Storm Echo, page 30
He enfolded her into his arms. “For always.” For however long that always was for the two of them. Because they would fall together now, the mating bond complete in every way.
SOLEIL was still a touch shaky from the impact of knowing Ivan was now hers without conditions, without shields of any kind, but it was a happy kind of shaky—that was about to get even happier.
Salvador was bringing the cubs over to her. When she’d called Tamsyn to ask where Natal and Razi were so she could visit, she’d learned that they’d gone home with Salvador—and that they were awfully excited to see her new aerie after Tamsyn had mentioned it.
So Soleil invited Salvador to bring them over. After she and Sal cried on the phone at being reunited, she said, “Some kind packmate stocked up the pantry with supplies—I have countless people I need to find and thank—so I have everything I need to make cookies. They should be ready by the time you arrive.”
After she and Ivan’d had a quick shower together, full of tender touches and wonder at the bond that sang through them both, she’d retrieved her clothing and got to baking, while Ivan made a trip to the car to get their gear.
To protect the native vegetation, the pack had rules about where vehicles were permitted, so it was a twenty-minute round trip for him. Or it should’ve been—he’d apparently decided to run part of it, because he was back in under fifteen, hitting the verandah with the bags just as she popped the cookies in the solar-powered eco-oven set into the wall.
“You sure you’re not a cat?” she said with a laugh when he prowled back in, her shopping bag in one hand and his duffel in the other, with her daypack slung easily over one shoulder.
“Cat or Mercant, not much difference that I can see. Sneaky runs in the bloodline.” No smile on his face, but she could feel it in the mating bond and it was a little bubble of happiness inside her. Happiness she clung to, refusing to look at the grim cloud that hovered on the horizon.
Last time she’d asked, Ivan had said he’d hit full psychic strength early morning the next day. At which point, he’d walk back into the ChaosNet and be forced to use his ability, further eroding his control on it.
“Ivan?” she said when he emerged from the bedroom after dropping off the bags.
He looked up from his phone. “Sorry, message from Canto with an update on an ongoing security issue we’re looking into. It’s not urgent.” Slipping the phone away, he came to lean his shoulder on the wall at the end of the counter where she was preparing the second sheet of cookies. “What is it?”
“Your grandmother helped you create your shields against what you call the spider, right?”
“Yes, but they no longer work—or only to a limited capacity.”
Soleil used a fork to flatten the balls of cookie dough. “It’s been two decades, give or take. Why don’t you talk to her again? Could be she has some new ideas.”
When he stayed silent, she looked up. “I know you don’t want to do it because she’s never going to accept your cage plan—but that ship has sailed all the way to outer space. Your mate isn’t about to accept that, either.” She shook the fork at him. “No point being a chicken about your grandmother’s fury.”
A narrowing of his eyes before he walked over … and nipped sharply at her ear, exactly as she might do to a misbehaving cub. Squealing, she threatened to poke him with the fork. He managed to stay out of reach as he got behind her and wrapped her up in his arms, pinning her own gently to her sides.
“Take that back,” he murmured in her ear, the rumble of sound making her toes curl onto the wood of the floor.
“No.”
He tickled her.
“Hey!” That wasn’t fair! He wasn’t supposed to know how to tickle! But he’d somehow learned, and she couldn’t take it. Giggling so hard she dropped the fork on the counter, she said, “I surrender!”
“And?”
“And you’re no chicken.” Turning her head, she nuzzled his jaw, her cat so utterly delighted with him for playing with her that she’d let him get away with anything right now. “Where did you learn the tickling?”
“I caught a glimpse of the memory when you told me about how your mother used to tickle you.”
Of course he’d remembered that, because he remembered everything about her. Now, holding her from behind, he rubbed his face against the side of hers. “You’re right about one thing—the situation has changed. I’ll talk to Grandmother. You can meet her, too.”
A fleet of butterflies in her stomach. “I’m ready.” No, she wasn’t, but she’d fake it until she made it.
