Wolf Rain (Psy-Changeling Trinity #3)(61)

Chest rumbling, Alexei leaned down and bit the tip of her ear.

When she jumped, he snarled. “Don’t you dare let him fuck up your head.”

Pulling back to glare up at him while she rubbed at her abused ear, she said, “He’ll come after me.” A hard fact.

Alexei moved his hand to the side of her throat, ran his thumb over her skin. “Get strong. Get shielded. I’ll give you a big knife as your graduation present so you can take the first hack at his neck before I tear it off.”

It was a bloodthirsty thing to say. Memory didn’t balk. Fisting her hands in the sides of Alexei’s sweater, she rose on tiptoe; she wanted to kiss her angry wolf, comfort him with touch.

But he grabbed her wrists, strong fingers holding her away from him without causing her pain. “I’m not a wolf you want to play with.” Wild amber eyes, claws brushing her skin. “I don’t have the patience to ease you into anything.”

Her chest heaved, her skin tight and a strange tension in her abdomen. “Who asked you to go easy?” she challenged, the raw physicality inside her a dark new force she could barely comprehend.

“You’re a kitten when it comes to intimate skin privileges,” he growled, his eyes flicking to her hair, lingering. But the stubborn wolf didn’t give her a compliment, didn’t play with her curls as he’d bargained with her to do. “I eat kittens for breakfast.”

Memory kicked him. With the shoes he’d given her. “You’re a big, fat, wolfy liar,” she said, well aware she was striking a match to kindling. “My sneakers tell me so.”

The nerve in his jaw began to tick again. “An attack of middle-of-the-night madness. It won’t be repeated.”

Her ear yet stinging and her blood afire, Memory whispered nonsense low under her breath, and when he instinctively lowered his head to hear her better, she bit him on the jaw. Snarling, he pulled back . . . but didn’t let go of her wrists. “You are in so much trouble.”

“I’m terribly scared,” she said, batting her eyelashes at him in the most provoking way she could imagine.

Alexei’s hands tightened on her wrists before he let go and took a step back. “I’m serious, Memory. I’m not a good playmate for you.” Black shadows crawling across his face, the veins on his forearms standing out as he fisted his hands. “Find a nice tame human or Psy.”

It turned out that she had a rejection limit, and he’d pushed way past it. “You know what?” She pointed a finger at him. “You’re right. I’ll get right on finding better male company.” Turning on her heel even as his irises became ringed by amber, she stomped back into the compound.

Slamming into the cabin, she found Sascha seated at the kitchen table with sandwiches ready and two hot drinks waiting. “You get any angrier and you’ll set your hair on fire.”

Memory dragged back her chair and sat. “Alexei is treating me as if I’m a child, as if I can’t make adult decisions.”

Frowning, Sascha picked up her drink. “I’m usually firmly on the side of anyone coming up against dominant changeling protectiveness, but Alexei has a point.” She held up a hand when Memory’s head jerked up. “Before we carry on, you should know I asked him to give you space to settle into the cabin—he didn’t stay away on his own.”

Memory parted her lips, but Sascha wasn’t finished. “You don’t have a pack or a family looking out for you.” Intense and unblinking eye contact. “What kind of self-appointed big sister would I be if I didn’t poke my nose into your business and make sure you don’t get eaten alive by a wolf?”

The deep, warm feeling at being referred to as a sister collided against her aggressive need to forge her own path. “I can handle him.”

“I’m beginning to see that.” A wry smile. “But look at it from his side. Alexei can’t know if you’re attracted to him, or if it’s only gratefulness on your part.”

Memory narrowed her eyes. “I’m not a duckling, to imprint on my rescuer.”

“No, you’re not,” Sascha said slowly. “In fact, you’re incredibly well-adjusted and certain of your sense of self for someone who was held captive for fifteen years.” The cardinal leaned back in her chair. “Not only that, your captor violated your mind on a regular basis.”

Memory curled her fingers against the wood of the table. “Do you think I’m a fraud?” It came out a hard demand, her breath stuck in her chest and scorching flames under her skin. “Does the Collective?”

“Memory.” Sascha smiled in affectionate rebuke. “I’ve been in your mind, little sister. I know the truth better than anyone.”

Cheeks heating, Memory rubbed both hands over her face. “Sorry. It’s just . . .”

“I know.” Sascha took a sip of her drink. “I faced a lot of distrust when I first came in contact with DarkRiver. Trust takes time and a hundred small acts of loyalty to build—you have to be patient and so do I.”

Memory knew the other woman was right, that she couldn’t expect the world to just believe her, but that didn’t stop her from fuming about the unfairness of it. “Why do you think I’m not mad or broken? Why am I normal enough to pass?”

“Eat first,” Sascha ordered in a firm tone.