Steely gray eyes held Silver’s, the power in them a pulse against her skin. “You must understand this new world better than anyone else in the family. You will lead after I’m gone.”

Silver did not ever think of her grandmother’s mortality; Ena was too strong, too much a force of nature. “You’re only eighty-three years of age.” Those of her grandmother’s generation were forecast to live to a hundred and twenty at least.

“Life is a volatile process, Silver. When you were born, I could’ve never predicted that, today, we’d be living in a world where the most brutally powerful cardinal in the Net would be openly in love with a woman whose closest friends are emotion-drenched empaths.”

Ena’s gaze was distant, seeing a past that had once been her present. “Designation E was outlawed then, empaths considered useless. Yet now, it is the Es who hold the PsyNet together. Without them, we’d all eventually fall prey to ravening madness. Even the most gifted foreseers did not see this coming.”

Silver had nothing to say to that—her grandmother was right. Change was a juggernaut crashing through the world. It could not be stopped, could not be turned back. Not that Silver would make the latter choice even were it possible. Silence was necessary for her, but for others, it was a cage. Empaths, brutalized by having their natural abilities crushed and belittled, were simply the most obvious casualties.

That wasn’t even the worst of it.

It was open knowledge now that the century of Silence had done catastrophic damage to the fabric of the PsyNet. All Psy needed the biofeedback provided by their connection to a psychic network. Cut that link and an excruciating death would follow in a matter of minutes. Silence had poisoned that critical network, fostering pockets of seething darkness formed of all the emotions the Psy refused to feel.

That darkness had turned into a malignant rot that caused the “ravening madness” of which her grandmother had spoken. It was the E-Psy, with their ability to handle even the worst emotions, who had created the Honeycomb, a golden shield against the rot. But even the Es couldn’t fix everything. Because what wasn’t common knowledge was that in constructing a cold world where Psy didn’t mate with or love or marry humans, Silver’s race had unknowingly removed a vital element from the PsyNet.

The psychic network that was the lifeblood of millions of Psy was in the midst of a slow but catastrophic collapse. Unless Psy could once more win human hearts, bringing their unique energy back into the PsyNet, the destruction of the Psy race was inevitable.

So yes, Silver agreed that the fall of Silence was a good thing.

Still . . . “Bears?” She looked out to where she knew Valentin waited. “There’s a distinct chance I will go insane with no help from the PsyNet malignance required.”

Her grandmother stood. “You are a Mercant. You can handle a clan of bears.”

Of course she could. That wasn’t the point. “What did he ask of you in return for safe harbor for me?”

“Nothing but that we will never harm the clan or help anyone else do so. Nor will we ever share anything we learn about StoneWater. I have given my word that the Mercants will honor that request.”

Rarely given, Ena’s word was as durable as a diamond without flaw. So was Silver’s. Mercants might not believe in loyalty to anyone beyond the family unit, but contrary to the popular perception of their family as cold-blooded and mercenary, they also did not betray those who’d assisted them in such ways. Honor still meant something to Silver’s blood. “That’s all?”

“It appears this particular bear is not cutthroat.” Ena paused. “That could be a problem.”

Silver knew this was her out; she could convince her grandmother that Valentin was too softhearted to provide any real protection against an external threat—but that would be a lie. Silver did not lie to her grandmother. “StoneWater bears have a reputation for not starting the brawls they’re involved in.”

The latter was part of why the clubs kept letting them back in. “However, once the fight is on, they will not back down. They’re also fiercely territorial and overprotective of those they consider under their care. Should I accept StoneWater’s offer of safe harbor, Valentin would tear off the head of anyone who threatened me.”

“Excellent.” Ena turned toward the door. “Get dressed. You’ll be weak—an unfortunate side effect that can’t be ameliorated by anything except time—but I want you safe before someone not bound by confidentiality realizes what’s happening.” A pause. “Trust no one, Silver. Especially not any member of our family.”

After her grandmother left the room, having first pulled the privacy curtain around Silver’s bed, Silver got up with care. Her muscles felt like jelly, her entire body aching, but she could stand as long as she was careful about it. Upright, she reached for the items folded neatly on the bedside table.

They were the clothes she recalled putting on that morning, all except for her panties. Those were still on her body. But since her bra was missing, she thought the medical staff must’ve had to cut through it to get to her chest. The bruising around her chest area when she opened the hospital gown seemed to bear that out.

Grandmother, why am I bruised on my upper half? she asked telepathically as she took off the gown.

Your heart didn’t stop, but the doctors were afraid it might, so they prepped for resuscitation. They say the bruising appeared fifteen minutes after they pumped your stomach. A side effect of the poison.

Silver didn’t know of any poison that would do this, but toxins weren’t her field of expertise. I’ll need the medical files.

They’re already waiting for you in your secure PsyNet vault.

Thank you. Silver finished buttoning up her white shirt, reached for the cloud gray of her skirt. As she pulled it on over her hips, she consciously regulated her breathing to keep herself from passing out.

If half a glass had put her close to cardiac arrest, then a full glass would’ve ended her life. Had Valentin not interrupted her breakfast, he would’ve broken down her door to find a dead woman.

She paused.

Why had she immediately thought that he’d break down the door? As if it were a given.

His sense of smell, no doubt, she told herself. He’d have scented the first signs of decomposition. She didn’t know if any such scent would be present so soon after death, but why else would she have thought he’d break down her door?

A door that was built to withstand earthquake forces.

Not a determined alpha bear, however.

Silver had a healthy respect for the ursine sense of determination—and also their occasional lack of common sense. Wolves she could negotiate with. Selenka Durev thought like a predator, and so did Silver. They understood each other.

Bears, however . . . Even after all this time, Silver did not understand bears.

At least Kaleb appeared to have the same issue: it had taken him twice as long to come to an understanding with StoneWater as it had with BlackEdge. The bears weren’t actually politically aggressive, except in protecting their territory, but neither were they open to sensible negotiations. No, they’d refused to take Kaleb seriously until he’d “have a beer” with them.

Kaleb had instead teleported in with a ten-foot-tall cask of beer and told them he’d be teleporting it into the nearest volcano unless someone sat down and discussed the territorial situation with him. According to her boss, it was only the threat of so much beer going to waste that had caused Zoya Vashchenko, the former alpha of StoneWater, to agree to a meeting.