Wolf Rain (Psy-Changeling Trinity #3)(90)

“Might as well,” she’d said with a shrug. “It amuses me to know students will be studying at the Amara Aleine Library.”

Flip words, but she’d given up hours of her time.

Memory was still considering what that meant when Alexei parked his SUV in a lot attached to DarkRiver’s city HQ. “The cats are a lot more hooked into the pulse of San Francisco than us wolves,” he said as they got out. “This really is a feline city.”

She saw the curl of his lip, but knew by now that it was all for show. The cats and the wolves were blood allies—but they liked to pretend they couldn’t stand the sight of each other. Complete with innovative insults crafted with intense care. Grinning, she took his hand and suddenly realized she was now one half of a couple out for the night. A dream she’d only hours earlier believed impossible.

Rising on tiptoe, she kissed his bristly jaw. His responding smile was devastating, and she knew she’d take her golden wolf any way he’d trust himself to come to her. She’d love him with fierce devotion and raw honesty—and she’d hunt for ways to disprove his belief in the family curse. Not for herself, but because thinking himself a rogue-in-waiting wounded Alexei unbelievably.

“Memory!”

Jolted at hearing the sound of her name, she looked across the road and saw Sascha waving at her. Hunkered down on the ground beside her was a familiar dark-haired man with wide shoulders who appeared to be doing up the shoelace of a little girl with equally dark hair. She was holding on to his shoulders with tiny hands while she lifted her boot off the ground, as if to help him.

Sascha’s baby girl, not yet two years of age, wore a long-sleeved purple tunic over sparkly black tights. On the front of the tunic was a unicorn picked out in glitter. Her hair, soft but tumbled with curls, was in a jaunty ponytail. And in her hand, she carried a plas sword. Bright yellow, it matched the shield she wore on her back.

Memory waved back, not sure if she should approach or not. Alexei, however, was already stepping out onto the street, the area having been closed to traffic. “Luc,” he said when Sascha’s mate glanced up.

His eyes were a vivid panther-green in real life . . . and they made Memory shiver inside. Even if she hadn’t known she was looking at the alpha of DarkRiver, she would’ve known he was deadly. Power burned inside him, a hard slap against her senses.

“Alexei.” Rising to his feet, one of his daughter’s small hands clasped protectively in his, he held out the other to shake Alexei’s before shifting that feline gaze to Memory. His lips curved. “Ah, the creator of my new favorite wolf insult.”

Memory parted her lips to reply when a small voice piped up, “I’m Naya!” The little girl bounced on her shiny black lace-up boots, her eyes as green as her father’s. “I’m a danger!” She held up her sword.

“You look very dangerous,” Memory said solemnly, and was rewarded by a mischievous grin. She knew Naya’s physical dexterity was a changeling gift—Sascha had mentioned that changeling toddlers tended to walk much earlier than Psy, with humans also seriously outpacing Psy.

However, what she only now realized was that Naya’d also benefited from the Psy side of her DNA; the constant telepathic contact with her mother had accelerated her verbal development. The tiny girl’s speech wasn’t clear, but it was far more comprehensible than most children her age.

“Kitten,” Lucas said to Sascha, “why don’t you and Memory walk ahead, and Alexei and I’ll follow with our ferocious panther.”

Naya growled and showed her claws. Memory had to bite her lips to keep from laughing at the sheer adorableness of this tiny, unicorn-emblazoned, sword-carrying panther. Falling in beside Sascha, while Naya walked in between Lucas and Alexei, she said, “How do you ever discipline her? I’d have zero willpower against that face.”

“Luc does most of it,” Sascha admitted in a laughing whisper. “She knows I’m a soft touch.” The cardinal shook her head, her lips pressed tight. “The only thing I won’t bend on is anything to do with her safety, and she’s a smart cat, knows that. But otherwise, half the time, she’ll make me laugh while I’m trying to tell her not to do something, and it’s all over.”

Sascha’s cheeks creased, her eyes dancing. “Yesterday, while I was in the other room for five minutes, she changed into panther form, managed to climb up onto the kitchen counter, and, after shifting back to human form, opened the cupboard in which I keep the special fancy chocolate Lucas gets me. It’s too rich for her. I walked out to find her sitting naked on the counter, chocolate smeared all over her face and an innocent ‘I didn’t do it’ look on her face.”

Memory lifted her hands to her mouth, overcome by the sudden piercing knowledge that she’d one day like to be a mother to a naughty baby with her father’s wolf eyes. “What did you do?”

“I managed to give her a stern talking-to that time.” Sascha pushed her braid off her shoulder. “And my poor cub got a tummy ache later, so the chocolate stash will be fine for a little while—at least until she forgets.” Tenderness in every word. “I wouldn’t change her for all the world. She’s growing up wild and strong, with a pack full of friends.”

A small, warm body wriggled between them. “Mama.”

“Naya.” Taking her daughter’s hand on that singsong response that made Naya giggle, Sascha said, “Where’s your sword?”