Silver Silence
Page 81
What?
He froze in place.
Silver’s frost and fire was missing inside him, but he didn’t feel empty. He should. He poked at the wound. Blya, it hurt! But he wasn’t numb, wasn’t lost. He poked again, just to be sure. “Fuck!”
Sulking at the pain because it meant his mate wasn’t with him, he sat there in the fallen leaves and tried to make sense of something that didn’t make sense. Changelings who lost their mates through death or other causes, yet managed to hold on to life, were faded shadows of themselves. Valentin’s mother wasn’t whole even after all these years. She functioned, but that was it.
In contrast, Valentin was so angry and in pain and missing Silver as if he’d lost a limb, but he wasn’t fundamentally broken. His bear wasn’t anywhere close to insane. In fact, that bear was decidedly grumpy . . . but it remained firmly convinced that Silver was its mate.
That puppyish hope sat up again, wagging its stubby tail. If the mate bond wasn’t broken, then Silver couldn’t be totally Silent, no matter what everyone believed. They’d said it themselves—the brain was a complicated organ.
Valentin scowled at the puppy. He was a damn alpha bear; he wasn’t a puppy. “Zatknis’!” But the stupid thing wouldn’t shut up. “Yip, yip, yip!” It danced inside his heart. Getting up off his knees because it was annoying him, he threw back his head and made a loud sound that caused the smaller creatures in the forest to go motionless.
That shut the puppy up—for about a minute.
Then . . . “yip.”
“Grr!” Giving up, he found his phone, which he’d managed not to mangle—Silver might call him on it—and contacted Arwen.
Silver’s brother had given Valentin his code before the operation, saying, “You love my sister. You’ll hurt when she’s Silent. Call me if you wish to talk.”
Valentin had the feeling the other man was the one who needed to talk. Right now, Valentin wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone except his mate, but he needed this question answered. “Arwen,” he said without explanation when Silver’s brother accepted the call. “Can you still sense my bond with Silver?” Silver had told him she’d hidden it to protect it from curious eyes, but that Arwen, connected to her in the Honeycomb, could “see” it through his empathy.
“No.” The empath’s voice was carefully gentle. “It’s gone.”
No. It wasn’t.
“It’s there.” Valentin set his feet apart, prepared to become an immovable wall. “I don’t know how, but it’s there.”
“I wish I could say it was, because that would mean my sister was whole and herself, but it’s not, Alpha Nikolaev.”
Valentin’s scowl grew deeper. “The audio telepathy? It’s definitely dead?” That mattered more than his hope or Arwen’s need.
“Oh, yes.” Arwen’s voice dropped. “My sister is . . . different, more Silent than the Silent. More Silent than I’ve ever known her to be.” A long pause, the next words shaky. “I miss her.”
So did Valentin. Every second, every minute, every hour. “You doing okay?”
“Yes.”
“Stop lying. You’re hurting.” Bruised though it was, Valentin’s alpha heart responded to the pain of a man who was now part of his family. “You know I won’t betray you. Silver loves you. I’ll protect you for that alone.”
A shuddering breath. “Yes, I’m hurting.” The answer was fractured. “I’m trying to contain it for my grandmother’s sake, but it feels as if I’ve lost part of myself. Grandmother is as strong as always, but— I shouldn’t be speaking of family matters with you.”
“You know I’m family, Arwen.” No matter what, his soul was linked forever to Silver’s. “Ena having a tough time?”
“Tougher than I expected. I thought she’d appreciate Silver’s perfect Silence, but . . . she’s sad that Silver’s lost part of herself. Grandmother would never describe it as sadness, but I know it’s there, like I’ve always known she would fight to the death to protect me and Silver.”
“I’ll talk to her.”
“Grandmother isn’t likely to appreciate it,” Arwen said, his tone distinctly dubious.
“Don’t worry, Arwen. I have a way with tough Mercant women.” Hanging up to a strangled sound from the other man, Valentin headed to Denhome.
Sergey was the first person he saw. The other man gave him a stiff nod, followed by a scowl. “It’s not my business, Valya, but where’s your mate? Did you make her angry enough to leave you already?”
Had the question been asked in aggression, Valentin would’ve given him a response no one would’ve ever forgotten. But Sergey had spoken with unusual hesitation, with worry from a senior member of the clan to his alpha.
Valentin clamped him on the shoulder. “She’s as dangerous as a bear when she’s riled.” The clan would understand a pissed-off mate. “I’m working on it.”
