Slave to Sensation

“Better?” he asked, brushing her hair off her face. Every time he looked into those healer’s eyes, his heart broke a little and then rejoined. She was a persistent reminder of the mother he’d lost but she was also a reminder of the goodness Shayla had been.

She nodded. “I made Nate go to work. Stupid.” With that, she turned to head to her domain-the kitchen.

Sascha waited until Tammy was out of earshot. “If having the cubs away from her makes her this anxious, why did she let them go in the first place?”

“Overprotectiveness isn’t good for predatory changelings.” He’d been guilty of making that mistake, especially in the months after Kylie’s death. His need to keep his people safe, to not lose anyone ever again, had threatened to suffocate them. He’d caught himself before he’d caused irreparable damage but it was a fault he had to guard against day in and day out.

“Tammy didn’t appear overprotective. In fact she seemed very open to letting them explore by themselves.”

“You’ve only seen her with them once.” But she’d guessed correctly. Tammy was the one who’d ripped into him for his behavior toward the juveniles. However, he couldn’t tell Sascha that. It was one thing to trust his instincts about her, quite another to place the lives of others’ cubs in her hands. That was a trust she hadn’t yet earned.

It was the right decision for an alpha but maybe it was also made because he was still fuming over the betrayal she’d contemplated. “What smells so good?” he asked, walking into the kitchen.

Tammy finished setting the places. “Chicken pot pie with strawberry tarts to follow.”

“You didn’t have to go to so much trouble,” Sascha said, and though the words sounded stilted, Lucas knew the sentiment was genuine.

To his surprise, so did Tamsyn. She touched Sascha’s hand in fleeting reassurance. “Cooking relaxes me-maybe it’s part of being a healer. If you don’t help eat my efforts, Nate’s going to start accusing me of trying to fatten him up.”

Lucas pulled out a chair. Instead of taking it, Sascha went to the other side and pulled out her own. Stubborn woman. “You eating with us, Tammy?”

“Yup.” She took off her apron and came to sit at the head of the table, Lucas to her right and Sascha to her left. “I feel strange sitting here-this is Nate’s seat.”

That was why Lucas hadn’t taken it. He might be alpha but this was a packmate’s home and in here, Nate believed that he was alpha. Tamsyn might disagree, Lucas thought with a hidden smile, but she let Nate think what he liked because she loved him.

As they began eating, the healer started talking. “I can’t stop thinking about that poor girl-Brenna.” She put down her fork. “He’s probably hurting her right now. And we’re sitting here doing nothing.”

It was Sascha who said the right thing. “If you think so negatively you’ll make it a self-fulfilling prophecy. Look past the anger and pain and think. Perhaps you’ll discover a way to help her.”

Tamsyn looked at her for a long moment. “You’re more than you appear, aren’t you, Sascha?”

“No, I’m not.” Sascha stared at her food.

“The word is that the SnowDancers are skating the edge,” Tamsyn commented, her eyes still on Sascha. “I heard her brothers had to be restrained until they came to their senses and stopped speaking about taking off Psy heads.”

Neither of them mentioned Dorian. After his wild breakdown, he’d been acting almost spookily normal. Everyone was afraid that he was going to snap when they least expected it.

“What did they hope to achieve?” Sascha raised her head to meet Lucas’s gaze. “Two changelings against the entire Psy race? It would’ve been suicide.”

“Logic and love don’t necessarily coincide,” he said, watching her eyes trace the claw-like lines on his face. Unlike many a non-changeling, she’d never appeared put off by the violent-looking markings. He’d caught her staring at them as if fascinated more than once. Nor had he forgotten the way she’d caressed them in his dreams. “They were hurting because they couldn’t protect their sister-their need to strike out is understandable.”

Lucas appreciated their position as only someone who’d once been in that very place could. The years of waiting for his body to grow strong so he could claim vengeance had been torture of the most excruciating kind, slow and seemingly endless.

“What would Psy do in the same situation?” Tamsyn asked.

Sascha took long moments to answer. “There is no love in the Psy world, so logic would prevail.” Her words were crisp but her eyes gave her away.

Somehow, he’d learned to read those night-sky eyes, learned to interpret the haunting sadness that flickered over them for barely a millisecond before she asked, “Tamsyn, may I use your home for a few hours this afternoon?”

Lucas pushed away his plate, excitement churning in his gut. Sascha was going to surf the PsyNet.

“Sure. People might drop by, though.”

“I need a room where I won’t be disturbed.”