It was now nine-thirty; she’d had a prearranged session with Amara at seven-thirty and she’d kept to it. In her own way, Amara was trying, and Memory didn’t want to interrupt any progress she’d made. Because something very weird had begun to happen: Amara’s lab mates and twin had reported instances of normal empathy at random times between sessions.

One time, she’d noticed when a colleague cut his finger and gotten him a Band-Aid.

Another time, she’d helped a pregnant colleague move lab equipment.

In neither case had her actions helped Amara in any way.

Renault had never shown any long-term changes. Whether it was because Renault had been a murderous psychopath and Amara wasn’t compelled to murder, or because Memory was working voluntarily with Amara while she’d been forced by Renault, no one knew. It was also possible the effects were blips that’d never be repeated, but Memory wasn’t about to give up if there was any hope. Especially as she had Amara’s full agreement.

“I have never seen a lack in me,” Amara had said. “But I cannot evaluate a life of which I have no comprehension. As a scientist, I must experience both, then make the call. If the effect of your ability sticks, at some point, I will reach an equilibrium where I will see both sides with equal clarity—that moment is far distant, and so we continue.”

Memory had also shared how thinking like Amara had helped her escape Renault. As she’d expected, Amara had been overcome with amusement. “I’m glad the wolf tore out his throat,” she’d said later. “An individual stupid enough to get between a wolf and his mate is clearly no loss to the genetic tree.”

No matter what, Amara was still Amara.

Memory would continue to both work with her and attend sessions at the compound, even though she was moving into the den. Right now, she couldn’t see anything beyond the clearing but for a mountain overgrown with plants and moss. The snow had melted away at this elevation and the grass in the clearing was tall and green under the brilliant morning sun, only the odd droplet of dew still clinging to the blades.

Despite the sense of emptiness, she knew other wolves were around, their wild emotions music in the air. Many were distant echoes but a couple seemed so close and so bright that she felt as if she was right on top of them. Frowning, she glanced at Alexei . . . to see he was grinning. As she watched, he put two fingers to his mouth and whistled.

A small wolf pup who’d been nosing around in the long grass popped up his head, ears pricked. Delight emanated from him, but he didn’t race over. Instead, he glanced to his left.

“Oh, my goodness.” Memory raised a hand to her mouth as an even tinier wolf pup tried to poke her nose up out of the grass. She was too little to truly succeed, but her delight in spotting them was as innocent and shining a joy as his.

She began to run over—more enthusiasm than coordination.

The bigger pup ran beside her, holding himself back to her slow pace. Loyalty, love, protectiveness, exasperation, his emotions were so clearly of a big brother that Memory laughed a little, her heart so full it could burst. The tiny pup, her sides heaving, flopped down to rest on reaching them, while the other one bounced up on Alexei’s boots, his paws small and perfect, and growled up in what appeared to be a hello.

Memory’s hands itched to pick up the little one, but she held back, not sure if it was allowed, or if a stranger’s touch would scare the tiny girl-wolf. She knew the tiny one was a girl the same way she knew the other was a boy. It was in their emotional scent, both very certain of their sense of self already.

“Hello, Ben,” Alexei growled back before crouching down to pick up the tiny ball of brown fluff that was Ben’s sister. “I see you’ve escaped school again.” He nuzzled the ecstatic pup in his arms. “Did you break Elodie out of the nursery?”

Ben gave a tiny, happy howl, then ran around them both before stopping to stare up at Memory with eyes of pale, pale amber. As Memory’s heart thundered at the wonder of being so close to such a small wild creature, the pup angled his head sideways, then back to center, and took a sniff of her.

When he reared back, her heart fell.

The pup was shatters of light without warning, and a naked little boy with hair of deep mahogany, his skin gilded by the sun and his eyes brown, was looking up at her with a scrunched-up nose.

“You smell like Lexie,” he declared.

“I’m his mate,” she whispered, just as light shattered in her peripheral vision.

A gorgeous girl who couldn’t yet be two sat in Alexei’s arms. Her hair was as dark as her brother’s, but fell in big fat curls where his was silky straight. She also hadn’t tanned as much, her skin creamy with rosy patches on the cheeks.

Her eyes danced with unhidden glee. “Curwy!” She held up a hunk of her own hair, then pointed at Memory’s.

Cheeks aching from the depth of her smile, Memory nodded. “We’re both curly girls.”

Laughing, Ben’s sister held out her arms.

