Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 121389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
The wolf—Flint—clapped him on the back in the aftermath. “Bloody hell, Ivan. You ever want to join a pack, I think our alpha would happily accept you as a lieutenant.” He wiped off the blood at the corner of his mouth, winced. “At least I got a few claws into you.”
Ivan touched his aching ribs. “More than a few.” It had been far from an easy battle.
Flint’s teeth gleamed, the predator in his eyes pleased. “We’ll do it again in a few days. I’ll be more prepared next time.”
Ivan had zero doubts about that. This was why he was doing the training. Because the teachers were good and pushed both themselves and their students. But he was glad to be away in time to shower, then make his way to the forest clearing to meet Lei.
He wished he’d brought more sophisticated clothing so he could look better for her, but aside from a rough winter jacket, all he had were pairs of basic combat pants, T-shirts, and two sweaters of fine wool.
Not that Lei seemed to notice anything about his clothing when she walked into the clearing. A scowl immediately hitting her face, she put down her basket and ran over to him. “What have you done to yourself?”
He’d forgotten about the black eye until that moment. And the cut on his cheekbone. Oh, and he’d caught a swipe of a claw across his throat now that he thought about it. “Hand-to-hand combat,” he said. “Training.”
“Training?” She sounded like she was gritting her teeth. “You did this on purpose?”
“I need to learn how to handle myself against changelings.”
Shoving back the sleeves of her navy blue cardigan, she put her hands on her hips, against the deep pink of her dress, and glared at him. “Tell me who did this. I want to talk to them about their training methods.”
He had the strange sense that she’d do exactly that, march up and tell Jorge off to his face. So whatever animal she was, it wasn’t one that was scared of wolves. Or of dominants. But he didn’t get an impression of dominance off her—now that he’d been around the wolves long enough, he’d begun to intuit the power differentials. It wasn’t obvious to him as it clearly was to changelings, but it wasn’t opaque, either.
So he could tell that Lei wasn’t a dominant. But neither did she radiate the same feel as a submissive. He’d only met one submissive to date, as the wolves were incredibly protective of their more vulnerable packmates, and this submissive had just been dropping off Flint’s phone, which he’d forgotten at home. But that young male hadn’t met Ivan’s eyes except in short bursts. He had met Flint’s gaze, however, the deep trust between them obvious.
Lei, on the other hand, had never hesitated to look Ivan in the eye. “I’m okay,” he said to her. “It’s all surface wounds.”
Folding her arms, she tapped her foot. “What about the gash on your leg? Did you tear that open?”
He was very glad to be able to say, “No. I got it sealed.” A RockStorm nurse had turned up and done the repair, while marveling at Lei’s neat stitching. “The nurse was very complimentary of your skills.”
She sniffed, her nose a little up in the air. “Hmm.” Then she picked up her basket and they went herb hunting, while the frost of her temper lingered in the air.
Since Ivan had no idea what he was doing, mostly he just watched and listened to her. When she showed him a plant, he looked for it, and had a hundred percent success rate with identifications.
“That’s amazing,” she said an hour later, the frost long thawed. “Your memory must be incredible.”
“Just trained,” he said. “Memory skills come in handy in a family of spies.”
A burst of startled laughter. “Really? A family of spies?”
“Intelligence is our business,” he said. “Might as well be our family motto.”
“Do you have one? A family motto?”
He didn’t hesitate in answering. This was no secret he was bound to keep. It just wasn’t well-known. Dig deep enough, far enough back, and you’d find it. “Cor meum familia est. My heart is family.”
She sat back on her heels, her eyes shining. “Oh, how wonderful.” Hands fisting on her thighs, she said, “But isn’t that against the rules with Psy? I don’t know too much about your people but I’ve picked up bits and pieces, and that motto … well, it’s so poignant.”
“Yes, it’s against the rules—or was before the recent change in our leadership,” he said, the fall of the emotionless Silence Protocol yet too new for the knowledge to have settled inside him. “Too much inherent emotion.”
“So how did it survive?”
“Ancestors took it off public-facing buildings and off the crest that goes on outward-bound items, and the rulers of the time thought that meant we got rid of it.” He found a clump of an herb she’d wanted. “Stupid, really. Should’ve been obvious the family was as tight as before.”