Last Guard (Psy-Changeling Trinity #5) by Nalini Singh

“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 video that came up—an interview with Payal in relation to a recent merger.

Afterward, Pavel raised an eyebrow. “Payal Rao has no fucking idea how to deal with a sneaky Mercant.”

“Canto isn’t sneaky,” Arwen muttered. “He’s a straight arrow.”

Chuckling, Pavel slid his hand around the back of Arwen’s neck. “Sneaky is in your blood,” he said against his lover’s lips. “You can’t help it.” Then, as his bear stirred against the inside of his skin, its fur rich and luxuriant, he kissed the man who held his wild changeling heart.

And he wished Payal Rao luck.

She’d need it with her Mercant.





Chapter 28



Trust is a fragile glass bird. Drop it once, and it will shatter into shards innumerable.

—Inshara Rao, essayist (1892)

CANTO WOKE TO the awareness that he wasn’t alone. His telepathic senses had scanned out automatically on waking, a security measure he’d built into his brain in childhood. It had been a way to control what was happening to him.

He hit a changeling mind he couldn’t read, then a Psy one that was open enough to Canto to tell him it was Arwen. Which, given the current proximity of the two minds, meant the other one had to be Pavel.

The final proximate mind was Psy and locked against intrusion in a way that sang “anchor” to him.

Payal.

No response to his attempt at telepathic contact, though when he checked in the Substrate, he found her zone calm and controlled. So was the rest of the Net. The situation had been contained.

Not bothering to throw water on his face or pull a pair of sweatpants over his boxer briefs, he got in his chair and made his way to her. He couldn’t see Pavel and Arwen, which meant they were probably downstairs. Pavel’s keen hearing would’ve caught his movements—if the two younger men were smart, they’d fade discreetly away.

He found Payal asleep on his couch. Her breathing was even and she seemed to be in a genuine resting state. His fingers flexed, wanting to touch, but he wouldn’t steal touch. Not from Payal, this woman who was so careful about intimacy of any kind.