After a few more soothing words, he slipped back into a deeper rest.
It was, Mercy thought, standing there looking at him, inexpressibly wonderful to have a mate she loved with every breath in her. With no one around, she could be as sappy as she wanted. But of course, there were people around. However, they were giving her and Riley privacy and that’s all that mattered.
Dragging herself to the bathroom, she did what needed to be done, then showered. From the putrid color of her bruises, she figured she’d been out for days. Her body was clean, which meant either one of the healers or Riley had taken care of it. She didn’t feel any embarrassment at the thought—he was hers. Of course he’d care for her. As she’d do for him. In a heartbeat.
Feeling refreshed, she went back out to the bedroom encased in a fluffy white robe. Her bandages had some kind of plas coating so they’d survived unscathed. After grabbing a hairbrush, she sat down beside Riley and began to smooth the tangles. He instantly turned to wrap his arms around her waist, his face at her hip.
She smiled when one hand dropped down to nudge aside the robe until he found skin. Strong fingers closed over her thigh. He was still asleep. But even there, he was pushy. Exactly as she liked him.
Putting the hairbrush on the bedside table, she stroked his hair and shoulder for a long time. Perhaps an hour. It didn’t matter. She was simply happy to be here, with him. Made lazy by the petting, she slipped out of the robe and into bed beside him. Half an hour after that, his hand moved on her thigh, his thumb making lazy arcs. Yawning into his chest though she wasn’t sleepy, she pushed him down when he began to roll over on top of her.
“Watch your leg,” she ordered, the leopard in her tone.
He tugged at her curls in revenge. And not the ones on her head.
“Riley Aedan Kincaid,” she said. “I know you’re awake.”
He cupped her, bold and possessive.
She shuddered. “On your back, wolf.”
He obeyed, removing his hand from between her legs. She’d have been disappointed if she hadn’t had something so much better to look forward to. Sitting up in a careful motion, she looked down at his naked body, checking to make sure he hadn’t been harmed anywhere else. Only when she was satisfied did she give in to the need to be one with her mate, to anchor the bond with touch. “Yum, yum, all mine.”
“You don’t have the energy to do this. Do you know how many days you were out?”
“I need this,” Mercy said, and it was the truth. “I need you.”
Dark eyes didn’t smile. His hands brushed over her bandages, and the darkness intensified. She couldn’t allow that. If Riley put up his walls again, it would break her heart. “Grumpy.” She nipped at his jaw. “If you brood, I won’t go down on you.”
He blinked. Then a tiny smile edged those full male lips.
“That’s better.” She pressed a kiss to each side of his lips, her heart so full, she didn’t know how she bore it. “I know I was hurt, but so were you. It’s life. It’s who we are.”
“You almost died.”
“But you brought me back.” She cupped his face in her hands. “I always knew you were there. Death didn’t have a chance against the Wall.”
A long silence.
“I reserve the right to go a little crazy,” he said at last.
She spread herself over him, skin to skin across their top halves. “Ditto.” Another kiss, his hands sliding across her, gentle over her bandages and bruises. She accepted his tenderness, his care, giving him back the same. “This feels so right,” she whispered against his lips.
Wolf-amber eyes looked back at her. “Good.”
“Arrogant.” But she was smiling, because her Riley was back.
They emerged an hour later to find the cabin deserted. Mercy grinned. “We scared them off.”
Riley’s smile was pure wolf as he balanced himself on crutches. “Made them jealous, too.”
Chuckling, she walked out to the porch . . . and felt her heart sigh in utter delight. “This is stunning.” They weren’t in the high Sierra, but neither were they down in DarkRiver territory. The firs were green, the air crisp but not cold, and the house—“Wow. Swiss chalet fused with mountain cabin.” She’d glimpsed a stone fireplace inside, and now saw the outside was made out of logs that blended the home seamlessly into the forest. “Whose place is this?”
“Ours.”
She stared at him. “What? Since when do you own this?”
“Five years ago.” He shrugged. “I had it built for my mate.”
