Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 128413 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128413 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Mliss raised a perfectly arched eyebrow underneath asymmetrical razor-cut black bangs that framed an elegant face with wide cheekbones and full lips against tanned olive skin. “What? You thought it’d be all dominance fights and chest-beating?”
The tall COO puffed out her cheeks and squared her slim shoulders before beating her fists against the white silk of her shirt. “Me alpha man, hear me roar.”
“Why the fuck am I surrounded by assholes?”
“This asshole made you coffee to take the edge off and is plotting vengeance against that one group, so stop with the snarling.” She placed the mug on the table, her scent a comforting mix of pack and the threads that were just her, including a faint undertone of roses that came from her favorite soap.
Intelligent, a tough negotiator, and much better at public relations than Remi, Mliss’s “grade” in the pack, if he was to use Auden’s terminology, was senior maternal. As such, she had significant dominance. Maternals ran the gamut from deeply submissive to dominant enough to face off against a soldier, and, despite the name, weren’t only women. It just happened to be the one term that had stuck in the changeling world.
In a pack, maternals generally took charge of everything from organizing the education of the cubs, to disciplining their young, and ensuring a pack felt like a home. Maternals were why their older kids had just aced a set of countrywide exams, why the dining aerie was set up like a cozy room in someone’s private aerie, and why Remi’s aerie had curtains that suited his personality.
Maternals were also some of, if not the most ruthlessly organized people in a pack. Add that to Mliss’s MBA and other qualifications, and she’d been a slam dunk to be the head of operations of their public HQ.
He’d borrowed the idea of a public HQ from DarkRiver. It not only permitted RainFire to keep their territorial lands private, a bland public office also removed the intimidation factor when it came to humans and Psy who’d never before interacted with changelings.
While some idiots thought them dumb, others expected Remi’s kind to go around clawing off people’s faces, rending them limb from limb, then dragging their bodies off into the forest to feast on. It didn’t help that certain juveniles found it the height of hilarity to spread exactly those rumors online. The last one Remi had seen was a solemn account of how a SnowDancer wolf had made a cape out of an intruder’s skin.
Juveniles were punks, but at least they’d picked the right pack for that little fantasy. SnowDancers didn’t play if you encroached on their territory. Neither did Remi, his leopard vicious in defense of his own.
But today, he wasn’t dealing with a threat to the pack. He was with his own, people who trusted his far more dominant and deadly leopard to keep them safe. Mliss wouldn’t stand a chance against Remi in a rage. Neither would built-like-a-linebacker Theo. Their bond was a thing of trust and loyalty.
“Me alpha,” he snarled. “Me drink coffee.”
Mliss, standing with her back against the counter, snorted coffee out of her nose and down her shirt. Even as she cursed him, she was laughing until tears rolled down her face.
Theo, who’d been an invaluable help over the entire interminable nine-day odyssey, all of it designed to build RainFire’s business network, poked his head inside to see what was going on. He still wore his chocolate brown suit, complete with an unmolested silk tie and a pristine white shirt. “Oh, Liiiiissy,” he said in a singsong way, “how are you going to explain that stain to your big sister, hmm? Didn’t she buy that for you in some fancy schmancy boutique in Paris?”
Mliss stopped laughing long enough to glare daggers at him. “You snitch to her and I’ll bite off your face, Theo ‘I can’t mind my own business’ Ortiz.”
The big sentinel held up his hands, palms out. “Hey, I was just making a comment.” He glanced at his wrist. “Forty minutes till our next meeting, Remi. You want a briefing or you up to speed?”
“I read the notes,” Remi grumbled before giving the sentinel a narrow-eyed look. “Why do all these meetings not drive you nuts?” Man’s eyes were still shining and even the loose curls of his hair looked bouncy.
Theo shrugged. “I dunno. I like chess. Business is like chess.”
Mliss, who’d given up on dabbing away the coffee from her top, came over to sit in the seat opposite Remi. She brought a tin of cookies with her—because she was a maternal, even if of the hard-ass variety. “Eat and stop being a sourpuss.”
Remi begrudgingly ate four cookies, while Theo inhaled half the tin. Remi’s brain, however, wasn’t focused on the cookies studded with nuts and topped with sugar crystals. “You think you could deal with being out here on a more regular basis?” he asked Theo, who was propping open the door while he ate cookie after cookie.