On the woman’s feet were strappy red shoes with two-inch heels.

“Hi! I thought you might be awake.” A beaming smile. “I’m Nova, the clan’s healer.”

“You’re also Alpha Nikolaev’s sister.” It’d be obvious even had she not known anything about Valentin’s siblings; the two shared a striking similarity of features, though what was hard and rough edged on Valentin was more an arresting elegance in Nova. No one would ever term her “pretty.” She was too uniquely beautiful for that.

“His older—but not eldest—sister,” Nova said. “Can I come in?” She stepped inside without waiting for an answer.

Silver could’ve stopped her, but being rude to one’s hosts was not how she’d been raised. “Am I wearing your jeans?”

“Bozhe moi, no!” Deep laughter. “Can you see these childbearing hips, as proudly described by my babushka, fitting into those skinny things?” She winked, ebony lashes coming down over one dark eye. “No, those are Moonbeam’s. Her parents are a little dippy, but Moon owns that name.” Having hauled in two large bags with her, Nova took several small boxes out of the bags while continuing to speak so fast that Silver could have no hope of interrupting.

“But,” Nova said, “while Moon has the skinny hips, I have the best taste in shoes in this entire clan and I think we’re the same size.” A minute pause before Nova gave a pained sigh. “Okay, okay, your babushka did send some shoes, but I will only give them to you so you don’t have to lie to your grandmother about receiving them. You have to promise not to wear them.”

“Is there a reason for your aversion?”

“The shoes are black and flat and sensible.” Nova shuddered. “Silver Mercant does not wear sensible shoes, though I bet your shoes are always comfortable.”

“Yes, they are.” Silver wore spike heels because it was part of the impression she wanted to project, but those heels were custom-made to ensure they never compromised her balance or ability to work.

“I knew you were a woman after my own heart.” Nova whipped out a scanner from her pocket, ran it over Silver’s chest area, frowned but put the scanner back, and focused on the shoes once again. “I mean, after I saw those photographs of you.”

“Photographs?”

“Oh, you know we spy on you and Krychek just like we spy on the wolves and you spy on us and the wolves.” Laughter rippled through Nova’s words. “Have to know the other predators in the area, right?”

Intriguing that the bears considered her a predator. They weren’t wrong, but most people tended to see only Kaleb, disregarding Silver as nothing but an efficient administrator. “You’ve brought a lot of shoes.”

“Ten pairs, and that’s not even scratching the surface of my collection. So if you want to borrow all of them, you can.”

“Thank you.” Silver ran her eyes over the various pairs on display. “While the heels would normally be my choice, it appears I’ll have to navigate uneven floors. I’m not practiced at walking in heels on such a surface.”

Nova nodded. “Yes, the floors are wobbly all over Denhome. I’m told that big, strong bears don’t like anything too civilized.” She made a face. “No one listens to my opinion on that, not even Stasya! She told me to start wearing practical shoes.”

Hands fisted, Nova pressed them against her hips, her arms akimbo. “Nova Nikolaev does not do practical shoes. I fell flat on my ass more than once when I first started practicing with heels at fourteen. Valentin laughed his ass off until I dared him to put on a pair and race me. You should’ve seen the fall he took.”

Momentarily diverted by the idea of Valentin wearing heels—even as a boy—Silver had to force herself to return to the matter at hand. “I think I should stick to more stable shoes for the time being.”

“Don’t even think about the sensible shoes,” Nova warned. “Try these little black half boots instead. They’re comfortable, cute, and they go with pretty much any outfit.”

Since Silver had already decided on those as her first choice should they fit, she sat on the bed and, pulling on a pair of thin ankle socks, slipped on the boots. When she stood to walk on them, she found the fit near enough to her size as not to matter. “These are excellent. Thank you.”

Nova waved off her gratitude with a smile. “I have an ankle-boot addiction,” she admitted. “Eight pairs at last count, three of them black. Anyway, I think you should have a pair of sneakers as well.”

Silver didn’t usually wear sneakers, but she wasn’t usually in a bear clan, either. “Thank you, I’ll try the . . .” She looked between the sparkly blue ones with white glittery moons and stars and the nonsparkly ones with a colorful tropical print.

Nova’s laugh was almost as big and warm as Valentin’s. “Don’t worry, I’m just teasing you. Here.” She pulled out a pair of simple canvas shoes from a bag, the color a solid dark blue. “You should watch for that, you know. We’re terrible at making fun of one another. Nothing mean, though.” The last was said very seriously, her following question without judgment. “As a Psy, do you understand jokes and teasing?”

“I understand the concept of jokes,” Silver said as she changed out of the half boots and into the canvas sneakers. “I don’t understand teasing. What’s the point?”

“The point is watching Valentin turn red every time I bring up the fact he once wore pink heels and fell on his butt.”

“Pink heels?” Silver said before she could censor her words.

“Well, if I was going to make my already nearly six-foot-tall baby brother wear a pair of heels, I wasn’t going to choose black, was I?” Nova’s eyes danced. “I was also definitely going to get photographic evidence for blackmail purposes in the future.”

“Do you still have it? The blackmail material?”

“Why?”

“Because I may have need of it,” Silver said, putting the half boots back on after confirming the canvas shoes were a good fit. “Your brother doesn’t appear to listen to the word ‘no.’”

A rumbling sound from Nova that had Silver coming to full psychic and physical alertness. “You’re angry.”

Nova’s eyes were no longer brown but a pale glowing amber. “My brother has never taken any woman without permission.”

“I’m not talking about sexual consent. I’m Psy. I don’t have sex.”

Nova’s mouth fell open, amber sliding to dark brown so fast that Silver didn’t catch the transition.

Collapsing next to Silver on the bed, the healer whispered, “Never? Ever?”

“Never. Ever.”

“It’s true then. The Psy reproduce only by scientific methods?”

“That’s likely to change post-Silence, but to date, yes.”

“Man.” Nova blew out a breath, shook her head. “Man.”

“It’s simply another form of exercise.” Silver had never had the chance to discuss this topic with someone from the emotional races—it was an aspect of changeling and human interaction that continued to escape her understanding. She’d previously predicted certain behavior, had her predictions fail spectacularly when sex was added into the mix.