One True Mate 6: Bear's Redemption

by Lisa Ladew

  B3 scoffed. “Ha! Bruin the BOGI? He is nothing more than a traitor.”

  Bruin stared at his father, the man he loved more than any other. The man he had tried so hard to look up to. In the past, it had been a knife straight to the heart when his father had uttered that word, but now? Bruin saw his father for what he was. Scared. Sad. Alone. Broken. A man who couldn’t help spewing pain over the ones closest to him. Bruin pitied him.

  He took a step up the aisle, heading for his brother, intent on telling his father he knew the truth. It was over, and Bruin would not let him move forward with this plan.

  Conri’s words and actions stopped him. “Let me show you how I know that not only is Bruin not a traitor, dad, but he is the BOGI, the one we have been waiting for.” Conri whipped off his shirt, and pointed his back at his father first, and the crowd second.

  B3’s expression faltered as he stared hard at Conri’s back, then rubbed at his own shoulder.

  Conri held out his left arm, so his controversial renqua was easily seen by all. “Yes, I have my renqua back, and I’ll bet Bruin does, too.” He turned and pointed at Bruin and Willow. “It came back when she touched me. She’s Bruin’s One True Mate, and she made my renqua return.”

  The crowd turned as one, all eyes on Bruin and Willow. Willow stood and held up her arms, accepting their attention, moving into the aisle, leaving Bruin unsure of what she was planning.

  “I did bring back his renqua, although I don’t know exactly how I did it. I have a power that I was born with, that helps me read and conduct the emotional energy of people.” She turned and sprinted up the stairs to the stage, making Bruin hurry to follow her.

  She raised her arms again. “I have something to show you all, something B3 has been hiding from you.”

  Willow pointed at B3, then plucked physically at the air near B3’s shoulder. He shuddered and pulled away from her, but she pinched her fingers together like she was grabbing something, and pulled at it, and when she did, Bruin could see it. It was a black and twisting smoke-looking circle of energy around B3’s head. When Willow grabbed it and spread it between her arms, a picture was visible in it, like a movie projected against a sheet outside.

  In it, four-year-old Bruin played with sticks next to his brother, while the younger brothers tried to crawl nearby on a blanket of moss. Young Bruin stared ahead for a moment, his face going blank in a way that would have made the parent of an epileptic grab for the phone and call 911. He stood, tilting his head to the side, and recited:

  Khain plots. The ax falls on the vulnerable. The water is ruined. The bearen chief falters, but there is still time.

  B3’s face tightened, but he stared at the images with the same dread as everyone else in the room, as another scene played out. Bruin’s mom, B3’s mate, arguing with B3, telling him that she would go to the council without him if she had to. She believed that little Bruin had a message funneled through him from Rhen herself, and if no one did anything, something awful was going to happen. They fought bitterly, long into the night, and the scene ended with Bruin’s mom slamming the door to their bedroom, screaming that B3 was so headstrong and stubborn, he was going to falter them all into an early grave. B3 shouted one thing back to her. “He’s wrong. I’ll bet on it. I bet my renqua on it. I bet all our renqua on it.”

  Bruin stared, transfixed, as the final piece of the puzzle of his life locked into place. His father was so powerful, he had inadvertently sentenced them all to a life without a connection to Rhen, with nothing more than a hastily said vow. Bruin snuck a look at his father and read the emotions there. His father remembered this differently.

  The next “scene” of the movie Willow was pulling from B3’s memory was of B3, spread out in front of a coffin, weeping, five boys crying in a knot behind him, five thousand men left adrift in the background, most of them so dazed that they didn’t even realize the full magnitude of what had happened to them.

  B3’s expression broke as he stared, frantic emotion sweeping him. Recognition. Guilt. Shame. Remorse. Self-hate. Then it all smoothed over as the madness gripped him, protecting him from himself. “Lies!” he shouted, but then he stopped as Mrs. White came back onto the stage, standing off a bit to one side. “It is done. He was waiting to hear from you.”

  B3’s emotions went wild again, escaping his thin mask. Horror dawned on it as he realized what he had done. He grabbed for Mrs. White. “Wait. No! I was wrong. I-I. Call it off.”