Five minutes later, Ivan told her he’d set the meeting for six thirty that evening, on the heels of when Salvador would be heading home with the cubs. Sal had told her in advance that they’d promised to have dinner with Yariela, so they wouldn’t be staying to eat.
“Yariela said she’d have invited you,” he’d said, a smile in his tone, “but then she heard that it’ll be your first night in your new aerie with your mate and told me to make sure the cubs and I didn’t hang around too long.” The affectionately teasing tone of a packmate.
Oh, how she’d missed these small interactions, all of them part of the larger tapestry of being a member of a pack. “Talking of hearing things,” she’d said in turn, “how was your date, hmm?”
Salvador’s blush had been apparent in his voice. “I’ll tell you all about it when I come over.”
That time arrived all too soon, and Soleil yelped at the realization that she still had no panties. Ripping open the relevant package, she picked the thinnest pair, then ran into the bathroom to handwash them. At some point, Ivan, who’d been on a call, came over to see what she was doing. “Why,” he said, “are you using a hair dryer to dry those?”
She ran the long flat stick over the lacy panties she was holding in one hand. “Because I don’t want to wear wet panties!”
“I thought changelings weren’t troubled by nudity.”
“I’m not worried about Sal and the cubs, but we’re heading to see your grandmother straight after and I am not meeting her without panties!”
Arms folded over the casual short-sleeved black shirt he’d changed into, he leaned against the doorjamb. “Grandmother is a woman of many talents, but she doesn’t have x-ray vision.”
“Doesn’t matter.” She willed the stupid thing to dry; it was a damn itsy bit of lace she’d bought in an Ivan-induced sensual fugue. “I’ll know.”
“I’ll just tell her you had a wardrobe malfunction.”
Her head all but swiveled on her neck. “What!” Then she felt it, the ripple along the mating bond that was Ivan Mercant teasing her.
She pointed the dryer at him. “I will get you. Later. After I dry these damn panties.”
Someone, somewhere had mercy on her and the lace was dry enough to wear comfortably by the time she had to scramble down the tree to meet the cubs. Ivan was already there, having carried down the cookies for her, as well as a closed bottle of chilled milk. He’d then done a second run to grab the glasses and a picnic blanket that he’d already spread out by the time she—and her panties—made it down.
His eyes went straight to the spot between her thighs.
Heat blazed on her cheekbones. “Behave.”
No smile, but his eyes warmed, and she felt it again, that ripple in the mating bond that told her Ivan Mercant would one day laugh. He had wickedness in him, her mate, just didn’t know how to show it on the outside yet.
All they needed was time.
Swallowing hard, she looked to the right. “I can hear them.” Small excited rustles as the cubs ran toward her, Salvador’s stride more measured and calm.
Then there they were, two tiny ocelots so excited to see her again that they pounced right into her arms. Laughing, she kissed and snuggled their small, warm bodies, meeting Salvador’s gaze over their heads. Her packmate had come in human form, a bag slung over his shoulder.
Dark-skinned and of medium height, his build stocky, he had the softest brown eyes in the universe—and they were wet at that instant. “Leilei, it really is you,” he whispered, dropping the bag to the side to hug her, the cubs happily squished in between them.
Her cat keened inside her, so happy to see him, scent him, that it was overwhelmed. She wanted to shift but didn’t want to drop the cubs to do so, and she was wearing a pretty new dress that Ivan had chosen when she’d asked his opinion while deciding between two options.
It was all wonderfully too much.
When they broke apart at last, Salvador’s eyes went immediately to Ivan, who’d been standing quietly by the tree. “I’m sorry. That was rude.” He wiped away his tears, his eyes sliding shyly away from Ivan’s in the way of a submissive who’d come face-to-face with an unfamiliar dominant. “I should’ve said hello.”
“I would be the same with a lost member of my family,” Ivan said, her mate who understood how much such bonds could mean. “I’m Ivan. You must be Salvador.”
And though Soleil knew Ivan wasn’t a toucher, he held out his hand so Salvador could shake it, a gentle introduction designed to put a tactile-natured changeling at ease. She knew without asking that he would’ve tempered the strength of his handshake to echo Sal’s.
