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