  Mrs. White didn’t move. “Too late,” she said, and her voice was almost apologetic.

  The flap Bruin and Willow had entered through lifted, and someone appeared there. Bruin squinted against the lights, stepping in front of his mate at once. He knew who this was. They’d fought before.

  Khain strode down the aisle as a man, eyes as black as if he’d made them up with woman’s liner, hair pulled back from his cruel face, mouth a thin slash, as he surveyed the crowd. His black t-shirt read, “The BOGI Sucks Eggs for Fun,” and his shit-kicking boots clacked on the makeshift plywood floor like tap shoes.

  He walked up the aisle, his head swinging right and left, his eyes now glowing red, as he met eyes with the males around him. His t-shirt changed, now saying, “The BOGI Couldn’t Foresee his Way Out of a Child’s Maze,” now “B3 for BOGI, 2017!,” till the messages flitted through so quickly, Bruin couldn’t read them.

  Khain approached the stage at a steady clip, and with each step he took, he grew. A foot. Two feet. Four. Until his head reached the canvas ceiling, and with a yank of his hand, the tent flew into the air, and over the heads of the crowd outside. The bearen murmured, some cried out, they all went on their guard, but none rushed the monster, including Bruin. He looked around. Mrs. White was gone. His brothers were all agape. None of them had seen Khain before. Some of them might have thought of him as they thought of the bogeyman. Not quite real.

  Bruin shoved his mate behind him, sending her messages with his mind. Willow, I’m going to shift and attack him and you are going to run the other way and go straight to Rogue in the driveway, you two get away from here, do you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you understand.

  Willow squeezed. Bruin nodded, then sent Mac a message. Mac, where are you buddy? We need you up here.

  Mac came back immediately, his breathing elevated, his voice strained. I smell that fucker, Bru, I’m on my way, just gotta dodge this tent and get Rogue to stand down.

  Before another word could be said, Khain reached down with a huge, blackened, clawed hand and snatched B3 off the stage. “Good bearen,” he said, the exaggerated wind from his words flattening trees, blowing hats off heads, making them all fall to the ground or be blown away. His five-foot-high face had twisted and reddened, looking less human and more demon. “Your chief has invited me here, to fix a wrong that has fallen upon you, his people.”

  Bruin covered Willow with his body, trying to think of a new plan.

  Khain held B3 in his palm, and raised the claws of his other hand. “Bare your chest, bear. This is going to hurt, but when it’s over, you’ll have what you want so badly.”

  B3 stuck out his chest and his chin. “Mark me. I invited you. But leave the rest.”

  Khain smirked. “Ah, but that would be rude, to leave my job here half finished.” He grinned, and needle-like projections shot from his claws, small enough to fit the chest of the male in his grasp.

  Bruin jumped to his feet, pulling Willow with him, running for her life to the rear of the monster. “Now go,” he shouted at her, expecting her to obey him. He must save her, and his father both. He shifted as he turned, missing the slashing of his father’s chest with Khain’s mark, but hearing the cruel laughter that came from the demon’s mouth. Bruin ran for the monster’s tree trunk legs, thundering a message at the bearen in ruhi. NOW, if we all attack as one, we can defeat him, or drive him off. This is what the wolven do. Join with me, brothers.

  But Bruin was alone in his assault. Khain laughed at him, worrying his ankle, tearing out chunks of
blackening flesh, but changing nothing. Khain held up his claws, which looked normal again, except that they were each as big as a bearen male, which is to say a rather thick and tall and dense male.

  Khain’s voice held an edge that could only be described as pure, molten evil. Bruin redoubled his efforts. What would Mac do? He climbed Khain’s leg like a tree. If he could get to the throat he could rip and tear-Khain slashed his claw hand through the air at the crowd of bearen at his feet, and energy, thick, red and destructive shot from his claws, three slashes, that would mark a hundred bearen at once, but Willow ran in front of them all. “No!” she shouted, meeting the energy headlong, in that way she had when she wanted to be sure you knew she meant business.

  Bruin slipped in fear, sliding eight feet down the monster’s leg, his claws raising deep furrows in the dark flesh. She would be marked. Or fried. He would lose his mate before they’d ever even mated once, and that would be the end of him.