Some people would see that as manipulation, but Soleil knew her mate. He’d done it so that Salvador—a member of her family—would feel comfortable around Ivan. Because that mattered to Soleil … and because Ivan Mercant was a protector at heart, a hero who’d never apply the label to himself.
The contact made Salvador smile, his body immediately more at ease.
The cubs jumped down from her arms at the same instant and ran around the tree before trying to climb it. They were too little, of course, but their antics made her and Salvador laugh.
Sal had so many questions for her, and she for him. When she glanced at Ivan, he gave a slight nod, telling her without words that he’d keep an eye on the cubs. Sending him a wave of love through the mating bond, she let herself focus on the kind and brave member of her pack who’d put his life on the line to protect the cubs during the darkest time in SkyElm’s history.
She and Sal had been chatting for several minutes when she became aware of the silence from the cubs; she glanced over to see Ivan crouched down, both cubs in front of him. They were staring up at him and he was returning the scrutiny with as much interest. When Razi hesitantly put a paw on his knee and rose up on her hind legs, he scooped her up against his chest with one hand.
Nattie, not to be left out, jumped up on Ivan’s knee, then climbed up onto his shoulder with the liquid fluidity of an ocelot cub. Where he settled in, his tail flicking against Ivan’s chest. Razi, meanwhile, was licking his jaw and play-biting at his throat. He tugged her back with utmost care, then met her gaze and shook his head before pretending to nip her on the nose.
Razi made a happy sound and so did Nattie—right before the two swarmed him in an effort to “win” the battle. Ivan handled their wriggly, playful bodies with ease while giving them the freedom to play.
“He’s a good man.” Salvador’s words were quiet but potent. “When I heard that you, of all people, had mated a Psy, I couldn’t imagine it. But now I see …” He leaned against Soleil. “They went to him because he carries your scent, but they’re playing with him because of who he is.”
Soleil’s heart, it could barely withstand the beauty of the moment. She’d remember it always, this instant when her frosty-eyed Psy allowed two ocelot cubs to climb all over him without ever losing control of the situation. “He’ll make an amazing father.” It was a bone-deep knowledge, a thing primal.
That certainty only grew over the joyous time that followed. The cubs shifted into their human forms when they sat down to eat the cookies, and Salvador got them both into little overalls of olive green that he’d brought in the bag.
“Otherwise,” he said, “they’ll run off into the woods and come back with cuts and bites.” He waved a finger under Razi’s button nose, her skin a shock of cream and her silky dark hair cut in a style that reached her shoulders and was fringed over her brown eyes. “Certain cubs seem to forget their human skin isn’t as tough as their cub pelt.”
Giggling, Razi threw her arms around him, while Nattie, his eyes a greenish hazel he’d inherited from his mother, and his hair all black curls against rich brown skin, grinned around the cookie he’d already half eaten. He sat leaning against Ivan’s side, one of Ivan’s arms braced behind him.
When she met her mate’s eyes, she caught a painfully vulnerable expression in that gaze of striking ice—but alongside it was a violent protectiveness.
Ivan Mercant wouldn’t only make a wonderful father, he’d be a dominant the cubs in the pack adored. Because he had in him both the gentleness needed to not hurt their small hearts and the strength to maintain discipline, giving cubs the boundaries that made them feel safe.
Soleil couldn’t believe he was hers.
Her cat preened, delighted with itself for having grabbed hold of him before it was too late. And for this time under the late-afternoon sunlight, Soleil allowed herself to simply bask in that happiness. The darkness could wait.
Chapter 46
My grandmother is many things. First and foremost, she is a warrior for our family.
—Canto Mercant to Payal Rao
ENA WAS USED to being on top of situations, but this one she’d never seen coming. “He is as Ivan as always,” she said to the sleek black cat who sat by her side looking out into the stormy seas beyond.
His message to her had been simple: Grandmother, I would like to introduce you to my mate. I also need to speak to you about my ability.