Memory’s heart thudded. “Alexei?”

“Elodie here doesn’t bite anymore, do you?” He nipped playfully at the tip of the pup’s nose, sending Elodie giggling, then glanced up at Memory, his eyes telling her she didn’t have to question herself; she was worthy of this precious trust.

Memory opened her arms and Alexei passed Elodie over—who settled onto her hip with the practiced ease of a child who expected affection, expected love. Neither child had any shame about their nudity—wild creatures at home in their skin.

“No pulling her hair, Dee,” Ben instructed his sister sternly.

When Elodie stuck out her tongue at him and laughed, Ben slapped a hand to his forehead. “I can’t take her anywhere.”

Memory’s poor heart was mush by now. Then Ben took her free hand, his own soft and warm, and she just melted. No matter what anyone else in the pack said to her, this joyful welcome would carry her through.

“You smell weird, too,” Ben said conversationally as the four of them began to walk across the clearing. “Under the Lexie smell.”

“Bad smelly!” Elodie echoed after a sniff . . . but she kept her arms wrapped around Memory’s neck.

Memory took her cue from the pups’ open and friendly demeanor. “It’s from my work,” she said. “It makes me smell weird sometimes.” This was also why she hadn’t canceled her session with Amara—better she know now how the wolves would react.

Alexei had said they’d shrug it off as no big deal, but he was her mate. He loved her. She couldn’t forget how the other Es—such kind, gentle people who’d never hurt her on purpose—had reacted.

“Like after I fell into stinky mud,” Ben commented, while a small hand patted Memory’s curls with gentle curiosity. “Mama made me have a bath and it was better.”

Chest aching at the simple acceptance, she was about to reply when Elodie twisted out of her arms in such a sharp movement that she couldn’t hold the little girl in place.

A cry left her lips, but Elodie didn’t fall, shifting mid-jump into her wolf-pup form.

When she glanced back at Memory, it was with pride in every line of her tiny furred body. Memory’s heart, in contrast, was racing double-time.

“Dee! You can jump-shift!” Ben did a little dance before throwing back his head to emit a small howl.

Memory jumped when he was answered by a far stronger howl from next to Memory—and then the sound was taken up all around them from wolves she couldn’t see, the wild song carrying across the mountains.

The tiny hairs on her arms stood up, the haunting beauty of wolf song rippling in her blood. When her own wolf nipped playfully at her ear, she shivered and slipped her free hand into his. The three of them followed the tiny pup to what turned out to be a door hidden in the side of the mountain.

Beyond that door lay a stone corridor painted with scenes of wolves in the wild. The detail in the paintings was so exquisite that she knew she’d come here again and again, her brain absorbing it a piece at a time. But first she had to set foot inside the den. Her mouth grew dry, her skin hot.

Putting his lips to her ear, Alexei told her she’d already been authorized to enter and exit as she wished. “This door’s hardly ever locked anyway.” A growly kiss that made her feel at home. “Only ones who’ve ever breached the den are the cats, and they’re allies now.” She wanted to laugh at his pretend-scowl. “If the worst ever happens, we have ways to evacuate our vulnerable from deep inside the den, while the dominants fight on the front line.”

Memory trusted Alexei with her life, but she still had to clench her stomach to step inside; her abdominal muscles hurt from the tension.

“We can live outside,” Alexei rumbled. “My den is set up pretty much the same, but—”

“No.” Memory gripped her fear in an unforgiving fist. “I want to be part of a family, live in a big puppy pile.” A place where small pups might run up to her at any moment expecting a cuddle, and where passing packmates would wave hello.

Like the tall redhead currently heading toward them, her walk fluid and unmistakably feline. “Congratulations,” Mercy said, a wicked glint in her eye. “Guess the wolf food fetish paid off.”

Memory felt a giggle form in her throat. “I’m going to frame that Wild Woman column.”

Mercy winked, her grin wide.

Alexei, meanwhile, was sending the two of them a distinctly suspicious look. “Are you two friends? How did you end up friends with a cat? Have I taught you nothing?”

“I’m a lioness,” she reminded him. “Which means you’re mated to a cat.”

“Dear God.”

Ignoring his aghast words, Mercy kissed him on the cheek, then did the same to Memory. “I can’t wait to dance at your mating ceremony.”

“She smells bad because of her work,” piped up a small voice from beside Memory, while Elodie ran back to stand between Alexei’s booted feet, annoyed at missing out on the fun.