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MOVING far faster than most people expected bear changelings to move, Valentin caught Silver’s slender body before she’d done much more than sway on those ice-pick heels she liked to wear. He knew it wasn’t the heels that were toppling her; Silver was never in any danger on those heels. The woman walked on them like he walked on his “bigfoot-sized” feet, as described by one of his three older sisters.

“I’ve got you, Starlight,” he said, scooping her up in his arms and walking into her apartment.

He’d been trying to get in for ten long months, ever since he first met Ms. Silver Mercant. But he’d never expected it to be because she was convulsing in his arms. Placing her on the dark gray of the sofa, he turned her onto her side and gripped her jaw to keep her head from jerking too hard. At least she was breathing, though the sound was ragged.

With his other hand, he grabbed his phone, went to call Kaleb Krychek. The viciously powerful telekinetic could get her to help far faster than any ambulance. But Silver’s body was spasming too violently for him to both hold the phone and keep her from hurting herself. Swearing under his breath, he dropped the phone and placed his other hand on her hip, holding her in place.

“Not how I wanted to put my hands on you, moyo solnyshko.” He kept talking so she’d know she wasn’t alone, but his blood was chilling with every second that passed. It was going on too long.

Deciding to risk it, he released her hip and, snatching up his phone, managed to make the call. “Silver’s apartment,” he said to the pitiless son of a bitch who was Silver’s boss. “Medical emergency.”

He dropped the phone as Silver jerked again. “Hold on, Starlight,” he ordered in his most obnoxiously alpha voice, trying to keep her body from wrenching painfully at the same time. If Silver was going to respond to anything, it would be to the idea that he’d dared give her an order. “You’re tougher than this.”

Her eyes, that glorious silver, met his, the pupils huge . . . right before her body went limp.

Kaleb appeared in the room at the same instant, the Psy male dressed in a flawless black-on-black suit. “What happened?” he asked, his voice as cold as midnight on the steppes.

“Get her to a doctor,” Valentin growled, the sound coming from the human male’s vocal cords but carrying the bear’s rage. “Tell them it was poison.”

Kaleb was smart enough not to waste time questioning him. He simply teleported out, taking Silver with him. Teeth gritted at the fact she was out of his sight, Valentin got up and, going into Silver’s kitchen, began to pull out anything that could be food. Psy had strange ideas of food—meal bars and nutrient mixes. The only surprise in Silver’s cupboard was a block of fine dark chocolate.

Wondering if he’d discovered a secret about the most fascinating woman he’d ever met, a secret he could use to sneak past her defenses—no, he had no shame whatsoever when it came to Silver Mercant—he turned over the block and found a small card still attached to it. The writing was in English. It said: Thank you for your assistance, Ms. Mercant. I hope you enjoy this small taste of our family business. ~Rico Cavalier

His bear rumbled inside his chest.

This was the kind of gift a man gave a woman he was interested in—but it looked like this Rico had struck out if the chocolate was sitting in the back of what passed for Silver’s pantry.

Good. Otherwise, I’d have had to pound the fool into dust.

The only one courting Starlight was going to be Valentin.

Having collected all possible food items, including some bland-looking “cake” from the cooler that was probably a nutrient-dense protein supplement, he began to go through them. Changelings had the sharpest noses of the three races.

Bears had the sharpest noses among changelings.

Nothing would escape him now that he’d pinpointed the poisonous scent from the millions of others in the air at any one time: the exemplar had come from Silver, her body screaming a warning to his senses as the poison went active.

“Hungry, Alpha Nikolaev?”

He didn’t start at Krychek’s midnight voice, having scented the cardinal telekinetic’s return to the room. Thankfully for his nose, Kaleb didn’t have the astringent metallic scent that some Psy did, the ones who were so deep in the emotionless regime they called Silence that Valentin didn’t think anything would get them out.

It was as if they’d cut out their hearts and souls.

Silver was pure ice, but she didn’t have that metallic scent, either. It gave him hope. As did the faint touch of fire he kept picking up around her, a hidden sunshine that flickered against his skin. Valentin was determined to seduce Silver’s hidden wildness out into the light. Who better than an uncivilized bear, after all?