“His mate.” She took one final sip of her tea, then set the delicate teacup aside. “And I have heard nothing of this even though Arwen and Genara were both in San Francisco of late.” As the cat twitched its tail, she sighed. “Yes, Arwen is a vault on such things, and Genara had other business. So, let me go and see this woman who has managed to make Ivan lower his shields.”
Mating was for life, so there wasn’t anything Ena could do about it if Ivan’s mate was someone not worthy of him. Then again, there was a lot Ena could do about many things. Her moral lines were gray at best when it came to actions to protect her family. And Ivan … she’d always felt she needed to protect him even more than the others. So of course he turned out to be the one who wouldn’t accept protection at all.
A stir in the air at her back.
Turning, she saw a woman of about five-two with hourglass curves—curves that had been denigrated under Silence, yet this woman had carried them with cool will and an equally steely refusal to bow down to the surgeon’s scalpel. She was dressed in tailored and wide-legged pants of gray into which she’d tucked a cream-colored blouse that buttoned up to the neck and at the cuffs. The woman’s dark hair was pulled back into a neat twist, her makeup flawless against the warm brown of her skin.
“Payal. Thank you for taking the time.” Payal Rao, anchor, member of the Ruling Coalition, and CEO of a major business empire, was a powerful and busy woman. Normally, Ena would’ve rescheduled this meeting until one of the other family teleporters was available—but Ivan asked for her so rarely and she’d made a promise to herself that she’d always respond when he did.
“It isn’t a problem, Grandmother.” Payal’s eyes held a brightness that had grown in the time since their first meeting—a brightness Ena saw echoed in her eldest grandson, Canto. He and Payal had bonded to the core.
“Canto has told me to spy for him,” Payal said in her clipped way that betrayed nothing. “He has no idea why you need a teleport into DarkRiver territory, and it’s annoying him so much that he’s currently baking croissants from scratch.”
Ena had come to view Canto’s fiancée as another grandchild, liked her a great deal; she understood better than most what it was to hold a shield against the outside world for so long that it became all but automatic. Looking at Payal just now, no one would guess that she’d die for Canto—and kill for him.
“We are in the same boat,” she told Payal. “It appears Ivan has mated.”
Payal blinked once. “In DarkRiver territory?”
“Exactly so.” Ena slipped on a light evening coat of a soft camel hue over her tunic of rich brown and simple flowing pants of the same, the heirloom ruby pendant she always wore a familiar weight against her upper abdomen. “Lucas Hunter’s pack is known to have Psy and human members, so it may not be a changeling.”
She slipped her hands into the pockets of her coat. “If it is … Well, I didn’t expect Valentin, either”—a truly vast understatement—“and next month I am to stay in the bear den for a weekend.” Ena often wondered if her grandchildren had conspired to unsettle her in her later years.
“Talking of unexpected things,” she said, “how are the wedding plans progressing? Canto mentioned musicians.”
Payal’s smile was a stunning dawn. “Traditional tabla players,” she said, motioning with her hands to indicate flat drums. “They’ll announce Canto’s entrance into the wedding venue.”
Yes, Ena’s grandchildren were making her later years interesting to say the least.
“Are you and Magdalene still available for wedding lehenga shopping?” Payal asked, her tone even.
But Ena sensed the need within this woman who’d grown up in a pit of vipers. Unlike with Ena’s clan, family had never been a safe place for Payal. She hadn’t yet internalized what it meant to be embraced as an honorary Mercant—including the loyalty that came by default.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Ena said. “Has Magdalene shared her portfolio of color scheme combinations for your wedding décor?”
Payal’s eyes widened. “No.”
“Ah, I may have jumped the gun. Do act surprised when she presents her gift. And know that it is given without any expectation that you will utilize one of her schemes. She just wishes to be involved.”
Though Canto had long forgiven his mother for the inadvertent part she’d played in his ugly childhood, Ena knew that Magdalene continued to carry a knot of guilt deep within. It was Ena’s hope that seeing Canto so happy with Payal would soften that terrible knot in her daughter.
