the cardinal—whose face was obscured by the way the blanket had bunched there—Arwen walked into the bedroom, his stride as fluid as Silver’s. That they weren’t changeling was clear, but Mercants had a deadly grace about them.
When Arwen exited, he went to stare down at the cardinal. “Shit, it really is Payal Rao,” he said, his breath hitching in his throat and his voice an octave higher than normal. “She’s in Canto’s house, asleep.”
Blinking rapidly, he reached down to undo his suit jacket, then put his hands on his hips, pushing the jacket back as he did so—to reveal a black leather belt initialed with a discreet designer logo. “Canto and Payal Rao.” He sounded as agog as many people did when they said Valentin Nikolaev and Silver Mercant.
A shake of his head. “I told Silver to leave it be, but it was all theoretical then.”
“Come here before you hyperventilate.” Pavel dragged him out onto the deck.
Arwen came but he was still muttering. “Grandmother must know. Canto wouldn’t go behind her back.”
“Your grandmother knows everything.” Swinging his arm around the other man’s shoulders, Pavel drew him out to the railing. “And Canto will kick your ass if you interfere.”
Arwen looked mutinous for a second before wincing. “You’re right.”
“So, you consider my invite?” Because their relationship? It wasn’t settled like Silver and Valentin’s or Chaos and Nova’s. The two of them had been playing this game of back and forth for months.
“Aren’t you frustrated?” Yakov had asked him the other day.
Pavel’s answer had been easy. “No. He’s an E who’s been in hiding all his life. Not from his family, but from the rest of the world. This is the first time he’s been free to be himself. He needs to do that first before he can come to me.”
“If he decides he doesn’t want that? To come to you?”
“Why are you so mean? What did I ever do to you?”
“Kick me in the womb.”
“Mudak,” Pavel had muttered, but hadn’t pounced on his twin for a fight that let their bears out. “If he doesn’t want me after, I have to let him go. That’s who we are. StoneWater bears court our lovers. We might occasionally try to kidnap them, but we don’t force.”
Long, elegant fingers with nails buffed and squared stroked his jaw. “What’s the matter, Pasha bear?” Arwen murmured, looking at him with those empathic eyes that saw too much.
Pasha bear.
If Yakov ever heard that, he’d die laughing, then come back from the grave to laugh some more. But Pavel melted. “Big bear thoughts,” he said with a grin, because he wouldn’t put that pressure on Arwen.
His E had to come to him on his own terms.
“Tell me about this Payal Rao,” he said. “She sounds like your sister.”
An immediate scowl, the gentle touch gone. “Silver is not like Payal.” Arwen folded his arms. “From what I know, she’s ruthless and calculated and doesn’t care about anything but power.”
Pavel’s lips twitched. “Moy luchik, do you think Silver is a fluffy kitten?”
Growling low in his throat—and yes, Pavel was proud of having taught him that—Arwen turned and leaned on the balcony railing. “Silver is loyal to family. She’d die to protect us. Payal, as far as I know, has no deep family connections.”
“Her fault?”
Arwen took a moment before shrugging. “I don’t know. It’s not my job in the family to keep track of stuff like that.” He sighed. “I have to apologize to Silver for being so smug—I can’t stop worrying, either, now that it’s real. She’s so dangerous, Pasha.”
Shifting to lean on the railing beside him, but facing the house, Pavel said, “Canto can take care of himself, you know. Man’s a cardinal and as tough as any bear.” He watched the wind riffle its fingers through Arwen’s hair, and his fingers itched to do the same.
Later, he promised himself.
“You don’t understand.” Arwen’s fingers tightened on the railing. “Canto’s about to hit thirty-nine, and the only people he’s ever trusted are family—and family adjacent, like you.” Shoulders tense, he stood to his full height. “I just … I don’t know if he understands the power of emotion. I don’t know if he understands that it can be used to manipulate.”
“I gotta disagree, Arwen. Canto’s about as un-Psy a Psy I’ve ever met.” Grumpy, open, generous. “I say you should worry about Payal. Is she good at emotions?”
Arwen hesitated, then reached over to pull Pavel’s phone out of his back jeans pocket and did a search. They both watched the