Silver would cut Payal Rao to pieces before she allowed her to harm Canto.

“What if she’s Canto’s person?”

Silver stared at her brother. “Payal Rao?”

“Bear.”

“Be quiet. I’m your elder.”

“By ten minutes.” Laughing, he came over to hug her from the back, her brother with his snobby taste in clothes and a heart huge enough to contain the world. “But what if, Silver?”

Putting aside her need to protect, Silver made herself consider the question. “I want Canto to have what I have,” she said at last. “He has such aloneness inside him. If Payal can reach him in a way I don’t think even Grandmother has … then I’ll back her all the way.”

“And they call me the empath.” Arwen squeezed her tight. “I want that for him, too. He’s one of the best people I know—his heart, Silver, it’s a thing of courage and loyalty and stubborn will.”

“Payal Rao took over five corporations last week in a bloodless coup.”

“Alpha bear who can break you in half with his hands.”

Silver took off her bracelet. “I’m still going to spy on her.” Just in case.

“It’s the Mercant way.”

Chapter 26

A well-read bear is a dangerous creature.

—Unknown bear philosopher

PAYAL WAS GOOD at putting things in boxes, at shutting off parts of herself so the others could function. But though she crashed that night, a single need pulsed continuously at the back of her mind when she woke the next day. She kept on wanting to reach out to Canto even knowing he wouldn’t hear her.

She was all too aware it was dangerous to be so distracted, especially when she was summoned to a meeting with her father. Lalit was already in the room, as smooth and polished as ever. Neither one of them spoke as they waited for Pranath’s attention.

“Payal,” Lalit said when their father continued to ignore them, “you’re hiding out a lot in your room lately. Being overwhelmed, are you?”

Before Payal could point out that they were here to discuss a major deal she’d negotiated, Pranath lifted his head from the organizer on which he was working. “This is work, Lalit. If you wish to play games, do so on your own time.”

Lalit took a step forward, his hands in his suit pockets. A shove of telekinetic power pushed him back past Payal. That was … unexpected. Their father was a Tk, but not at the level evidenced by the strength of that shove. Which meant he had guards who were watching the goings-on in this room.

Watching, not listening.

Pranath Rao would never permit strangers to listen in on private family business. But those mirrors behind his bed? Yes, they could be one-way. Good to know.

Lalit stopped before slamming into the far wall. “That was unnecessary, Father.” He hitched his jacket back into place.

“Just a reminder that while I may be in this bed, I am the Rao king.” He made eye contact with them both. “You are only pawns on the chessboard.”

“You seem to forget that I bring in billions every year,” Payal said with cool pragmatism. “Shall I add up the value of my most recent deals?” She didn’t care about credit—it was about being seen as powerful rather than weak.

“You bring in those deals because I allow it.” Pranath’s voice was poisonous silk. “How long would you survive should I withdraw my protection?” A subtle reminder of the life-giving medicine that allowed him to act the puppet master.

“As for you.” He swung the pale sharpness of his gaze toward Lalit. “You have no self-control. That makes you a waste of time except for the fact that you’re my secondary heir.”

Was it any wonder, Payal thought, that Lalit regularly tried to find ways to assassinate her? Their father would like nothing more than for his two oldest living children to be vicious pit bulls straining at the leash to attack each other. Unfortunately, the psychological manipulation had taken with Lalit.

“Did you bring us here for anything useful?” Payal took no pleasure in any of this; her brother was a psychopath and had probably been born so, but the way they’d been raised hadn’t helped when it came to his pathology. Perhaps if he’d been given therapy in childhood, he’d have become a garden-variety psychopath instead of a serial killer in training.

Pranath tapped his organizer. “I’ve been approached by the Jannik-Kao Family Group with a possible opportunity. Lalit, I want you to run the financials. Payal, I want you to look at the overall possibilities. Sending information to you now.”

Then he dismissed them.

As they exited the rooms, Lalit murmured, “He created us both, you know that, don’t you?”

“Undeniable,” she said, keeping it to the facts because she’d long ago realized there could be no common ground with Lalit. If he ever reached out, it was to dig up her weaknesses.

Only once had she fallen for it: she’d been five at the time.

She’d ended up with burns all up one leg as a result. They hadn’t been of the worst degree and had mostly faded after all this time, but her skin was just a little tight there. Just enough to remind her to never trust any olive branch he might hold out. That branch would always be coated with poison—or broken shards of glass.

“Don’t you want to murder him sometimes?”

Did he really think she was foolish enough to answer that? “I have work to do, and so do you.” Turning right, she left him at the crossroads of the hallway, and she knew he was staring. Thinking again if he could take her.

She halted, looked over her shoulder, made sure he met her eyes.

His mouth tightened at the silent reminder that she was a cardinal, but he shifted on his heel and went the other way. That didn’t mean she was safe. It just meant he’d be cunning when he came after her. But then, she’d known that nearly all her life.

Canto.

His name was a beat inside her, but she could do nothing about it. What she’d done yesterday had drained her. If she teleported now, she’d make it to him—but only just. She’d have to stay with him until she recovered.

Her step hitched, her craving a current dragging her out into deeper and deeper water. But she couldn’t give in. She needed to stand sentinel, watch over the newly healed damage until he woke.