SOLEIL was still a touch shaky from the impact of knowing Ivan was now hers without conditions, without shields of any kind, but it was a happy kind of shaky—that was about to get even happier.
Salvador was bringing the cubs over to her. When she’d called Tamsyn to ask where Natal and Razi were so she could visit, she’d learned that they’d gone home with Salvador—and that they were awfully excited to see her new aerie after Tamsyn had mentioned it.
So Soleil invited Salvador to bring them over. After she and Sal cried on the phone at being reunited, she said, “Some kind packmate stocked up the pantry with supplies—I have countless people I need to find and thank—so I have everything I need to make cookies. They should be ready by the time you arrive.”
After she and Ivan’d had a quick shower together, full of tender touches and wonder at the bond that sang through them both, she’d retrieved her clothing and got to baking, while Ivan made a trip to the car to get their gear.
To protect the native vegetation, the pack had rules about where vehicles were permitted, so it was a twenty-minute round trip for him. Or it should’ve been—he’d apparently decided to run part of it, because he was back in under fifteen, hitting the verandah with the bags just as she popped the cookies in the solar-powered eco-oven set into the wall.
“You sure you’re not a cat?” she said with a laugh when he prowled back in, her shopping bag in one hand and his duffel in the other, with her daypack slung easily over one shoulder.
“Cat or Mercant, not much difference that I can see. Sneaky runs in the bloodline.” No smile on his face, but she could feel it in the mating bond and it was a little bubble of happiness inside her. Happiness she clung to, refusing to look at the grim cloud that hovered on the horizon.
Last time she’d asked, Ivan had said he’d hit full psychic strength early morning the next day. At which point, he’d walk back into the ChaosNet and be forced to use his ability, further eroding his control on it.
“Ivan?” she said when he emerged from the bedroom after dropping off the bags.
He looked up from his phone. “Sorry, message from Canto with an update on an ongoing security issue we’re looking into. It’s not urgent.” Slipping the phone away, he came to lean his shoulder on the wall at the end of the counter where she was preparing the second sheet of cookies. “What is it?”
“Your grandmother helped you create your shields against what you call the spider, right?”
“Yes, but they no longer work—or only to a limited capacity.”
Soleil used a fork to flatten the balls of cookie dough. “It’s been two decades, give or take. Why don’t you talk to her again? Could be she has some new ideas.”
When he stayed silent, she looked up. “I know you don’t want to do it because she’s never going to accept your cage plan—but that ship has sailed all the way to outer space. Your mate isn’t about to accept that, either.” She shook the fork at him. “No point being a chicken about your grandmother’s fury.”
A narrowing of his eyes before he walked over … and nipped sharply at her ear, exactly as she might do to a misbehaving cub. Squealing, she threatened to poke him with the fork. He managed to stay out of reach as he got behind her and wrapped her up in his arms, pinning her own gently to her sides.
“Take that back,” he murmured in her ear, the rumble of sound making her toes curl onto the wood of the floor.
“No.”
He tickled her.
“Hey!” That wasn’t fair! He wasn’t supposed to know how to tickle! But he’d somehow learned, and she couldn’t take it. Giggling so hard she dropped the fork on the counter, she said, “I surrender!”
“And?”
“And you’re no chicken.” Turning her head, she nuzzled his jaw, her cat so utterly delighted with him for playing with her that she’d let him get away with anything right now. “Where did you learn the tickling?”
“I caught a glimpse of the memory when you told me about how your mother used to tickle you.”
Of course he’d remembered that, because he remembered everything about her. Now, holding her from behind, he rubbed his face against the side of hers. “You’re right about one thing—the situation has changed. I’ll talk to Grandmother. You can meet her, too.”
A fleet of butterflies in her stomach. “I’m ready.” No, she wasn’t, but she’d fake it until she made it.
Five minutes later, Ivan told her he’d set the meeting for six thirty that evening, on the heels of when Salvador would be heading home with the cubs. Sal had told her in advance that they’d promised to have dinner with Yariela, so they wouldn’t be staying to eat.
