—Dr. Rebekah Patel to Councilor Ming LeBon (2080)

SELENKA’S GUT LURCHED, her wolf feeling terror as it had never before done. “That’s it,” she said, gripping his chin. “No more delaying the experiment.”

Blood-specked eyes fading into pure black. “I’ll contact Aden, get the people we need.”

Even with Psy abilities, Selenka knew that would take a little time. Enough for her to wrap her arms around Ethan and just hold him. “You won’t be alone in that room without light, Ethan,” she murmured. “You’ll never be alone again.”

Shuddering, he fell into her and they stayed locked like that until Aden telepathed to say everyone would be at the entrance to den territory in ten minutes. Only then did they break apart and dress. Selenka alerted her team to expect visitors, asking Kostya to escort them to the location she’d chosen for the experiment.

She and Ethan made it to the spot below a small hill with several minutes to spare.

Reaching underneath a fall of vines, she twisted the old-fashioned doorknob. The door opened in smooth silence. “This is a small den created by a pack that was here long before us. We don’t know who they were or when they lived here, but our specialists say it dates to at least four hundred years ago.”

Once inside, Ethan touched his hand to the inner wall, the surface smooth under his palm—as if thousands of hands had touched it before his. “I wonder what a psychometric would read if they placed their hand here.” It felt as if this place was full of untold stories.

Selenka gave him a bemused look. “I’ve never thought of allowing one here, but some are qualified archeologists and historians, aren’t they? Maybe I should think about it—after all, I have my own personal Arrow to ensure they don’t do anything underhanded.”

“The chance to examine an old wolf den would be far too unique for them to risk it,” he said as Selenka picked up a flashlight from a box close to the door. “You’d have the best of the best Ps-Psy fighting to be chosen.”

“You’re selling me on the idea,” she said, switching on the flashlight. A powerful beam of light pierced the dark. “This den’s built similarly to ours, with stone walls and internal rooms without windows. Unlike us, however, they didn’t have artificial light systems.”

In other words, turn off the flashlight and this became a cocoon of pure darkness.

Ethan didn’t say anything until Selenka showed him to the closest internal room. “It’s perfect.” A place that made his breath quicken and his skin grow hot, it was so near the claustrophobia of his old cell.

His mate’s hand closing over his, the scent of her in his lungs. He gulped in air, reminding himself that he wasn’t in a cage, would never again be in one. “I’m in charge of the light,” she said, her fingers tight on his. “And on whether the door stays open or shut.”

She slammed a hand over his mouth when he would’ve argued. “We are not negotiating on this. I will not allow you to torture yourself without reason.”

Ethan looked at his fierce, deadly mate, this woman who fought for him. A woman he’d promised to court and only gotten as far as a single paper wolf. Nowhere near what he wanted and planned. After this, he thought on a roar of determination and pressed a kiss to her palm.

Vow sealed.

Narrowed eyes from his mate before she angled her head to the door. “They’re here.”

Aden had gathered together a team that included Memory and her mate, as well as Sascha Duncan. The person who accompanied the cardinal this time was a green-eyed man with black hair and what appeared to be claw marks on one side of his face. Lucas Hunter, alpha of DarkRiver and Sascha’s mate.

Memory’s right cheek was indented with sleep wrinkles, her curls wild around her head, but her eyes bright with determination. Her mate was a predator on full alert, his gaze taking in everything around them.

Aden stayed with the others, but his mind touched Ethan’s. I’ll keep constant watch.

I know, Ethan said, because Aden Kai was a leader who kept his word.

As for Kostya, the lieutenant had a private update for Selenka. “Blaise’s people are contained, church secured.” His square-jawed face held the echoes of fury. “Ivo’s onsite with Dinara.”

Selenka’s mouth tightened, her eyes turning partially wolf, but she just nodded before leading everyone into the historical den.

Kostya stayed outside, on guard.

Ethan was partway down the entrance corridor when he realized Memory had balked at the doorway. Her mate was arguing with the empath, his growls low and deep, and Ethan knew Alexei didn’t want her to do this.

I was kept captive by a psychopath in an underground cell, my mind caged, for fifteen years.

Setting her jaw as Ethan was about to tell her it was all right, she didn’t have to come, Memory stepped into the den—with her hand locked to bone-white tightness on Alexei’s. The wolf followed, his temper flashing in his eyes . . . but the kiss he pressed to her temple was tender, his body angled so hers was nestled into it.

