soul. “Please give him DarkRiver’s best wishes. We will always be in his debt.” Without Zie Zen, Ashaya would’ve never escaped the Psy Council’s clutches, and without Ashaya, Dorian might still be furiously angry at the world, his leopard trapped in a clawing scream inside his body.
That, however, was simply the most obvious example of how Zie Zen had influenced the pack in a positive way. Lucas knew the Psy elder had his fingers in many other pies and, like Nikita, he protected those who were his own. In this case, that included DarkRiver, since Keenan and Ashaya called the pack home.
“I will,” Vasic promised before teleporting out.
Alone, Lucas turned to his desk and slid his computer screen back into the body of his desk. He’d only arrived home at close to one this afternoon, wouldn’t have minded a few hours’ rest, but he’d come into the office instead so people could see he was in the territory. Once here, he’d spent the time wisely and cleared a backlog of tasks that fell to him as the head of DarkRiver’s business enterprises. Not everything, however—that would take another three hours at least.
Walking out to where his admin sat at her own desk, he said, “You going to shoot me if I head out?” He could finish up tomorrow morning, but he needed to know if there was something urgent he’d overlooked.
Ria rolled her eyes. “Like I could stop you.”
Grinning, Lucas tapped her on the nose. “We all know you’re the boss of this office.” Ria might be human but she was one of the strongest members of the pack, her status in the hierarchy that of a senior maternal dominant.
Now, her scowl was thunderous. “Tap me on the nose again like I’m a cub and I’ll break your hand.”
“Boss of the office,” he reiterated before ducking back inside his own space to grab his leather-synth jacket. He’d borrowed Vaughn’s jetcycle, and at those speeds, even a panther felt the chill. Shrugging into the jacket, he walked back out to Ria. “I heard Mialin caught a cold.”
Her face softened. “Only a sniffle. Emmett’s got her with him today.” Eyebrows drawing suddenly together over the silky brown of her eyes, she said, “How do you even know that? She just developed it this morning.”
“You might be the boss of the office,” he said as he zipped up the jacket, “but I’m the alpha of DarkRiver.” Every packmate was his responsibility, especially the littlest of them all. “Tamsyn had a look at her?”
Nodding, Ria got up to give him an unexpected hug, the scent of her small, curvy body deeply familiar to his panther. “You’re a good alpha, Luc.”
The out-of-the-blue words hit him hard after what he’d seen in SkyElm.
He wrapped his arms around her, held her close. “Thanks, Ri-ri.”
Elbowing him for using her endearing family nickname, she released him to go over to one corner of the office. “Don’t forget your helmet or Sascha will brain you.”
Lucas accepted the gleaming black thing. “I’ll be at Dorian’s, then home if you need me.”
His light mood only lasted until he hit the road out of town, his face turning grim inside the helmet. Because he wasn’t just swinging by to see how Dorian was healing. The sentinel might be off active duty, but he remained one of Lucas’s most trusted people. And as of last night, he had a new task: to find the ship that had been meant to take Lucas and Sascha’s cub from San Francisco to Australia.
PART 3
Chapter 27
ZIE ZEN SAT in a chair outside Ivy and Vasic’s home, his left hand on his cane, and listened to a young brown-haired boy play under the fiery light of the setting sun. Tavish was laughing more and more as the days passed, and today as he chased a small white dog through the orchard, he hadn’t stopped. The sound was joyous music.
Sunny, I wish you were here to see this.
The only woman he had ever loved had wanted hope for their people, wanted joy. Instead, she’d been worn away by their need until her heart no longer beat, until there was no strength in her to breathe. His sweet, gentle Sunny. An empath during the time when the PsyNet turned against empaths, when it wanted only cold Silence. That choice had killed her, and in so doing, killed the best part of him, too.
“Grandfather.” Another empathic voice, sweet and hopeful and with a generous warmth that sank into his aching bones. “You’re