“Yariela said she’d have invited you,” he’d said, a smile in his tone, “but then she heard that it’ll be your first night in your new aerie with your mate and told me to make sure the cubs and I didn’t hang around too long.” The affectionately teasing tone of a packmate.
Oh, how she’d missed these small interactions, all of them part of the larger tapestry of being a member of a pack. “Talking of hearing things,” she’d said in turn, “how was your date, hmm?”
Salvador’s blush had been apparent in his voice. “I’ll tell you all about it when I come over.”
That time arrived all too soon, and Soleil yelped at the realization that she still had no panties. Ripping open the relevant package, she picked the thinnest pair, then ran into the bathroom to handwash them. At some point, Ivan, who’d been on a call, came over to see what she was doing. “Why,” he said, “are you using a hair dryer to dry those?”
She ran the long flat stick over the lacy panties she was holding in one hand. “Because I don’t want to wear wet panties!”
“I thought changelings weren’t troubled by nudity.”
“I’m not worried about Sal and the cubs, but we’re heading to see your grandmother straight after and I am not meeting her without panties!”
Arms folded over the casual short-sleeved black shirt he’d changed into, he leaned against the doorjamb. “Grandmother is a woman of many talents, but she doesn’t have x-ray vision.”
“Doesn’t matter.” She willed the stupid thing to dry; it was a damn itsy bit of lace she’d bought in an Ivan-induced sensual fugue. “I’ll know.”
“I’ll just tell her you had a wardrobe malfunction.”
Her head all but swiveled on her neck. “What!” Then she felt it, the ripple along the mating bond that was Ivan Mercant teasing her.
She pointed the dryer at him. “I will get you. Later. After I dry these damn panties.”
Someone, somewhere had mercy on her and the lace was dry enough to wear comfortably by the time she had to scramble down the tree to meet the cubs. Ivan was already there, having carried down the cookies for her, as well as a closed bottle of chilled milk. He’d then done a second run to grab the glasses and a picnic blanket that he’d already spread out by the time she—and her panties—made it down.
His eyes went straight to the spot between her thighs.
Heat blazed on her cheekbones. “Behave.”
No smile, but his eyes warmed, and she felt it again, that ripple in the mating bond that told her Ivan Mercant would one day laugh. He had wickedness in him, her mate, just didn’t know how to show it on the outside yet.
All they needed was time.
Swallowing hard, she looked to the right. “I can hear them.” Small excited rustles as the cubs ran toward her, Salvador’s stride more measured and calm.
Then there they were, two tiny ocelots so excited to see her again that they pounced right into her arms. Laughing, she kissed and snuggled their small, warm bodies, meeting Salvador’s gaze over their heads. Her packmate had come in human form, a bag slung over his shoulder.
Dark-skinned and of medium height, his build stocky, he had the softest brown eyes in the universe—and they were wet at that instant. “Leilei, it really is you,” he whispered, dropping the bag to the side to hug her, the cubs happily squished in between them.
Her cat keened inside her, so happy to see him, scent him, that it was overwhelmed. She wanted to shift but didn’t want to drop the cubs to do so, and she was wearing a pretty new dress that Ivan had chosen when she’d asked his opinion while deciding between two options.
It was all wonderfully too much.
When they broke apart at last, Salvador’s eyes went immediately to Ivan, who’d been standing quietly by the tree. “I’m sorry. That was rude.” He wiped away his tears, his eyes sliding shyly away from Ivan’s in the way of a submissive who’d come face-to-face with an unfamiliar dominant. “I should’ve said hello.”
“I would be the same with a lost member of my family,” Ivan said, her mate who understood how much such bonds could mean. “I’m Ivan. You must be Salvador.”
And though Soleil knew Ivan wasn’t a toucher, he held out his hand so Salvador could shake it, a gentle introduction designed to put a tactile-natured changeling at ease. She knew without asking that he would’ve tempered the strength of his handshake to echo Sal’s.
