* * *

• • •

ALEXEI knew that. He’d been ignoring it for years.

Grinding his jaw, he squeezed the steering wheel even harder. “I don’t want to know what she might tell me.” A confession he could make only because Memory was his mate, his lioness who loved him without boundaries. “As long as I don’t know, I can have hope.”

Keelie Schaeffer had apparently managed to track down the records of over a hundred rogues across three generations and had come up with multiple commonalities among all of them. If anyone could predict who would go rogue, it would be her.

Memory put her hand on his thigh as she leaned across the seat. “You tell me to trust my instincts and abilities. Now, my wolf, I’m asking you to trust them.” Obsidian eyes full of stubborn conviction. “I know you don’t have it in you to go rogue.”

She spread her hand over his heart. “I know, Alexei. I feel your connections with your family, your pack, your friends. You might try to keep your distance, but you always fail. Your life is full of those you love, who love you, while rogues inevitably shut out the world.”

Alexei dropped his head back against the seat. “Brodie didn’t come to my birthday party.” It had been thrown by the senior soldiers in his den, a laid-back event involving pizza and beer—and a huge-ass chocolate cake.

When Alexei didn’t see Brodie, he’d asked a friend if they’d told his brother.

“Yeah, of course,” had been the answer. “He’s probably running late. I bet he gets here in time for the cake.”

But Brodie hadn’t come at all. Worried something was wrong, Alexei had tracked him down. “He’d forgotten birthdays, other events before, was nearly late to his own mating ceremony.” If Alexei hadn’t dragged him out of bed after a drunken party with friends the night before, Brodie would’ve been lucky to survive Etta’s wrath.

“But then, he’d laugh and cop to flaking, and we’d share a beer and it was all good. I never expected Brodie to be anyone but who he was.” Not always reliable, but always loyal. “That day, however . . . the way he looked at me, it was so flat and emotionless.”

“The one thing your brother had never been.”

“Looking back, that’s the day I’d pick out as the critical turning point, but back then, I was just hurt.” He blew out a harsh breath. “Stupid, huh? I was a lieutenant and I was hurt by my brother not bothering to say happy birthday.”

“No,” Memory murmured. “You were a lieutenant, but you were also Brodie’s younger brother. He was your big brother. It mattered.”

Alexei wove his fingers through hers, his wolf brushing up against the inside of his skin. “I miss them, Memory. Every fucking day.” His eyes burned with all the tears he’d never allowed himself to shed. “I miss how much Brodie loved Etta. I miss how she’d giggle and kiss him. I miss her sweet smile when she’d come by with cookies just because. I miss her out-of-nowhere hug attacks.”

It was getting hard to talk, but the words kept tumbling out. “I miss his lunatic, infectious laugh. I miss knowing I could turn up at his door day or night and he’d haul me inside. I miss hearing about his latest death-defying stunt. I just . . . I miss my big brother and the woman he loved beyond life.” He swallowed again and again.

Maneuvering her way over to his seat, Memory straddled his body, then wrapped her arms around his neck. Locking his own arms around her, Alexei buried his face against her neck. Then, for the first time since his brother had been lost to him forever, he cried.

* * *

• • •

MEMORY’S heart was breaking, but she knew Alexei had to get this out, this horrible pain he’d kept inside for far too long. She cried with him, and then she just held him. They sat there locked together for a long time after he went quiet, while she murmured sweet, soft words to him, rubbed her cheek against his, and stroked her fingers through his hair.

Along the bond, she sent all her love, speaking to the wolf as much as the man.

Alexei let her pet him, and when he leaned back, he cradled her jaw and took a kiss that tasted of salt and of Alexei. Afterward, he got out and used a bottle of water to wash off his face, while she used a damp tissue to wipe off the remnants of her own tears.

Drying his face on the bottom of his T-shirt, Alexei got back in the passenger seat and started up the truck. “Let’s go see Dr. Schaeffer.”

Five minutes later, they came to a stop in front of the Schaeffer house, deep in DarkRiver territory. They didn’t have an appointment, but Memory had asked around and knew the doctor was working from her home office today.

A slender woman with thick hair that held tones from ash to gold, and whiskey-colored eyes, opened the door before they got to it. “I thought I scented a wolf,” she said with a gentle smile that held not even a pretense of leopard-wolf antagonism. “Alexei, isn’t it? And you must be Memory.”