“The cute little housewife?”
“I’m an idiot,” he said, “but obviously, I’m an idiot who even then knew he was an idiot.”
She folded her arms, staring daggers at him.
“Mercy, look around you. It’s rugged as hell. Can you see some submissive little creature surviving out here?”
Blinking, she did take a good look around. “She’d pee her pants at the first strange noise.” Arms lowered, she walked over and poked him in the chest. “Have you had other women here?”
“No one’s been here. I’ve never even spent a night inside.” Dropping one of the crutches, he reached up to cup her cheek. “I built it for two, not one.”
Well, she had to kiss him for that, didn’t she?
“Kitty cat,” he said, face solemn. “I’m sorry.”
She frowned. “For what? You had nothing to do with the explosion.”
“No . . . about your sentinel bond.”
Her heart clenched and then released as she realized . . . “I don’t feel any different.”
“You should.” Riley looked half worried, half relieved. “I definitely felt it when I got bonded, and there’s a connection to Hawke, to the other lieutenants. It’s hard to explain.”
“I know what you mean—it’s like being near a fire and feeling the warmth.” She shook her head. “And I tell you, I can still feel that warmth.”
“Well . . .” He ran his hand over her hair. “That’s good. But if you want to be physically closer to your pack, we can move.”
Ah, damn but the man had a way of saying the most tender things in that deep, solid voice of his. “I’m good.” And it was the truth. Being with her mate was . . . joy. Such joy that it filled every cell, made her blood golden with the beauty of it.
His head lowered even as she rose on tiptoe.
“Ahem.” A pointed cough. “Didn’t you two already get that out of your system?”
“Go away, Hawke,” Riley said without looking.
The wolf alpha came up the stairs and tugged on Mercy’s hair. “Red. Pretty.”
Mercy smiled . . . and flashed up her claws. But Hawke was already on the other side of the porch, a smirk on his face.
“Now, now,” he said, “I’m your alpha—”
“Bullshit.” Mercy sheathed her claws and turned so her back was cradled against Riley’s chest as he leaned on the railing. “I’m a DarkRiver sentinel.”
The wolf alpha’s eyes gleamed. “You sure about that?”
Catching a couple of familiar scents on the breeze, she waited. Lucas and Sascha stepped out of the forest a few minutes later. Mercy took one look at them and bit back a grin, but Hawke didn’t bother to resist the urge to make a comment.
“You have a leaf stuck in your hair, cat.”
Nonchalant, Lucas reached up to pull it off. “Jealous, wolf?”
“Boys,” Sascha said. “We’re here to discuss something important.” Walking up the steps, she hugged Mercy. “I’m so glad you two are alright.” There was a change in her eyes—an impossible new depth of soul, of empathy. And her scent . . .
Mercy’s leopard all but pounced on Sascha in excitement. “Holy crap! Congratulations!”
Sascha smiled, and glanced at Lucas. “I don’t think I can quantify our excitement.” Then she turned back. “But that’s not why I’m here. It’s about the Web of Stars and the equivalent thing with the wolves.”
“You should sit,�
�� Lucas said, and he wasn’t talking to Mercy.
Sascha stared at him. “I didn’t realize pregnancy of four weeks’ duration made me incapable of standing upright.”
“It makes me incapable of reason,” Lucas said, charm in every inch of him. “Humor me.”
Rolling her eyes, Sascha turned back to Mercy. “We should go in and grab seats—Tamsyn was here when you woke this morning and she said you’re going to be fine, but you need more bed rest. Lara gave the same orders to you.” She pointed an admonishing finger at Riley.
“Sascha darling, I don’t know what you and the cat get up to in bed, but those two aren’t resting.” Hawke padded over, and Mercy noticed that though he was wearing jeans and a white tee, he was barefoot. Crazy wolf.
Lucas cut Hawke off, opening the door to usher his mate inside. Mercy went in with Sascha and Riley followed. They heard a thump an instant later, and then some swearing, but when the two alphas walked in, there wasn’t a bruise on either of them. Sascha gave them both a narrow-eyed glance, got choirboy smiles in response.