“How is she?” he asked, looking Krychek in the eye.

The telekinetic’s gaze was the eerie white stars on black that denoted the strongest among the Psy race, difficult to read even if it hadn’t been Kaleb Krychek—a man Valentin respected for his relentless will but mostly for his unexpected capacity for loyalty.

StoneWater did its research on possible business partners. Valentin, a young second to Zoya at the time Krychek first appeared on StoneWater’s radar, was the one who’d dug into the Psy male. And what he’d discovered about Krychek was that if you didn’t betray him, he wouldn’t betray you.

Valentin could work with a man like that.

Especially since Krychek had had the good sense to employ Silver.

The words the telekinetic spoke were toneless. “The medics are working on stabilizing her.”

Valentin’s gut clenched.

A deep rumbling building in his chest, he held out a barely used jar of nutrient mix. “This has the same toxic scent as what I scented on her—get it tested. I’m going to finish checking the other items.”

Kaleb left at once, no doubt aware that, to treat Silver effectively, the medics needed to know the type of poison she’d ingested. Because while Valentin could tell something was toxic, he couldn’t separate out individual poisonous scents—not when he’d never made it a point to learn those gradations.

He saw the half-full glass on the counter, realized he’d interrupted Silver at breakfast. He didn’t need to lift the glass to his nose to scent the toxins swirling in the coffee-colored liquid. If he’d been here, he would’ve smashed that glass out of her hand before a drop touched her lips.

Jaw grinding, he handed the glass to Krychek when the other man returned. The third time Krychek came back, Valentin had found a second contaminated jar of nutrient mix. “It was the third from the front on the right-hand side,” he said, knowing the location of the poisoned jars might be important. “The nutrient bars were clean.” He’d ruthlessly opened each and every packet, exposing them to the air and to his nose. “Silver’s going to be mad I trashed her kitchen.”

Kaleb took the jar, examined the label, then teleported out with it. When he returned, he said, “That was ordinary nutrient mix available at any Psy grocer.”

“You thinking product tampering?”

“It’s a possibility—those of my race are not universally liked.”

That was a vast understatement. Many of the Psy might be attempting to regain their emotions after more than a hundred years of training themselves to feel nothing, but their previous rulers had done massive damage, killed and tortured and created a deep vein of ill will.

Both humans and changelings had long memories.

“The other option is an assassination attempt.” Krychek’s cardinal eyes took in the mess Valentin had made of the food. “I trust in your sense of smell, but I’ll get everything tested regardless.”

Valentin felt no insult. This wasn’t about pride. It was about Silver’s life. “Do it. Now tell me where she is.”

Kaleb slipped his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Silver hasn’t mentioned a friendship.”

“I’m working on it.” Had been doing so since the day he’d walked scowling into a meeting and come face-to-face with a woman who made him think of hidden fire and cold, distant, searingly brilliant starlight. And, let’s be honest: skin privileges. Naked skin privileges. Wild-monkey skin privileges. He couldn’t be around Silver and not have his body react. Her own body, it was slender, but with all the right curves. And she was tough, tough as a female bear out for blood.

Never once had she backed down against his deliberate provocation.

His bear liked that. A lot.

Enough to throw her over his shoulder and carry her off to his lair if only she wouldn’t fry his brains for daring. He was tempted to chance it anyway. He had a hard head, could probably take it so long as she wasn’t trying to kill him.

That mind of hers . . . He’d never met its like. Silver Mercant forgot nothing, and she had a steely presence that made even rowdy bears sit up and take notice. Woman like that, she’d make one hell of a mate. Too bad she refused to even consider the idea: Silver wasn’t budging on the whole emotionless Silence thing.

“My people chose Silence for a reason,” she’d said to him three visits earlier. “While parts of that reasoning have proven false enough to topple Silence for many, other parts still apply. I am and always will be Silent. That means I will never be ready to ‘run off ’ and experience ‘shenanigans’ with you.”

No matter. Valentin had a plan.

Because she damn well was going to survive. “Don’t even try to stop me from seeing her, Krychek,” he said to the cardinal, who still hadn’t spilled Silver’s location. “I’m bigger and meaner than you.”