Page 99 of Primal Mirror

“I’ve worked out a route that’ll skirt most of the surveillance, and we can use the blocker on the few spots that remain. I’ll scent anyone coming close regardless.”

Retrieving the blocker, he rose to check the settings were as he needed them. “The real problem will be when we open that hatch—no way to know what’s on the other side.”

Auden, who’d returned from the bathroom having changed into loose pants and a sweatshirt, said, “I can do a telepathic scan. My telepathy isn’t strong, but it exists. Enough for me to figure out if there are people on the other side of the trapdoor.”

“Good girl,” Remi murmured after walking close to her—and he used those words because he knew they did something to her.

Her breath caught now, her pupils flaring.

But they had no time to play, so he left it at that and waved Rina over. Then the three of them went through the plan step-by-step. Rina would have her phone beside her even when she was in leopard form, could respond to an SOS in under a minute. They also had to build in contingencies to deal with the situation if Remi and Auden found themselves without phone coverage once inside.

“Your Arrow friends won’t be able to help.” Auden’s voice was heavy. “A member of the staff just sent out a household-wide telepathic alert about another major PsyNet collapse not far from here. So many people are dying.” A shaking hand pressed to her mouth. “My baby is in that same Net.”

Remi curved his hand around her nape, squeezed. “One problem at a time, Cupcake,” he rumbled. “Libby is also blood-bonded to me, and we know Psy can survive in changeling packs even if cut off from the PsyNet.”

Auden gave a jagged nod.

“We can handle tonight without the squad,” Rina said after touching her hand to Auden’s in silent comfort. “We’ve got four senior soldiers a bare five-minute run away—and oh, my baby brother, too. Because he’s a cat who likes to poke his nose into everyone’s business.”

Auden frowned. “What?”

“Last-minute addition to the plan.” Remi didn’t mention that Kit had been cuddling Liberty while it was discussed. She didn’t need the reminder of her baby, not when she’d almost been in tears when the medication wore off early and milk began to engorge her breasts.

She’d just given herself another dose—and from the redness in her eyes, she’d given in to the tears, too. He’d told her he could do it, press the injector to her skin, but she’d insisted on privacy and handling it herself.

“Time for you to get some rest, Rina,” he said, both because it was the truth—and because he wanted to hold Auden. “I’ll need you back on shift in a few hours, while I’m down.”

Rina nodded. “I’ll stay next door today. Wake me when you’re heading to sleep.”

After the sentinel left, he didn’t hesitate to cuddle Auden into his arms.

But she flinched, her body as stiff as a board. “How can you want to touch me?” A raw statement. “I feel broken, tainted—and worse, I feel a failure because I’m not there for my child.”

“You are none of those things,” he said on a growl. “You are a warrior fighting for your child’s future using all the tools at your disposal. You might not have claws, Auden, but you have a mind that’s brilliant and a determination that’s fucking unbreakable. No one and nothing will stand in your way when it comes to your cub.”

Cupping the back of her head when she remained mute and rigid, he nipped her ear. She jolted…then seemed to crumple. “In the bathroom, it struck me that this is all illusionary.” Her fingers gripping at his jacket. “A phase where I’m ascendant and the other Auden isn’t. What if it flips in another week?”

Pushing out of his arms, she paced around the room. “There are no guarantees, Remi. Not even if we figure out why they want Liberty so much!” She tapped the side of her head. “Scars don’t just vanish. Not scars like this.” Her chest heaved, her breathing erratic. “How can I go back to my baby when I don’t know who I am?”

Remi snarled. “I know. All you have to do is trust me—I’ll lock you the fuck up if you turn into the other Auden. I can scent her, remember?” He gripped her jaw. “Because, little cat? I’m not letting you go.”

“You made me a promise.” A harsh rasp, Auden toe-to-toe with him.

She was fucking incredible.

“I promised to take you out if you become a threat to Liberty.” Remi ran the pad of his thumb over her lower lip. “You can’t become that if I rip you the hell away from her the instant your scent changes.”

“You can’t be there all the time!”

He smiled, and knew it was a thing wild, without boundaries. “You’ll be living in a pack, Auden. I can make it so you’re never alone with Liberty if that’s what it takes to make you feel safe. Any member of the pack will grab her and run if you start to turn.”

“What if I become that other Auden forever?” Auden knew she shouldn’t have asked the question, that there was no good answer, but she pushed at the wound, wanting him to strike out, throw her away.

Remi’s words, when they came, were quiet—and slammed into her like bullets. “You might lose all your memories of us, Cupcake, but I’ll still have them. And however long you have with our tiny kitten, she’ll have them.” Claws brushing her cheek. “No matter what, your name will be carved onto our hearts for all eternity.”

She crumpled against his chest again, sinking into the protective warmth of his embrace, this man who saw all of her, and still wanted her. Why was she fighting with him? Because she was angry at herself? At her parents? At fate?

She didn’t know. What she did know was that the idea of losing her memories of Remi was as horrifying a thought as losing her memories of Liberty. Because this alpha leopard had become as much a part of her as her child, his growl, his arms, his beard-shadowed jaw safety to her.

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