“I’m assuming,” Mercy said, trying to control her laughter, “that something weird’s happened with the Web?”
Sascha nodded. “When you and Riley first mated, it was as if the Web and the SnowDancer network didn’t know what to do. In most cases, I think one of you would’ve been pulled out of your network—a connection across networks is theoretically impossible.”
Riley’s fingers played over her hip. Worried. Possessive. She leaned into him. “So what happened?”
“The impossible.” Sascha’s eyes sparkled. “The mating bond snapped into place between you two, without removing either of you from your respective webs.”
Riley stirred. “Are you saying you can see both the SnowDancer and DarkRiver networks now?”
“Not exactly.” Sascha blew on the surface of the glass coffee table to steam it up, then used her finger to draw the connections as she explained. “Lucas and Hawke have a blood bond because of the alliance, so the packs are already bonded on some level.”
Hawke shifted and Mercy’s cat picked up an edge in his movements. Not directed at anyone in the room but there. “Why didn’t our networks merge?” he asked.
Sascha looked from wolf alpha to leopard alpha. One was by the fireplace. One behind his mate. Opposite sides of the room. “Because neither of you will submit to the other.”
“Hell, no!” From two different throats.
“See.” Sascha threw up her hands. “I think a changeling network has to have an alpha at the core—and you can’t have two alphas. But the alpha-to-alpha blood bond has obviously had some psychic effect. I can’t see the wolf web,” she explained, “but I can sense that it’s now side by side with DarkRiver’s web on the psychic plane. The mating bond goes from Mercy and disappears, and since you two are mated . . .”
“It means it reappears on the other side.” Mercy thought about it. “If the blood bond hadn’t been there between DarkRiver and SnowDancer?”
“Honestly,” Sascha said, “I don’t know. Could be we’d have ended up with the same result. You’re both so dedicated to your packs—with changelings, such things seem to matter a great deal when it comes to the psychic plane.”
Riley straightened his unbroken leg. “You want us to choose.” A glance at Hawke, then back at Lucas.
“It’s necessary,” Hawke said, pale eyes intent.
Lucas nodded. “Your animals won’t like not having a concrete answer. Plus, we need it for the stability of the pack structure.”
Mercy turned to Riley and raised an eyebrow. “Okay?”
Nodding, he looked to Hawke. “I’ll stay SnowDancer, she’ll stay DarkRiver.”
“There won’t be a loyalty issue,” Mercy said. “My loyalty is to my mate first, then my pack.” It was how it had always been. Pack was built on the ties of family. And family began with mating. “Don’t ask us to keep secrets from each other.”
Lucas made a mock obeisance at her pointed reference. “As if we’d even try,” he said, rising to his full height. “Mates come first.”
Riley brushed his lips over Mercy’s hair in a caress so tender, her toes curled. “It would also,” he said, “make our domestic life easier if you two didn’t declare war against each other anytime soon.”
“Why would we do that when we now have the liaison team of our dreams?” Lucas was all but rubbing his hands. So, for that matter, was Hawke.
“I hate you both,” Mercy said without heat.
Riley put his arm around her. “Me, too.”
EPILOGUE
There was a celebration in the Pack Circle a week later, after Tamsyn and Lara had cleared both Mercy and Riley. It was a joint celebration—of the new life coming into the pack, and of Riley and Mercy’s mating.
Bas thumped Riley on the back. “Look after her or I’ll scalp you in your sleep.” A smile so feral that if Mercy hadn’t known better, she’d have thought her brother didn’t even know what a suit was, much less a financial market.
“Judd said one day it would come back to bite me,” Riley muttered, leaning on his crutches.
“He won’t hurt you,” Mercy teased. “If he does, I’ll use his kitten defurring tools on him.”
Bas showed her teeth. “I’m bigger than you. And I intend to cheat.”
Laughing, she pulled him down for a kiss on the cheek, then pushed him into the dancers. “Go make some woman’s night.” And there were a lot of them giving Bas the eye.
