Wolf Rain (Psy-Changeling Trinity #3)(127)

“Yeah?”

“I’m tired of you jerking awake in the middle of the night.” Furious at his pain and the way he continued to hurt himself imagining the worst.

“I thought the honeymoon period would last longer.” It was a grumble. “But if it bothers you, I can sleep on the couch.”

“Ugh!” Memory grabbed hold of his hand. “You’re coming with me.”

He didn’t resist, a slight curve to his mouth. “So no separate sleeping?”

“Just try to go to the couch and see what happens,” she threatened. “Today, you drive where I tell you to drive.” She hadn’t yet learned the skill, though she was down to do so in two months’ time in Alexei’s home den. Alexei had introduced her to the packmates in that den via the comm, and the teens were delighted that she and another older packmate were going to be joining their driver’s ed class.

He’d also introduced her to his aunt and her family. Clementine “Min” Harte had arrived at the Sierra Nevada den a day later. “To welcome my Lexie’s mate properly.” The honed SnowDancer soldier’s hug had been fierce, and she’d brought with her the gift of a sparkling bracelet. “I heard your abductor allowed your familial history to be destroyed.” A lopsided smile. “No secrets in a pack.”

Memory had no argument with that; she wanted to live her life in the open, in the light.

“I can’t bring back that history,” Alexei’s young aunt had said, “but I can start you off on creating your own history to pass on to your pups. This bracelet belonged to my sister, Lexie’s mother.” Warm hands cupping Memory’s face. “I saved it for Lexie’s mate.”

Memory’s eyes had filled, spilled over. “It means so much.” Clementine Harte could have no idea of the depth of her joy at being so deeply accepted by Alexei’s family. “Thank you.” She knew without asking that Clementine had given another piece to Etta. It hurt her heart that she’d never meet the lost young woman, but she would get to know her from Alexei’s stories of his brother and Brodie’s mate.

“There’s no need to thank me.” Clementine had kissed her forehead. “We’re family now. You two are expected at the dinner table every week once Lexie’s back in our den.”

In her, Memory had seen where Alexei got his stubborn will and calm control. Today, however, she was the one who planned to be stubborn. “Go left,” she instructed. “There’s another path to the right after that.”

“Bossy mate,” Alexei grumbled, but he followed her instructions . . . until he brought the vehicle to a sudden halt.

“Memory.” His hands clenched on the steering wheel.

“You have to go.” She put her hand on his forearm, loving but determined. “Keelie Schaeffer is the closest thing changelings have to an expert on rogues.”



* * *



? ? ?

ALEXEI knew that. He’d been ignoring it for years.

Grinding his jaw, he squeezed the steering wheel even harder. “I don’t want to know what she might tell me.” A confession he could make only because Memory was his mate, his lioness who loved him without boundaries. “As long as I don’t know, I can have hope.”

Keelie Schaeffer had apparently managed to track down the records of over a hundred rogues across three generations and had come up with multiple commonalities among all of them. If anyone could predict who would go rogue, it would be her.

Memory put her hand on his thigh as she leaned across the seat. “You tell me to trust my instincts and abilities. Now, my wolf, I’m asking you to trust them.” Obsidian eyes full of stubborn conviction. “I know you don’t have it in you to go rogue.”

She spread her hand over his heart. “I know, Alexei. I feel your connections with your family, your pack, your friends. You might try to keep your distance, but you always fail. Your life is full of those you love, who love you, while rogues inevitably shut out the world.”

Alexei dropped his head back against the seat. “Brodie didn’t come to my birthday party.” It had been thrown by the senior soldiers in his den, a laid-back event involving pizza and beer—and a huge-ass chocolate cake.

When Alexei didn’t see Brodie, he’d asked a friend if they’d told his brother.

“Yeah, of course,” had been the answer. “He’s probably running late. I bet he gets here in time for the cake.”

But Brodie hadn’t come at all. Worried something was wrong, Alexei had tracked him down. “He’d forgotten birthdays, other events before, was nearly late to his own mating ceremony.” If Alexei hadn’t dragged him out of bed after a drunken party with friends the night before, Brodie would’ve been lucky to survive Etta’s wrath.

“But then, he’d laugh and cop to flaking, and we’d share a beer and it was all good. I never expected Brodie to be anyone but who he was.” Not always reliable, but always loyal. “That day, however . . . the way he looked at me, it was so flat and emotionless.”

“The one thing your brother had never been.”

“Looking back, that’s the day I’d pick out as the critical turning point, but back then, I was just hurt.” He blew out a harsh breath. “Stupid, huh? I was a lieutenant and I was hurt by my brother not bothering to say happy birthday.”