Some people would see that as manipulation, but Soleil knew her mate. He’d done it so that Salvador—a member of her family—would feel comfortable around Ivan. Because that mattered to Soleil … and because Ivan Mercant was a protector at heart, a hero who’d never apply the label to himself.
The contact made Salvador smile, his body immediately more at ease.
The cubs jumped down from her arms at the same instant and ran around the tree before trying to climb it. They were too little, of course, but their antics made her and Salvador laugh.
Sal had so many questions for her, and she for him. When she glanced at Ivan, he gave a slight nod, telling her without words that he’d keep an eye on the cubs. Sending him a wave of love through the mating bond, she let herself focus on the kind and brave member of her pack who’d put his life on the line to protect the cubs during the darkest time in SkyElm’s history.
She and Sal had been chatting for several minutes when she became aware of the silence from the cubs; she glanced over to see Ivan crouched down, both cubs in front of him. They were staring up at him and he was returning the scrutiny with as much interest. When Razi hesitantly put a paw on his knee and rose up on her hind legs, he scooped her up against his chest with one hand.
Nattie, not to be left out, jumped up on Ivan’s knee, then climbed up onto his shoulder with the liquid fluidity of an ocelot cub. Where he settled in, his tail flicking against Ivan’s chest. Razi, meanwhile, was licking his jaw and play-biting at his throat. He tugged her back with utmost care, then met her gaze and shook his head before pretending to nip her on the nose.
Razi made a happy sound and so did Nattie—right before the two swarmed him in an effort to “win” the battle. Ivan handled their wriggly, playful bodies with ease while giving them the freedom to play.
“He’s a good man.” Salvador’s words were quiet but potent. “When I heard that you, of all people, had mated a Psy, I couldn’t imagine it. But now I see …” He leaned against Soleil. “They went to him because he carries your scent, but they’re playing with him because of who he is.”
Soleil’s heart, it could barely withstand the beauty of the moment. She’d remember it always, this instant when her frosty-eyed Psy allowed two ocelot cubs to climb all over him without ever losing control of the situation. “He’ll make an amazing father.” It was a bone-deep knowledge, a thing primal.
That certainty only grew over the joyous time that followed. The cubs shifted into their human forms when they sat down to eat the cookies, and Salvador got them both into little overalls of olive green that he’d brought in the bag.
“Otherwise,” he said, “they’ll run off into the woods and come back with cuts and bites.” He waved a finger under Razi’s button nose, her skin a shock of cream and her silky dark hair cut in a style that reached her shoulders and was fringed over her brown eyes. “Certain cubs seem to forget their human skin isn’t as tough as their cub pelt.”
Giggling, Razi threw her arms around him, while Nattie, his eyes a greenish hazel he’d inherited from his mother, and his hair all black curls against rich brown skin, grinned around the cookie he’d already half eaten. He sat leaning against Ivan’s side, one of Ivan’s arms braced behind him.
When she met her mate’s eyes, she caught a painfully vulnerable expression in that gaze of striking ice—but alongside it was a violent protectiveness.
Ivan Mercant wouldn’t only make a wonderful father, he’d be a dominant the cubs in the pack adored. Because he had in him both the gentleness needed to not hurt their small hearts and the strength to maintain discipline, giving cubs the boundaries that made them feel safe.
Soleil couldn’t believe he was hers.
Her cat preened, delighted with itself for having grabbed hold of him before it was too late. And for this time under the late-afternoon sunlight, Soleil allowed herself to simply bask in that happiness. The darkness could wait.
Chapter 46
My grandmother is many things. First and foremost, she is a warrior for our family.
—Canto Mercant to Payal Rao
ENA WAS USED to being on top of situations, but this one she’d never seen coming. “He is as Ivan as always,” she said to the sleek black cat who sat by her side looking out into the stormy seas beyond.
His message to her had been simple: Grandmother, I would like to introduce you to my mate. I also need to speak to you about my ability.