Grinning, he blew her a kiss and merged into the dancers. Grey, she saw with a surge of warmth in her heart, was flirting outrageously with Mia, both of them none the worse for their short kidnapping. Sage was operating a camera somewhere, recording this for Keely’s archival files.
“This is nice,” she said, leaning into Riley’s side as they stood with their backs against a large tree trunk. “Both our packs here.”
“And everyone behaving.” He nodded at the two groups of juveniles, one on either side of the Pack Circle. That the event was being held here was another step into trust. Changelings guarded their Pack Circles zealously. During Dorian’s mating ceremony, certain wolves had been invited down, but it had been a limited number.
But with Riley and Mercy’s mating, Lucas had decided it was time to extend the hand of friendship. Hawke had snarled, but he’d taken it. There was going to be another joint party up in the SnowDancer circle a month from now. However, the SnowDancer alpha had only made a fleeting appearance at this party—Mercy had a good inkling why.
“Hey, as long as they don’t claw into each other,” she said, putting the issue from her mind, “I don’t care how much they glare.”
“Poor Sascha,” Riley said, a laugh in his voice. “She can’t find a minute to herself.”
Mercy glanced over to see Sascha being offered food, drink, a blanket, suggestions for baby names, and God knows what else. Changelings adored children, but their fertility rate wasn’t as high as that of humans or Psy. As a result, any birth was cherished. And any pregnant woman was cosseted, petted, and generally driven out of her mind by the others in the pack—male and female.
As Mercy stood there, amused by the knowledge that Lucas would most certainly be getting a strip torn off his hide later tonight, she glimpsed Kit slipping off into the forest. That wasn’t unusual. He was a twenty-year-old male, after all—a gorgeous one. What was unusual was the girl holding his hand. Sienna Lauren.
Oh, shit.
Mercy was about to go after the two—if only to stop an interpack incident, when Riley said, “Look at her.”
She followed his gaze to find Brenna laughing up at Judd, her golden presence a stark contrast to her mate’s quiet intensity—but no matter what he looked like, there was no doubting the bond between the two. “They’re good together.”
Riley hugged her to his side. “Yeah, they are.” And for the first time, there were no shadows in his eyes when he looked at his sister. It was, Mercy thought, an excellent start.
“God,” he continued, “I can’t believe I used to play horsie for her when she was a little bit.” He shook his head. “What games did you play with your brothers?”
“I considered Bas my own personal doll. I used to dress him up in sentinel gear and take him on raids.”
Riley laughed and it was such a rich, open sound that her leopard was enchanted. “Dance?” she asked.
He looked down at his cast. “If you don’t mind staying in one place.”
“If that’s pasted up next to you, sounds about perfect to me.”
Riley proved adept at balance. And fully capable and willing to hold on to his mate when the going got shaky.
Later that same night, tired but unable to sleep, Sascha went to the safe and took out the Eldridge book.
“Sascha?” Lucas called out. “Come pet me.”
“Only if you pet me, too.”
The response was quick-fast. “Deal.”
Smiling through her trepidation, she walked into the bedroom and lay back against her mate’s seated form. “Before we do that, I think it’s time we read this.” Because this wasn’t about her anymore. It was about her baby, too, a child who might be born with his or her mother’s gifts.
Lucas ran a hand through her hair and nodded. “Let’s do it.”
Taking a deep breath, she flipped to the first page of text.
Introduction
The E-Psy, or empaths, as they are called in the vernacular, are something of a peculiarity. The powerful among them can heal the most devastating of emotional wounds. Folklore says they can cure insanity. That has never been proven. What has been proven is that they can certainly help people through difficult emotional times, absorbing negative emotion in a way that defies even psychic explanation.
During the course of my research for this thesis, I was privileged to interview one hundred E-Psy in the greater New York region, of which three were cardinals, twenty were high-range (Gradients 6.5-9.9), thirty-seven were midrange (Gradients 4.0-6.4), and forty were low-range (Gradients 0.1-3.9).
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