  A glint of gold in Willow’s right palm caught his eye and he dared to hope the shiftsegen would be enough to make her rival to the monster.

  Khain’s red energy met Willow’s body and she was blown backwards, but the males behind her caught her at the back and held her up. She acted as a mirror canted on a slant, shooting the red energy back in Khain’s direction, but over his right shoulder, off into space, harmless to the bearen he had been aiming for.

  Bruin tried again. Brothers! Fight with me! We can defeat him if we all fight together. Bearen do take evil, useless, murdering lives. Stand with me!

  A familiar snarl in his mind had him looking up, to Khain’s hand. B3 had shifted to a grizzled and massive bear and torn into Khain’s hand with his teeth. Another familiar snarl told him Conri had joined the fray. He climbed up Khain’s other leg, dropping Bruin a wink as he clawed and bit. Beirne, Hartz, and Mato, were next, and Bruin knew suddenly why his father had tried to drive him out of Serenity. B3 had been planning this for a long time, and he’d always known Bruin would oppose him. He’d undercut Bruin at every turn, but Conri had still believed in Bruin, still held loyal to him. If Bruin had left Serenity that might have changed. If B3 had been able to influence Conri, the younger brothers would have followed, and if the younger brothers had followed, the rest of the bearen would lean however B3 said they should.

  B3 had been planning this renqua-returning party for a long time, but he’d thought he had to drive away his oldest son to garner support for it.

  Bruin felt his father’s pain. And the pain of each of his brothers. It was time for revenge.

  He sent out his battle cry one more time. We must fight together! It is our only hope. I believe in you, brothers, you are warriors!

  This time, over half the crowd dropped to all fours and shifted, rushing the demon, swarming him until they looked like bees on a beekeeper. One white wolf joined the fray, climbing over bearen backs until he reached the throat of the monster and snapped his jaws closed again and again, digging through living, black blood for a jugular.

  Khain shouted and trembled, squeezing his fists shut, hammering the animals at his belly and throat. B3 squeezed between his fingers and shot through the air. Khain shook himself and bearen went flying. Not Bruin and his brothers or Mac. They held on tight.

  Khain spoke and bearen scattered with the force of the wind from his mouth, while Bruin and his brothers continued to chew on him.

  YOU THINK YOU HAVE WON. YOU HAVE NOT. IT WAS MY AIM THAT WAS FURTHERED HERE TODAY. WE WILL BATTLE AGAIN, BEARS. NEXT TIME, NONE SURVIVE.

  Khain disappeared with a pop. Bruin dropped in the air from twenty-five feet high, twisting his body, trying to land on his feet. He hit the steps and bounced, but still his ribs cracked, bone splitting through his skin. He shifted quickly, trying not to die, as bears around him did the same.

  Human again, and healed, he grabbed someone’s clothes, and ran to his mate, lifting her from the ground, where she’d fallen after reflecting the demon’s energy.

  Chapter 31

  “Willow,” he murmured into his mate’s ear, holding her in his arms, her legs draped over his elbow, her head on his chest. She weighed too little, and his heart seized.

  But she moved, lifting a hand to his face, running her fingers through his beard. She was ok! He smiled and she dipped a finger into one of his dimples, then lifted her head, her hair tumbling out of her face.

  “Everyone ok?” she said, her voice quiet.

  Bruin was knocked speechless by his gratitude that his mate had not been injured. He could only stare stupidly at her, tracing her features with his eyes. He would never let her go again, never even put her down.

  Conri, clothed again, came up to Bruin and clapped him on the shoulder, his face a strange mixture of grimness and relief, then he answered Willow’s question. “No casualties. Dad was the only one marked. You saved us all.”

  Willow held up her hand, where the shiftsegen still flashed. “Not me. This.” She slid the chain around her neck, dropping the angel and bear next to her heart.

  Bruin looked around for Mac, but didn’t see him. Mac?

  I’m good. Me and Rogue are clearing a path out here for the KSRT.

  Conri shook his head. “You were in there somewhere.” He scanned the crowd. “Where is dad?”

