Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 138217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
“We’ll find the answers you need, Thela.” A rough promise, Yakov brushing his hand over her hair as he brought the vehicle to a standstill in front of a red light.
His phone beeped before she could reply. He’d connected it to the car’s system and the name on the screen in the middle of the dashboard said: Mama Bear.
“Ma doesn’t usually call without reason,” he said, then gave the command to answer the call, following with: “Ms. Mama Bear Kuznets.” He said with a grin, “I have you on speaker. Theo is in the passenger seat.”
“Good” was the firm response. “You can bring her to dinner with the family. In one hour. The cantina.” Then she hung up.
Yakov groaned. “I do believe my mother has heard about our escapades at Club Moscow and about the fact I’ve been spending nights with you in the apartment. She has mother radar.”
Theo felt her cheeks burn, couldn’t quite understand her reaction. “She’s angry.”
Grinning, Yakov shook his head. “No, that’s what she always sounds like when she’s giving an executive order. Disobey at your own peril.” But once they got going again, he glanced over at her. “If you’re not up for it, I’ll say no. I might be scared of my mother, but I’m not a total chicken.”
Theo swallowed hard, and it was the rawness in her throat that decided her. “I’m dangerous,” she said. “I shouldn’t be around any of your family. Especially if there are young children.” She thought of the cubs, so sweet and trusting, that she’d met in the bakery, felt her heart stop at the idea of causing them harm. “You saw how I get, Yasha. I don’t know who I am. I forget how to be rational.”
Yakov’s bear was in his voice when he rumbled, “You can sit next to me, and if there’s a wall available, we’ll put you against it. I know the signs now. It’ll fucking kill me, but I promise I’ll knock you out the instant your expression turns vacant.”
Need a keening echo in her brain, Theo resisted the temptation to just say yes. “During the rages, I siphon power from Pax. I’m not a 2.7 then.”
“You’re also wearing that bracelet that I want to throw into a lake. You said it’s an early warning system.”
Theo looked down at the metal encircling her wrist. She’d fixed it, then secretly tested it in the bathroom. The pain had stabbed right into her bones. “Yes,” she said on a little bubble of hope so fragile and fine. “At its current setting, you’ll have a second, maybe two at most.”
“I always have a stunner on me. A second is all I need.”
Theo had been looking at—admiring—his body for days now, but she’d never once spotted the weapon. He was better than good, she realized, the knowledge a breath of freedom. “No hesitation?”
“No hesitation,” he promised. “The last thing I want is for a bunch of rampaging bears to pounce on you.” The brush of his knuckles against her cheek. “I want you to meet my family, Theo. And I want them to meet the woman of my dreams.”
Theo’s reservations crumbled under the primal caress in his voice. “Okay.”
Chapter 51
“Without your brother, and given the powerful influence of the Psy Council and their mandates, we could well have crossed the line from ruthless to cruel. He is our conscience and our soul.”
—Ena Mercant to Silver Mercant (date unknown)
ARWEN WAS MORE than used to bears by now. He adored the troublemaking, loving, loud changelings. And, following his infamous stint in a jail cell beside Pasha and several other bears, StoneWater had decided that he was an honorary bear—despite his “slick” suits and “shiny” shoes.
He might’ve taken the ribbing on his dress sense seriously if he hadn’t (a) seen Pasha himself in a suit one memorable time, and (b) met Zahaan. Bears, with their wide shoulders and changeling-hard bodies, could pull off suits like nobody’s business. It was a crime that of all of them, Zahaan alone seemed to appreciate that fact.
Arwen’s tailor bemoaned that fact every time he went in for a fitting.
It did make it all the more special that Pasha had done it for Arwen the day they’d gone to the Sea House for dinner. He had, in fact, been so well-behaved that night that it was disconcerting. Arwen loved that his bear had made the effort as a gesture of respect to Grandmother, but chert he’d been glad to get home and see his Pasha again.
The jeans-wearing rogue whose idea of fancy was a new T-shirt.
Today, given the occasion, Arwen had gone for casual—possible since he hadn’t come straight from a formal work commitment: a pair of dark blue jeans paired with a black shirt that had a triangular piece of detailing that angled down from one shoulder to about three quarters of the way across his chest.