Page 3 of Primal Mirror

“She was so proud of what she’d accomplished in life. You were her greatest pride…” Gaze turning dull and unfocused, her eyes drifting away, her muscles going slack under his grip…and her scent twisting once more in that funhouse mirror.

Shaken, he released her.

She turned and walked back the way she’d come, until she stood in the same spot as when he’d first seen her. But she’d left carnage in her wake.

Bending down, his hands on his thighs, he gulped in lungfuls of air as his mind filled with memories of the mother who’d brought him up with love and heart and courage. She’d also held his feet to the fire when needed, especially during his teenage years, when he’d wanted to rage at the entire world.

“You sit your ass down, Remington, and we’ll have this out until I know what’s hurting you.” Fierce eyes of palest brown locked with his, her leopard a golden glow on the edges of her irises. “No son of mine is going to go off the rails because he’s got a fear inside him that he’s allowing to fester.”

Her strong, capable hands cupping his face, holding him in place. “You are not only your father’s son, Rem-Rem, you are also your mother’s son. Don’t you ever forget that.”

You were her greatest pride…

His throat closed up. How could a Psy know to say that? How could a Psy understand what a blow it struck to his weathered but never-forgotten grief to know that his mother had died proud of the man he’d become?

In the sun, in her favorite chair, in the little cottage he’d built for her when she got too tired and sick to get up to her aerie. She’d wanted to die at home, not in the antiseptic environs of a hospital. “I’m dying anyway, baby boy.” A husky whisper of memory. “I’d rather spend my last days surrounded by the green that’s always fed my wild heart.”

So he’d brought her home, and when she’d asked, he’d carried her outside, into the trees. But she’d been content to spend most days in her favorite armchair, next to an open window from where she could watch the world while the sun caressed her face.

She’d shifted in that sunlight one last time right before the end: a leopard who was too thin, whose bones stuck out against her pelt. But who’d sighed in contentment as her eyes closed, her head placed on her forelegs as if she was just taking a lazy afternoon nap. His last memory of his mother, sunbeams dancing over the black and gold of her.

…lying by the window in the sun…

How could this strange Psy with the broken scent know any of that?

It took effort for him to rise to his full height, even more effort for him to retract his claws into his body. His leopard was right at the forefront of his mind, and he knew his eyes hadn’t yet returned to their human shade.

He had to get that under control if he was going to talk to the group. Because he was certain the woman with the unnerving presence that disturbed both man and leopard on a fundamental level hadn’t said a thing to them about him, telepathically or otherwise. They remained in the exact same positions, while she stood there rocking back and forth, her arms hugging her curvy body.

It was several minutes later that he emerged out of the forest, his stride easy and his expression friendly. He’d moved so that he arrived from a different direction to where the woman had entered the trees. It had also been long enough since then that the others shouldn’t connect the two incidents.

The entire group froze—and two of the men did so in a way that told him they had tactical training. He lifted a hand, keeping it casual and lazy through sheer effort of will. “Remi, your neighbor.”

When the young woman locked her gaze with his again, his gut tensed.

The brunette crossed over to him even as the blue-eyed one blinked, then looked away.

“Good morning.” The greeting was flat, but the brunette came close enough that they could talk without strain—while her guards followed, two besuited shadows. The third man shifted closer to the woman who’d told Remi things she had no way of knowing.

“I am Charisma Wai, executive personal assistant to Auden Scott”—a nod toward the silent younger woman—“the new owner of this land.”

Chapter 2

“Remi Denier quietly bought up a piece of land in the Smokies and set up a territory with a bunch of loners he met while roaming. Just heard he’s sent out the call for others to join the pack.”

“So he finally accepted it? I knew he was meant to be an alpha the first time I ran across him—and he was determined to break his neck on a racetrack at the time.”

“I’ve had my eye on him for around the same amount of time. Figured I might one day have a problem on my hands—Remi’s too dominant to be prowling around without a pack.”

“You think he’s willing to listen to advice that might make the entire thing easier?”

“I’m going to make the offer. But I like what I’m seeing so far—I don’t think it’s chance that he bought land right up against the border of a fallow territory under trust control.”

“Smart. He holds that ragtag pack together for a full year, and he’s in position to apply for a land grant. I don’t like cats as a rule, but yeah, I hope he makes it.”

“I mean, if we can put up with a bunch of mangy wolves, anything’s possible.”

—Conversation between Lucas Hunter: alpha, DarkRiver leopards and Hawke Snow: alpha, SnowDancer wolves (27 January 2080)

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