A laughing grin. “In that case, I wish you well. I once had to chase my mate halfway across Siberia so I could beg her forgiveness. Worth the frozen balls.”
• • •
TWO hours later, when Valentin got into the car to drive to the hotel where Ena was staying in Moscow, he wished this was as easy as Silver being angry with him.
Courting her the first time around wasn’t exactly easy, he reminded himself.
He was an alpha bear.
He had balls big enough to handle rejection.
Even as he grinned, even as his bear postured inside him, his heart ached. Because he, more than anyone, knew that sometimes, love wasn’t enough.
Sometimes, people changed so deeply that the change broke love itself.
PART 2
The Human Alpha
BO WAS RUNNING late for the early morning meeting with Krychek. The Psy telekinetic had messaged him only minutes earlier to ask if they could talk at a nearby building where he had another meeting; he’d asked Bo to bring Lily along, as he wanted to discuss a forthcoming Ruling Coalition media announcement.
Bo had tried to call him to see if they could reschedule for a little later in the day, but it had gone straight to voice mail. Given the importance of what Krychek probably wanted to discuss, he’d sent through a message that he was on his way. Halfway there, he got a confirmation message from the telekinetic: In meeting. Will be done by the time you arrive. I appreciate your time.
Odd that Krychek hadn’t just teleported to him, but perhaps the other man was trying to be extra polite. Bo snorted. Yeah, right. Likely Krychek was trying to tread softly in an effort to keep Bowen and the humans of the Alliance talking.
Sliding away his paper-thin but highly resilient phone that had survived water, fire, small children, and dogs, he smiled at spotting his sister. Lily had been meant to come in late to the office today, had been in the opposite part of the city from him, so they’d agreed to meet midway.
She was standing on the bridge where they’d arranged to connect, but instead of her usual serene sweetness, she was leaning over the side of the bridge and having an enthusiastic conversation with the gondolier below. The two had to shout to be heard over the music of a busker on this side of the canal, so he could hear her voice, though not what she was saying.
Whatever it was, it had her laughing before she waved good-bye to the gondolier; the man poled away to pick up a couple of excited tourists. “Flirting with Piero?” he teased on reaching her. “What will your tattooed doctor say?”
He froze in place.
Silver’s frost and fire was missing inside him, but he didn’t feel empty. He should. He poked at the wound. Blya, it hurt! But he wasn’t numb, wasn’t lost. He poked again, just to be sure. “Fuck!”
Sulking at the pain because it meant his mate wasn’t with him, he sat there in the fallen leaves and tried to make sense of something that didn’t make sense. Changelings who lost their mates through death or other causes, yet managed to hold on to life, were faded shadows of themselves. Valentin’s mother wasn’t whole even after all these years. She functioned, but that was it.
In contrast, Valentin was so angry and in pain and missing Silver as if he’d lost a limb, but he wasn’t fundamentally broken. His bear wasn’t anywhere close to insane. In fact, that bear was decidedly grumpy . . . but it remained firmly convinced that Silver was its mate.
That puppyish hope sat up again, wagging its stubby tail. If the mate bond wasn’t broken, then Silver couldn’t be totally Silent, no matter what everyone believed. They’d said it themselves—the brain was a complicated organ.
Valentin scowled at the puppy. He was a damn alpha bear; he wasn’t a puppy. “Zatknis’!” But the stupid thing wouldn’t shut up. “Yip, yip, yip!” It danced inside his heart. Getting up off his knees because it was annoying him, he threw back his head and made a loud sound that caused the smaller creatures in the forest to go motionless.
That shut the puppy up—for about a minute.
Then . . . “yip.”
“Grr!” Giving up, he found his phone, which he’d managed not to mangle—Silver might call him on it—and contacted Arwen.
Silver’s brother had given Valentin his code before the operation, saying, “You love my sister. You’ll hurt when she’s Silent. Call me if you wish to talk.”
Valentin had the feeling the other man was the one who needed to talk. Right now, Valentin wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone except his mate, but he needed this question answered. “Arwen,” he said without explanation when Silver’s brother accepted the call. “Can you still sense my bond with Silver?” Silver had told him she’d hidden it to protect it from curious eyes, but that Arwen, connected to her in the Honeycomb, could “see” it through his empathy.
“No.” The empath’s voice was carefully gentle. “It’s gone.”
No. It wasn’t.
