Would you be willing to work under another? It wasn’t a question she’d expected to ask, since Lenik was otherwise so well suited to the position of senior aide.

His answer was immediate. Yes, but I don’t know if Kaleb will accept anyone else in the position.

I’ll speak to him. She’d already decided that she couldn’t keep her position as Kaleb’s senior aide while running EmNet. Both positions suited her, but EmNet was the one that stretched her more now—it was so new and unformed that she was literally laying the foundations as she went, building it from the ground up.

Making a mental note to speak to Kaleb about the senior aide position, she ended the conversation with Lenik, then began to scan the applications that had come through for positions on her team. Though she’d been exhausted last night, she’d placed the ad before she logged off. The recent series of events had brought home to her that she couldn’t continue to run EmNet with only an assistant.

In an effort to be transparent and open to all voices—because Valentin was right about EmNet needing to be seen as impartial—Silver hadn’t asked for recommendations from the various powerful groups. Rather, she’d placed the job advertisement through major news organizations around the world.

The ad requested that people with various specialist skills apply for a position on the EmNet team, those skills including: administration, coordination of resources, experience managing food supplies and water networks, engineering, and other knowledge that related to disaster relief.

The caliber of the people who’d already sent in applications was extremely high, and they came from across the racial spectrum. One in particular stood out—a human engineer who’d led a military search-and-rescue unit for over a decade, but who could no longer do the work because of a debilitating spinal injury that had left him without the use of the right side of his body.

She’d have to dig deeper into his work history before she decided, but for now, she put him at the top of the list of candidates. Someone with that depth of experience could run entire operations from a remote base.

Silver.

Kaleb’s voice was midnight in her mind, immediately recognizable. Sir.

I’ve just received a call from your building manager. She needed to contact you and said she’d lost your personal number.

Silver felt her brow furrow in a physical response to the information. Thank you. I’ll follow up with her. How did she get through directly to you? It was Lenik’s job to be a wall through which inconsequential items did not cross.

Sahara is helping Lenik deal with incoming matters, and she thought it might be something important. A short pause. It appears I need at least three people to replace one Silver Mercant.

Silver took the opening. You need to get another aide. Lenik is very good at what he does, but he doesn’t want to be at the forefront.

You mean he thinks I’m the bogeyman. Kaleb’s tone was as difficult to read as always. I have someone in mind, he added. I’ll have you interview her if you’re agreeable, see if she’s competent enough to take over.

Of course, sir. She should’ve known he’d be two steps ahead. Kaleb Krychek hadn’t become the youngest Councilor ever by standing back and letting events overtake him. When would you like the interview to take place?

It can wait until your safety is assured. Lenik is doing far better than I expected, and Sahara doesn’t mind juggling her duties with the empaths with assisting at the office.

She likes being with you, Silver said, and it was the most intimate thing she’d ever said to her boss. I apologize, sir, she said as soon as she realized what she’d done. I overstepped my bounds.

I think, Silver, you’ve earned the right to say what you want to me. And call me Kaleb. You’re no longer my senior aide. You’re now the director of EmNet, the world’s biggest humanitarian organization.

After Silver ended the conversation with Kaleb, she leaned back in her chair and considered the changes in her life over the past months, culminating in her attempt to discover if she could exist beyond Silence. Even now, her mind strained, listening. Nothing. No breaches. Her shields were intact even as her Silence fractured.

But this was only the start. A touch. A kiss. Affection.

What would happen when Valentin ran those big hands over her naked body?

Chapter 28

Bears have big bodies and big hearts. No one can ever argue otherwise. But there is a school of thought that says these big, blunt, gorgeous, and often aggravating creatures are the most sensitive changelings of us all. It’s hard to hurt a bear . . . but if and when you succeed, their pain is enormous.

—From the March 2078 issue of Wild Woman magazine: “Skin Privileges, Style & Primal Sophistication”

VALENTIN RETURNED TO the infirmary an hour after his previous visit. Once again, he found his tiny clanmate sleeping tucked up against his mother’s chest, his father’s hand on his back. Neither party objected when Valentin picked up the child and—having stripped off his T-shirt as he came in—placed the child against his own bare skin. The baby opened his fist against Valentin’s skin, and the fragile new thread inside him, the tug that told him this was one of his clan, grew infinitesimally stronger.

The baby’s pulse was so fast, his skin so soft, his bones so fragile. Valentin held him with utmost care, his alpha’s heart pounding in joy and fear both. Joy because this was a new member of his clan, a new clanmate to love. Fear because the cub was so very small, so vulnerable. His bear rose to the surface, a powerful beast. Nothing and no one would harm this child so long as Valentin drew breath.

What of the others?

The children who weren’t in Denhome, the ones who were far from their alpha’s protective arms.

He set his jaw, knew what he had to do. It was the same thing he’d been doing since the terrible day that had shattered StoneWater and left a permanent bruise on Valentin’s heart. He’d swung by for a reconnoitering visit early this morning but hadn’t made contact.

That was about to change.

Pressing his lips to his newest clanmate’s forehead, he murmured to the cub that he was home, that he was safe, that his alpha would permit nothing to happen to him. The boy was in a deep sleep when Valentin handed him back to his parents. “I’ll be out of the den for a while,” he told them, stroking his hand over Moira’s hair, his other hand on Leonid’s shoulder.

“If he becomes unsettled, Stasya, Petya, Pasha, or Yasha should be able to soothe him.” Bear newborns needed significant contact with their alpha during the first days of life—but if the alpha wasn’t available, a strong pack dominant could take his place for a short period.

Moira’s eyes grew wet when they met his. “Bring them home, Valya.” It was a heartbroken whisper. “I don’t like it this way. It’s not right.”

Her mate’s voice was more serrated, less forgiving. “They made their choice. They chose to blame Valya for something that has never been his fault.”

Squeezing the other man’s shoulder, Valentin said, “The adults made the choice. Not the cubs.”

Leonid shuddered, blew out a breath. “Chert.” He took his mate’s hand. “Go hug them for all of us.”

Valentin left the infirmary only to feel an immediate tug toward the tech chamber, which was slowly becoming Silver’s personal domain. Nobody—not even their resident tech expert, Pavel—was worried about the takeover. StoneWater bears were good at a lot of things but most didn’t particularly like computer work; they figured if Silver liked it, they could ask her to do things they were supposed to be doing.