“She has courage.” Selenka’s voice, low and quiet.

“Yes.” Ethan took his own mate’s hand. “She shows me the life I could have, the life I want.” He stepped forward.

It was time to fight the madness that would steal his future.

Once inside the chosen room, he released his mate’s hand and went into the farthest corner, his path lit by the beam of Selenka’s flashlight. Sealed against the external world, the space was clean except for a musty scent to the air and a bit of dust. His head ready to explode from the pressure of the rogue power, Ethan took one last look at his mate, then turned his back to the doorway and pressed his palms to the wall.

You have permission to enter my mind to watch the results, he telepathed to Sascha, Memory, and Aden.

Sascha and Aden responded with a simple acknowledgment, while Memory remained silent. She understood by now how her mind affected his. But he knew she’d heard and would do as asked; they had to find the answer . . . whether good or bad. Ethan had to know the enemy he faced.

He stared at the wall against which he’d braced his hands.

Should his ability go rogue, the position would minimize the amount of light to which he had access. Shards of stone would ricochet into his face, but that was a small price to pay to keep from becoming an accidental murderer. Closing his eyes, he looked inside his mind. His telekinetic shields were holding with no sign of strain.

However, the far stronger shields he’d constructed against the rogue power bulged outward with every beat of his heart, the surges violent smashes. Yet they didn’t fracture—because unlike with his previous shields, Sascha had designed these to flex.

Swallowing hard against the fear of madness that was his nightmare, he went to begin the experiment . . . and felt strong feminine arms sliding around his body from behind. His back muscles stiffened. “It’s not safe.”

Selenka pressed a kiss to his back. “I’m not letting you do this alone.” Another kiss. “We walk into the darkness together.”

Eyes hot and heart cracking into pieces, he closed one hand over her own . . . and dropped the shields against the rogue power.

Chaos slammed his mind, but it was oddly distant. Overwhelmed by a ferocious wave of protectiveness and concern and an emotion tender and potent and with claws that curved around him in a defensive wall. Love. Even as the winds of chaos howled, he held on to that fierce, beautiful emotion as he looked inward.

His telekinetic shields were holding strong. He would not be a murderer today.

Ethan, re-engage shields.

Aden’s voice came through the chaos crackled with static. But Ethan heard. Pulling up the flexing shields Sascha had designed, he began to corral the rogue power. It didn’t work. The power was too violent, waves of radiant light behind his eyes. Gradient 9 or higher.

Sweat dripping down his brow, he pressed both hands to the wall once more.

Selenka pushed her hand under his clothing to press it flat against his abdomen, the skin-to-skin contact a shock that cut through the nightmare of fighting a battle he could feel himself losing. “Lock onto me,” she ordered. “Sense only me.”

It was easy to find her wolf in the insanity. Easy to anchor himself to that wild, beautiful emotion that stole his breath. Gripping on to her, on to their bond, he began to rebuild his shield, piece by piece by piece. Until his muscles quivered and his head throbbed, and the rogue power shoved furiously against the flexing shields.

He had it contained, but it had taken almost all he had.

It was the worst possible time for him to get an urgent telepathic call from Krychek: Major new surge in the Net. High chance of total failure. Fifty thousand affected. Check for a Scarab trail!

Ethan’s muscles were shaky, and his head ached, but he couldn’t turn away from this, couldn’t abandon all those innocent lives. “PsyNet emergency,” he managed to say before he entered the PsyNet. Not having the energy to maintain his body on the physical plane, he felt it collapse . . . but he knew his mate wouldn’t let him fall.

Once on the Net, he went to ask Krychek for directions, then realized he could see flickers of lightning in the distance. So many flickers. A cascade. Racing to that area, he discovered the lightning was already fading, the damage done catastrophic. A large section of the PsyNet was badly buckled and cracked, an inch away from critical failure.

He saw two huge minds working on it, knew both Kaleb and Aden had been pulled into this repair. Other strong minds joined them one after the other, all the high Gradients who could pouring their power into the repair.

Bypassing them, Ethan continued to follow the trail. It split without warning. He went for the strongest of the three, and had just barely pinpointed the source mind before the trail blinked out.

Conscious Aden was busy, he reached telepathically for another senior Arrow mind. Vasic wasn’t within reach. Neither was Axl. But he found Nerida. I have the location of one of the Scarabs. He sent through the PsyNet coordinates. I’m unable to maintain a watch. There were three, and—