Page 209 of Golden Eagle

“I’m still doing that. But it’s not just us anymore. We have a pack again.”

She rocked back on her heels.

“We have to look after them, too. And I don’t think this is one of those times when – to do that – running away is the best option.”

She studied him a long moment, lips pursed, and then smiled. “Listen to you. Caring about something.”

“I care,” he huffed, affronted.

“Sure you do, sweetie.” She cupped his cheek a moment. “But it’s nice to see you take a stand.” She pulled back. “Even if I don’t want shit to do with whatever it is you’re gonna do.”

He chuckled.

“And I want that mage out of my house before David gets home.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He turned around, and said mage was staring right at him.

~*~

By unspoken agreement – a few darted glances between them – it was decided that Sasha would have the honor of questioning Severin. Trina sat beside him, both of them across from the mage at the table, yet more tea in front of them; Trina feltmadeof tea at this point. The rain kept coming steadily down, and the light was fading, and it was time to make some decisions and get out of Colette’s hair.

As discreetly as she could, Trina slipped her little spiralbound notebook from her jacket pocket and uncapped a pen under the table.

Severin noticed. There was something birdlike in the way his head turned toward her. “What are you writing?”

“Nothing yet.” She put the pad up on the table where he could see its blank, waiting lines. “Do you mind if I take some notes about the Institute while we talk?”

He considered a moment, and then nodded.

Her chest felt lighter and more fluttery with nerves than it ever had while interrogating a murder suspect.

Sasha’s arm brushed hers, and she heard the faint rasp that sounded like every hair on his forearm was standing at attention. His voice was light and sweet, though, when he said, “Severin, thank you for helping us today.”

Severin said, “I came to help Alexei. He said you were his friends.” His gaze flitted over toward Nikita, standing not-so-nonchalantly in the center of the rug with his arms folded, watching them from the corner of his eye. “Nikita Baskin killed my brother.” It sounded more like a statement of fact than an accusation, but Sasha twitched beside her.

“Yes, well, I know he’s very sorry about that. He regrets it.” Sasha’s voice held an edge of detectable nervousness. “He was very upset at the time, and–”

“He was looking for you.” Severin’s gaze returned to Sasha;snappedback to him, cool, and clear, and inscrutable.

Sasha’s throat clicked audibly when he swallowed. “He was.”

“Because you’re his Familiar,” Severin said, flatly.

Sasha knitted his fingers together, and flexed them. “No, we’re–” he hedged, looking and sounding hesitant.

“He’s my mate,” Nikita said, behind them.

Beside her, Sasha stiffened; one fast moment of tension, and then she heard him exhale, felt him settle.

And Nik…Mr. Repression himself…

In the midst of – ofeverything– Trina took a moment for an internal fist-pump. To hear Nik own up to it – mates – forwardly, strongly. Without remorse or embarrassment. She heard him take a step closer toward the table, and didn’t need to turn to know the fierceness of his expression; she could hear it in his voice.

She snuck a fast, sideways glance toward Sasha, and saw that he was working hard to suppress a smile, corners of his mouth twitching.

“We’re mates,” Sasha said, schooling his features back to an appropriate level of gravity. “Nik didn’t go in there that day looking to hurt anyone; he was upset, and scared for me, and he reacted badly, yes, but. He went looking for me – for his mate. Because he loves me, and he would have burned the whole place down if that’s what it took to get me back. Just like I would have, if the situation had been reversed.” His voice trembled, briefly, near the end, quavering with emotion. And honesty.

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