Human or wolf, he could tear out a throat with little effort, but non-changelings found it easier to ignore that truth while changelings like Alexei were in their human form.

The E’s hand began to shiver in his not long after they left Jitterbug’s grave. The two of them were under the canopy of the trees now, the rain no longer as hard on their bodies and the snow more manageable, but the weather hadn’t let up at all. In fact, it looked to be getting worse.

Clenching his jaw as he fought the urge to tuck her against him, share his warmth, he kept her hand in his and tried to stay under the canopy as much as he could. When the wind whistled in, he used his body to shield hers. His frustrated wolf grumbled the entire time; the human side of Alexei agreed with the grumbling.

This would go much faster if he could just pick up the E and run.

Only he had a feeling she’d panic and fight . . . or go motionless and stiff. The latter would be worse, revealing bone-chilling terror. Alexei wasn’t about to traumatize her that way, not after some bastard had already put her in a cage.

To his surprise, she kept up with him the entire way. He wasn’t going fast, but neither was he pausing to let her rest—the weather was too cold for her to survive if she stopped; he’d worried she’d collapse partway. But she kept going, one dogged step after the other. Unfettered respect wiped away his earlier pity, his wolf looking at her with new eyes. This was how she’d survived in that bunker.

The woman beside him was a fighter.

The last part of the route to the substation meant crossing an empty field that, in the summer, was a favorite resting ground for wild black bears. Currently, it was full of snow turned into slush by the rain, the substation door barely visible in the gloom caused by the storm and the oncoming night. The gale-force winds almost bent them in half as they crossed that final stretch and, this time, he did put his arm around her. She didn’t attempt to break away, and he got them both to the substation.

As with all the buildings SnowDancer had built in their territory, it was designed to blend into the environment. Dug out of a small hill, the door was cleverly camouflaged with paint that echoed the surroundings, then hidden under trailing foliage. While the empath waited next to him, her bones all but clattering from the cold, he opened up the concealed entry-panel and used his palm print to unlock the door. He nudged her inside the second the lock snicked open.

She froze, a stone statue glued to the earth.

A scream of pure emotion hit him with vicious force.

Chapter 3

The ability to broadcast powerful emotion at a changeling mind appears to be a rare skill, and is currently limited to Sascha Duncan, possibly because of her mating bond with a changeling*—though the critical factor may be that Sascha also has a child who has genetic heritage from both races. Sascha’s mate and child are also connected to her on the psychic plane.

Further data is required before we come to any conclusions; at present, any inference we make would be no better than a blind guess.

*DarkRiver Leopard Alpha, Lucas Hunter

—Manuscript of The Mysterious E Designation: A World Beyond Silence by Alice Eldridge with research assistance from Sahara Kyriakus and Jaya Laila Storm (Work in Progress)

ALEXEI’S WOLF GROWLED, cold and wet and wanting out of this storm—but mostly wanting her out of it. About to pick up the damn tiny E with the huge mental voice and get them both inside, he suddenly realized what was going on.

Alexei Vasiliev Harte, you’re an idiot.

Opening up the panel again, he input an administrative code, then took her fisted hand in his—it was stiff, uncooperative. “I’m adding you to the system,” he said, a growl in his voice that came from untrammeled fury directed at the person who’d done this to her. “Put your palm on the panel.”

The E didn’t move, her breath coming in rapid gasps.

Her lips were beginning to turn blue. Alexei ran out of his already strained patience. Claws pricking the inside of his skin, he put one arm around her waist and literally lifted her up until he could get her fist on the panel.

“Spread open your fingers,” he said when her fist remained closed tight. God, he was ready to bite her. Didn’t she realize how close she was to hypothermia?

“I’m trying to give you a key.” He couldn’t help the snarl in his next words, all thoughts of being civilized and gentle forgotten. “Or would you prefer to freeze to death outside? I’m sure a snap-frozen E would delight your captor. He could just pick you up and put you back underground.”

Emotion slapped at him: a blast of raging fury. She flexed her fingers open, pressing her palm flat on the screen of the reader. On the back of her index knuckle was a ridged white scar that might’ve come from a childhood cut that hadn’t healed well, and her nails were ragged at the tips. Not as if she bit them, more as if they’d broken and caught on things and she hadn’t cared to smooth out the damage.