“It’s there.” Valentin set his feet apart, prepared to become an immovable wall. “I don’t know how, but it’s there.”
“I wish I could say it was, because that would mean my sister was whole and herself, but it’s not, Alpha Nikolaev.”
Valentin’s scowl grew deeper. “The audio telepathy? It’s definitely dead?” That mattered more than his hope or Arwen’s need.
“Oh, yes.” Arwen’s voice dropped. “My sister is . . . different, more Silent than the Silent. More Silent than I’ve ever known her to be.” A long pause, the next words shaky. “I miss her.”
So did Valentin. Every second, every minute, every hour. “You doing okay?”
“Yes.”
“Stop lying. You’re hurting.” Bruised though it was, Valentin’s alpha heart responded to the pain of a man who was now part of his family. “You know I won’t betray you. Silver loves you. I’ll protect you for that alone.”
A shuddering breath. “Yes, I’m hurting.” The answer was fractured. “I’m trying to contain it for my grandmother’s sake, but it feels as if I’ve lost part of myself. Grandmother is as strong as always, but— I shouldn’t be speaking of family matters with you.”
“You know I’m family, Arwen.” No matter what, his soul was linked forever to Silver’s. “Ena having a tough time?”
“Tougher than I expected. I thought she’d appreciate Silver’s perfect Silence, but . . . she’s sad that Silver’s lost part of herself. Grandmother would never describe it as sadness, but I know it’s there, like I’ve always known she would fight to the death to protect me and Silver.”
“I’ll talk to her.”
“Grandmother isn’t likely to appreciate it,” Arwen said, his tone distinctly dubious.
“Don’t worry, Arwen. I have a way with tough Mercant women.” Hanging up to a strangled sound from the other man, Valentin headed to Denhome.
Sergey was the first person he saw. The other man gave him a stiff nod, followed by a scowl. “It’s not my business, Valya, but where’s your mate? Did you make her angry enough to leave you already?”
Had the question been asked in aggression, Valentin would’ve given him a response no one would’ve ever forgotten. But Sergey had spoken with unusual hesitation, with worry from a senior member of the clan to his alpha.
Valentin clamped him on the shoulder. “She’s as dangerous as a bear when she’s riled.” The clan would understand a pissed-off mate. “I’m working on it.”
A laughing grin. “In that case, I wish you well. I once had to chase my mate halfway across Siberia so I could beg her forgiveness. Worth the frozen balls.”
• • •
TWO hours later, when Valentin got into the car to drive to the hotel where Ena was staying in Moscow, he wished this was as easy as Silver being angry with him.
Courting her the first time around wasn’t exactly easy, he reminded himself.
He was an alpha bear.
He had balls big enough to handle rejection.
Even as he grinned, even as his bear postured inside him, his heart ached. Because he, more than anyone, knew that sometimes, love wasn’t enough.
Sometimes, people changed so deeply that the change broke love itself.
PART 2
The Human Alpha
BO WAS RUNNING late for the early morning meeting with Krychek. The Psy telekinetic had messaged him only minutes earlier to ask if they could talk at a nearby building where he had another meeting; he’d asked Bo to bring Lily along, as he wanted to discuss a forthcoming Ruling Coalition media announcement.
Bo had tried to call him to see if they could reschedule for a little later in the day, but it had gone straight to voice mail. Given the importance of what Krychek probably wanted to discuss, he’d sent through a message that he was on his way. Halfway there, he got a confirmation message from the telekinetic: In meeting. Will be done by the time you arrive. I appreciate your time.
Odd that Krychek hadn’t just teleported to him, but perhaps the other man was trying to be extra polite. Bo snorted. Yeah, right. Likely Krychek was trying to tread softly in an effort to keep Bowen and the humans of the Alliance talking.
Sliding away his paper-thin but highly resilient phone that had survived water, fire, small children, and dogs, he smiled at spotting his sister. Lily had been meant to come in late to the office today, had been in the opposite part of the city from him, so they’d agreed to meet midway.
She was standing on the bridge where they’d arranged to connect, but instead of her usual serene sweetness, she was leaning over the side of the bridge and having an enthusiastic conversation with the gondolier below. The two had to shout to be heard over the music of a busker on this side of the canal, so he could hear her voice, though not what she was saying.
Whatever it was, it had her laughing before she waved good-bye to the gondolier; the man poled away to pick up a couple of excited tourists. “Flirting with Piero?” he teased on reaching her. “What will your tattooed doctor say?”