  Bruin and Conri made their way up to the stage to better look for B3. They found him, in the corner on a chair, his uniform back on, his head hanging between his hands. A knot of males stood around him, hurling accusations at him. Their blood was up. None of them had ever seen Khain in person before. Or been involved in a fight. They had a taste of it now, and it had emboldened them.

  A male got brave and darted forward, ripping a medal off B3’s uniform and flinging it into the crowd. “You don’t deserve that!” he screamed. The crowd agreed.

  Another male grabbed another medal, and in under thirty seconds, B3’s uniform jacket was shredded. He didn’t lift a hand to defend himself.

  Bruin motioned to Conri. “We better get in there, before things get ugly.”

  They started that way, Willow’s arms around Bruin’s neck. Their other brothers fell in step behind them.

  Conri pushed his way in front of B3. “Let him alone!” he shouted.

  The males were not mollified. They pressed in on Conri and B3, hurling curses. Bruin watched from a few feet away, unwilling to put Willow down. Hartz, Beirne, and Mato backed Conri up, putting themselves in between the crowd and him.

  The accusations came quickly and the crowd pressed forward.

  “You saw what he did! He bet our renquas away!”

  “Then he invited Khain here!”

  “We all almost got marked! He’s the traitor! Something should be done!”

  Bruin had never seen the bearen like this before. He worried for them. What if this went too far? Bearen did not do well with guilt.

  He stepped in front of his brothers, hugging Willow to his chest, pulling himself up to his full height, facing the crowd, projecting his voice. “Did B3 do a horrible thing?”

  The crowd murmured and nodded, Bruin nodding the hardest. “Yes! The most horrible thing most of us could ever imagine. He betrayed his own son. Because of his pigheadedness and his arrogance, we all lost something important to us.”

  Bruin let the crowd digest that before he spoke again, his voice so loud he called the attention of the bearen in the very back. “BUT! How many of you would have believed?”

  No bearen said a word. They didn’t even look down or shift their weight. They thought they would have believed.

  Bruin changed tactics. His father would face judgment for his crime, but he would not be strung up, out here, on his own property, in front of his sons, by his own people. “Would it have been stoppable? My guess is no! There was very little time between me receiving the message, and the females succumbing.”

  A few males shifted on their feet. Bruin caught two nodding their heads slightly. He pressed forward. “Couldn’t we place this blame on whoever sent me the messa
ge in the first place? Why didn’t they send it to a Citlali? Why a cub? A rather silly cub, some might say. Why not to someone with some credibility?”

  From behind Bruin and his brothers, B3 raised his head and spoke, his face and his voice betraying his utter remorse and shame. “Bruin, I appreciate what you are doing for me, but you shouldn’t bother. They’re right. I did a very bad thing, and I need to pay for it.”

  Bruin stared at his father for a long time, trying to decided if his father was truly remorseful for everything he had done. He looked at Willow. She raised her eyebrows and nodded.

  “Dad,” he said. “I wouldn’t say this if I didn’t believe it.”

  B3 threw a worried glance at some males in the crowd, his face resigned. “You don’t get it, son. I did get a message. It came to me in the middle of a workday and I had a hard time interpreting it. I sat in repose but could get nothing more. It was similar to yours, and well, I couldn’t believe it. A few friends and I decided it came from Khain, himself, that he was trying to find a way to communicate with us, to throw us.”

  The crowd roared in displeasure, and males pressed forward, against the brothers. Conri and Beirne threw their weight around. “Back up! Back up and listen!” Conri shouted.

  All the brothers looked at Bruin, Conri nodding for him to go on. Bruin licked his lips and looked at the floor. His father wasn’t helping his case. What else could he say? Then his eyes fell on his lovely mate in his arms. She smiled encouragingly at him. He knew. He took a deep breath and yelled “Who among us is always able to look square in the face of their wrongdoings, their missteps and daily mistakes, and admit them to their loved ones, as is? Who is adept at always sharing the basic fragility of their bear soul? Are you perfect? I’m not.”

  His brother’s shifted behind him, and his mate’s smile shone brightly as she gazed at him. The crowd backed up a bit, murmuring. Someone close to them raised his hands and said, “What do we do with him?”