Alexei initiated the scan while continuing to hold her up with one arm around her waist. Her silent fury bared its teeth at him. So, his E had anger within her. It made the wildness inside him open its mouth in a devious smile. If infuriating her was what it took to break through her trauma and panic, Alexei would push every button he could. There was a reason his alpha considered Alexei one of the best strategic minds in the pack—and why his friends had banned him from the poker table.

The scan complete, the screen flashed.

Putting the E down, he input a second authorization code, then scanned his palm again to lock in the change. He turned to see that she was staring at the panel and at his hand. He’d been careful to angle his body so she couldn’t see the authorization codes—not that she could do anything without his living palm on the screen to confirm any changes—but the lieutenant part of his brain noted her intense focus.

It was likely a symptom of her need for freedom, but until he knew more about her, he couldn’t discount an ulterior motive. “You can come and go at will.” He’d given her local access only and he’d revoke it as soon as the two of them left the substation.

With that, he scanned the door open a second time. But this time, when she didn’t enter, the tactical center of his brain told him to shrug and act unconcerned—despite his feral protectiveness toward this small, bedraggled creature he’d brought this far. “Not my job to babysit lost Es,” he muttered loud enough that she’d hear. “If having your eyelashes freeze and break off while your face turns a nice shade of blue is your thing, enjoy.”

No whiplash of emotion against his senses, but he was sure he spotted a spark of fire in her eyes before he stepped into the substation. He’d let that anger simmer, heat her up. His aunt Clementine was a talker, unlike the E, but when she got really mad, she’d go quiet and fume.

Like that time Alexei and Brodie had decided to skip school for no reason except that they were pissed at the world. That, Aunt Min would’ve forgiven, but that they’d been asshole boys who’d taken off without a word and stayed “lost” for two days? Yeah, she’d stripped their hides for that.

Alexei had been only twelve, but he’d figured he deserved it.

He’d also learned that, sometimes, when a woman got quiet, her anger was all the darker and deeper for it. It could fill her up, make her bigger, stronger. Though if his E didn’t come in soon, he’d have to force the issue. The thought made his muscles knot—he didn’t want to force her inside, have her see this safe place as another cage, but she’d die of cold if she stayed out much longer.

He made himself walk into the substation; he’d give her as much time as he could.

Unlocking the door had turned on the lights, and he had to blink a couple of times to adjust to the sudden change in brightness, his pupils yet dilated from the storm-gray dullness outside. After checking that the entrance area was devoid of any equipment, he shook himself off. It felt much better when he did it as a wolf, but it wasn’t yet time to be a wolf. The care he took to balance out the two sides of his nature was about survival and about the choices a man had to make to retain his sanity.

Inside him, his usually irritable wolf stood motionless in solemn agreement.

The two parts of Alexei’s nature were never at odds on this one thing.

A stirring near the door as he thrust both hands through his hair to push it back from his face. The strands were getting a bit too long for his liking. Once, when things had been different, when Brodie had still been alive and Alexei had been a younger brother to someone, he’d worn his hair long enough to tie back.

He hadn’t felt young since he put his big brother in the ground.

The E stepped inside.

Wolf acting nonchalant inside him, Alexei made a show of removing his sodden boots and socks and placing them to one side of the entrance. Only after he was done did he glance back. The E was staring at the door, which was beginning to close.

“Automatic timer,” he told her. “To stop the rain, wind, wild animals from coming in and damaging the equipment on the off-chance one of us forgets to close it.”

The door shut.

Her shoulders stiffened, her hands fisting bloodlessly tight by her sides. Panic beat against his skull, the weight of the spiny and discordant emotion a hammer. And how was she doing that in the first place? He knew Sascha Duncan had learned to unleash her empathic abilities against people of all races, used it as a defensive measure when under attack, but it had taken her time and effort to work out the technique.

No other E could assault changelings in such a way.

Most empaths could take away pain and soften the edges of emotional trauma in Psy, humans, and changelings, but drenching others in powerful negative emotion? That was a whole other story.

Yet this skin-and-bones E was blasting at him, no holds barred.

Shaking his head in an attempt to dispel the barrage, he growled loud enough to fill the space. The emotional storm screeched to a halt; the E froze, then sent him a wary glance . . . with an edge of that delightful fury he intended to stoke into a fire.

He pointed to the panel on the inside wall. “You have the key,” he reminded her. “Stop punching me with emotion or I might decide to eat you.”