“His mate.” She took one final sip of her tea, then set the delicate teacup aside. “And I have heard nothing of this even though Arwen and Genara were both in San Francisco of late.” As the cat twitched its tail, she sighed. “Yes, Arwen is a vault on such things, and Genara had other business. So, let me go and see this woman who has managed to make Ivan lower his shields.”
Mating was for life, so there wasn’t anything Ena could do about it if Ivan’s mate was someone not worthy of him. Then again, there was a lot Ena could do about many things. Her moral lines were gray at best when it came to actions to protect her family. And Ivan … she’d always felt she needed to protect him even more than the others. So of course he turned out to be the one who wouldn’t accept protection at all.
A stir in the air at her back.
Turning, she saw a woman of about five-two with hourglass curves—curves that had been denigrated under Silence, yet this woman had carried them with cool will and an equally steely refusal to bow down to the surgeon’s scalpel. She was dressed in tailored and wide-legged pants of gray into which she’d tucked a cream-colored blouse that buttoned up to the neck and at the cuffs. The woman’s dark hair was pulled back into a neat twist, her makeup flawless against the warm brown of her skin.
“Payal. Thank you for taking the time.” Payal Rao, anchor, member of the Ruling Coalition, and CEO of a major business empire, was a powerful and busy woman. Normally, Ena would’ve rescheduled this meeting until one of the other family teleporters was available—but Ivan asked for her so rarely and she’d made a promise to herself that she’d always respond when he did.
“It isn’t a problem, Grandmother.” Payal’s eyes held a brightness that had grown in the time since their first meeting—a brightness Ena saw echoed in her eldest grandson, Canto. He and Payal had bonded to the core.
“Canto has told me to spy for him,” Payal said in her clipped way that betrayed nothing. “He has no idea why you need a teleport into DarkRiver territory, and it’s annoying him so much that he’s currently baking croissants from scratch.”
Ena had come to view Canto’s fiancée as another grandchild, liked her a great deal; she understood better than most what it was to hold a shield against the outside world for so long that it became all but automatic. Looking at Payal just now, no one would guess that she’d die for Canto—and kill for him.
“We are in the same boat,” she told Payal. “It appears Ivan has mated.”
Payal blinked once. “In DarkRiver territory?”
“Exactly so.” Ena slipped on a light evening coat of a soft camel hue over her tunic of rich brown and simple flowing pants of the same, the heirloom ruby pendant she always wore a familiar weight against her upper abdomen. “Lucas Hunter’s pack is known to have Psy and human members, so it may not be a changeling.”
She slipped her hands into the pockets of her coat. “If it is … Well, I didn’t expect Valentin, either”—a truly vast understatement—“and next month I am to stay in the bear den for a weekend.” Ena often wondered if her grandchildren had conspired to unsettle her in her later years.
“Talking of unexpected things,” she said, “how are the wedding plans progressing? Canto mentioned musicians.”
Payal’s smile was a stunning dawn. “Traditional tabla players,” she said, motioning with her hands to indicate flat drums. “They’ll announce Canto’s entrance into the wedding venue.”
Yes, Ena’s grandchildren were making her later years interesting to say the least.
“Are you and Magdalene still available for wedding lehenga shopping?” Payal asked, her tone even.
But Ena sensed the need within this woman who’d grown up in a pit of vipers. Unlike with Ena’s clan, family had never been a safe place for Payal. She hadn’t yet internalized what it meant to be embraced as an honorary Mercant—including the loyalty that came by default.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Ena said. “Has Magdalene shared her portfolio of color scheme combinations for your wedding décor?”
Payal’s eyes widened. “No.”
“Ah, I may have jumped the gun. Do act surprised when she presents her gift. And know that it is given without any expectation that you will utilize one of her schemes. She just wishes to be involved.”
Though Canto had long forgiven his mother for the inadvertent part she’d played in his ugly childhood, Ena knew that Magdalene continued to carry a knot of guilt deep within. It was Ena’s hope that seeing Canto so happy with Payal would soften that terrible knot in her daughter.