Alexei shook Keelie Schaeffer’s hand, while Memory returned the older woman’s genuine hug. As the three of them walked in, an unsmiling Alexei said, “I need to know if I have the indicators for going rogue.”

Keelie Schaeffer took the abrupt comment in stride. “I was hoping you’d come to me when you were ready.” She waved them into a large office dominated by an old and battered wooden desk set by a huge window that brought the forest inside. Family photos played across the computer screen—and the current one included a face Memory knew: the rough-edged DarkRiver soldier with wide shoulders who’d met them at Vashti’s house.

Oh, of course. He’d had the same striking eyes as Dr. Schaeffer.

That familial link wasn’t visible in the photo. Wearing a checked shirt, his jaw dark with stubble and his sleeves shoved up, the leopard male stood looking down at a tiny baby cradled in one arm—a baby who was staring up at him in equal fascination. One day, that’d be Alexei, she whispered inside her mind. A big, tough changeling holding their baby with protectiveness, tenderness.

Below the screen, a black cat napped on the doctor’s touch keyboard. The projected letters and numbers glowed on its silky fur.

“Midnight’s favorite spot,” the doctor said with a laugh before picking up her pet and dropping him to the floor after a stroke. Midnight’s expression displayed disgruntled affront at being so summarily impeached from his spot.

Memory smiled when the imperious cat came to wind himself through her legs. Jitterbug had done the same while she was on her feet. She bent and held out her fingers for the cat to sniff. After a thoughtful pause, he decided she was an acceptable individual and reached up to place his paws on her shins. She gathered him up in her arms and began to pet him while Alexei stood rigid beside her.

“Please sit.” Keelie Schaeffer indicated a U-shaped seating area beside her computer station. When Alexei went to refuse, Memory shot him a look. He scowled at her, but followed her onto a sofa, while Keelie Schaeffer sat across from them in her computer chair. Midnight immediately sprawled over Memory’s lap, a liquid creature.

Able to sense the coiled tension in Alexei, his wolf a growl at the back of his throat she could almost hear, Memory wove her fingers with his again.

Emotions turbulent, he accepted the touch—and the loving affection she sent him through the mating bond. “Do you need to do a blood test?” he asked Dr. Schaeffer.

“No, my research isn’t focused on DNA.” The doctor brought up a document on her computer. “It’s a psychological profile validated by blind tests set up by colleagues—my task was to predict which profiles were of rogues. The paper hasn’t been published yet, but my success rate in separating rogues from non-rogues was one hundred percent.”

She leaned back in her chair. “The problem arises when I look at those who have the markers for going rogue, but haven’t yet done so—only a minuscule minority of possibles ever actually go rogue.”

Alexei tapped their clasped hands on his thigh. “You’re saying all rogues share certain traits?”

“Every single one I’ve studied, and I threw a wide net.” The doctor picked up a pad of paper and a pen. “Consider this a representation of every changeling in the world.” She drew a large circle. “Now these are the people with the indicators.” A much smaller circle within. “And these are the rogues.” A dot within the smaller circle.

Memory knew why the doctor was belaboring this point—she wanted Alexei to know that even if he had the markers, that didn’t mean he would ever go rogue. Memory also knew Alexei wouldn’t see it that way. But while she might be an atypical E, she was an E, and she sensed no hint of instability in Alexei. She wouldn’t have brought him here if she hadn’t already been certain of the answers.

“I want to know, whatever the answer.” Primal energy along their bond, Alexei’s wolf brushing up against her. “Let’s do it.”

The interview took two hours. Afterward, Keelie Schaeffer asked Alexei if he’d be willing to talk about his brother. Alexei’s skin pulled tight over his cheekbones, but he gave a curt nod. Though Memory listened with care, she couldn’t see what it was Keelie Schaeffer was looking for in the brothers’ profiles.

The doctor included a number of questions about their father, too, but Alexei had limited information on the man who’d died while he was only seven years of age.

At some point, Memory rose to make sandwiches and coffee.

Midnight supervised.

Darkness had fallen outside, the trees whispering under moonlight. Dr. Schaeffer’s mate was working late leading a training session on strategy for senior soldiers, so it was only the three of them—and Midnight—in the house. Memory was glad of that; she knew in her gut that Alexei wouldn’t have been as open with another male in the area, especially when that male was a DarkRiver soldier.

He hadn’t remained seated for long, prowling the room while answering the doctor’s questions. Midnight had paced with him for a while before curling up on the sofa to nap again.