Allegiance of Honor (Psy-Changeling #15) - Nalini Singh Page 0,15

to sneak up to or under Lantia did so with full knowledge of what they risked.

“We have so many of our young here,” she added.

“Protected by over a thousand of our strongest,” Malachai reminded her. “You’re making bad decisions because of anger and tiredness. Go.”

Miane was the First here—alpha in terrestrial changeling terms—but she knew full well Malachai wouldn’t hesitate to throw her bodily into the ocean. Not that he’d succeed. Or survive. Still, the fact that one of her blood-loyal seconds had threatened that, even if by implication, was reason enough to pay attention. “Keep them safe,” she ordered, and, swiveling on her heel, headed to the far edge of the city.

She could’ve gone into the water at various other points on Lantia—the entire city was built to ensure easy access to the ocean—but it was important her people see her, see that she was present and strong and in control.

Especially now.

When she stripped and dived beneath the waves, the salt a familiar taste and the cold slide of the sea over her skin a welcoming kiss, several more bodies slipped in with her. They shifted in the water, sleek and fast and built for the ocean.

This was their home. They would defend it to the death.

And they would find their missing. Every. Single. One.

Chapter 4

“I WANT TO kill the Consortium,” Mercy muttered after reading the e-mail Lucas had sent out to all the sentinels about the kidnapped BlackSea changeling. “Chop them into little bits and throw them into that canyon we visited in Arizona.”

“The falcons might object to all that rancid meat in their territory,” her mate said mildly from where he stood beside her, reading a message from his own alpha.

“Hmm.” Mercy placed her phone on the nearest flat surface, then leaned back against the porch railing of her old cabin.

Given her need to be closer to the DarkRiver healer with the pregnancy this far advanced, she and Riley had made the decision to move down from their usual home a week earlier. They’d requested any open cabin on DarkRiver lands, but the packmate currently living in Mercy’s old cabin had cheerfully offered it to them for the duration.

All Rina had asked was that they spill the beans on the number and sex—or sexes—of the pupcubs so she could win the betting pool. When Mercy had threatened to shoot the young soldier instead, Rina had laughed and taken off—but not without hugging Mercy first with the wild affection of a packmate who knew her touch would never be rejected.

The memory had her smiling as she said, “Rancid meat is pretty bad. And the falcons are our allies.” Though unlike with the wolves, the DarkRiver-WindHaven alliance was still a work in progress, not in the first stages, but not far past, either.

“I know.” She snapped her fingers. “I can dump the pieces on SnowDancer land. Wolves have no sense of taste so no one will notice.”

Her gorgeous wolf mate growled at her.

Laughing, she ran her fingers through the thick chestnut silk of his hair. He was leaning forward over the railing, eyes on his phone, while she leaned back against it. “Hawke?”

Riley nodded, shifting slightly so that she could pet him more easily, those incongruously pretty lashes of his beautifully visible in this position. “He’s called a lieutenant meeting at five today. We’ll probably be discussing the BlackSea situation.” Sliding away his phone, he rose to his full height, a broad-shouldered man with chocolate-dark eyes that looked at her as if she was his everything.

Woman and leopard, every part of Mercy adored him.

Nuzzling at her, making her smile, Riley placed his hand over her belly. “How are you feeling?”

Heart mush because her mate was petting her, she said, “Like I’ve been pregnant forever.” According to her three hooligan brothers, it was closer to twenty-seven months. According to the SnowDancer and DarkRiver healers, it was just past eight months.

Looking down at her belly, Riley’s right hand strong and warm on the curve of it, while he used his left hand to massage her nape, she spoke to their pupcubs in her best “behave” tone. A tone she and the hooligans had heard often from their own mother during childhood. “You’re meant to come out early,” she said to the babies she already loved beyond life. “Multiple births always come early.” Likely so the mother wouldn’t burst or tumble headfirst right onto her belly.

Riley nibbled at her ear.

Purring, she snuck her hand under his shirt to play her fingers over