complete more work, it was a good decision to accept the ride rather than taking the skytrain. “Thank you.”
He swung smoothly into the traffic. The fresh scent of his aftershave drifted across to her, layered over the natural scent of his skin.