without the shower, he stripped, then picked up his suspiciously sweet-smelling towel and sniffed at it. Fuck it, he was going to smell like roses. Wolf and man resigned to the ignominy, he rubbed vigorously, until his skin was pleasantly warm from the friction and his hair damp but not wet.
At least none of his pack were here to rag him about his floral bouquet. Brodie would’ve—
His stomach tightened, his heart a stone in his chest.
Hauling the door to the substation open after unlocking it, he stepped outside, shut the door behind him, then threw back his head and howled up at the thunderous black sky. The sound was whipped away by the wind and the rain, his throat raw in the aftermath. But the pain and anger, it was bearable again.
He could think of his big brother again without wanting to break the world. “Fuck you, Brodie.” His chest hurt, his claws stabbing at his skin. “Fuck you.”
This time, he heard no echo of yesterday, no laughter from a ghost. Just the rain and the thunder as lightning cracked the sky.
Chapter 4
Abstract: A study of changeling rogues. Prevalent only in the predatory changeling population. Not subject to any academic study or paper since Dr. Menet’s Rogue Genetics (1989). Shame, fear, grief, are all part of the reason for changeling reticence on this subject.
—Changeling Rogues: Broken Minds & Broken Families by Keelie Schaeffer, PhD (Work in Progress)
BACK INSIDE THE substation, Alexei dried off a second time, then pulled on a pair of black sweatpants and a gray T-shirt that hugged his pecs and biceps. He wasn’t the biggest male in SnowDancer, but he was muscled enough through the shoulders and chest that this had been the best option in the trunk. He’d have to let the supply team know clothes were running low for the larger sizes—should Matthias come up here while he was visiting the main den, he’d be shit out of luck.
Alexei’s friend and fellow lieutenant was built like a tank.
The ordinary thoughts, the ordinary business of being part of a thriving pack, it steadied him. He could never forget that Brodie was dead, had been executed, but he could function again as a SnowDancer lieutenant, as Alexei. Not the Alexei he’d once been, but the man he’d salvaged out of the ashes of his brother’s betrayal.
He didn’t feel the need for a sweatshirt. The substation was kept at a comfortable temperature for his changeling body. Picking up his wet gear and the towel, he placed them in a neat pile outside the bathroom. There had to be a container inside in which he could carry dirty laundry down to the den.
Because he’d learned that lesson a lifetime ago.
His lips kicked up at the unexpected memory.
Aunt Min had blistered both his and Brodie’s ears when, as teens, they’d begun to drop towels on the floor. “Do I look like your maid?” Crossed arms, her booted foot tapping on the floor. “I’ll answer for you—no, I do not. I look like a goddamn SnowDancer soldier who will boot you up the backside if I come home to this mess again.”
Harsh words, but Aunt Min’s discipline had always been meted out with a ferocious love that engulfed them and kept even Brodie from going off the rails—Alexei’s brother had taken up doing dangerous hoverboard stunts and raced dirt bikes on deadly trails, but when he fell, he called their aunt.
Shaking his head at the memory of the time Brodie had broken his leg after taking a dare from a friend to dive into a treacherous waterfall—the idiot had grinned about winning the dare even though his femur was sticking out of his skin—Alexei went back to the front door and input multiple security codes.
His E with a temper could continue to come and go at will, but the system would now send an alert to his phone if the door was opened without his authorization. Alexei wasn’t certain the little lioness was functioning on all cylinders right now. He’d found her in a prison meant for the long term. He’d also seen items of clothing in her closet that had been ragged with age and use, but too small for her petite body. As if she’d grown out of them.
His jaw knotted.
Being imprisoned in a place with no natural light, her only companion a cat, what had it done to her? That she was functional on any level was a fucking miracle—and that she had the strength to feel anger?
He