by KH LeMoyne
“Politically correct and thoughtful,” Grizz continued in a smug tone. “I knew sending you to Karndottir territory was a bad idea.”
“Ten minutes and I’m headed out for Deacon.”
“Right.”
Breslin went back inside and tucked the phone beside Rayven on the mattress. In spite of his better judgment, he brushed a few loose curls away from her face and leaned close to inhale her scent, rubbing his cheek against hers. Before he could change his mind and kiss her, he turned away and finished his tasks.
Finally done, he stepped out onto the porch in the crisp moonlight. His cougar whined inside him. It wanted its mate. “I know, boy. But we can take better care of her my way.”
He leapt from the porch, springing off the gravel at the bottom of the steps on large paws. Freedom for his beast into the wildness of the night.
Yet the farther he ran from Rayven, the closer he felt to death.
16
All the haze and protective armor over his heart had cracked, not with a hairline fracture, but from a full-blown structural catastrophe. He thought his epiphany when Sam had taken Rayven had dosed him with clarity.
That was just the frigging iceberg tip of denial he’d been living with. A life without purpose he could no longer justify. But he accepted his mistakes, as they’d led to this moment. He could now live with losing revenge for his family’s death. They’d been gone a long time, and he’d given up decades of his life in honor of them. His parents would approve of his choices. Especially since Rayven was alive and needed his skills to save her. He’d do everything he could to make that happen, even if it meant sacrificing himself.
Breslin’s paws flew over the rocks, but aside from keeping an ear open for the vibration of another shifter, he spent his energy organizing his plan. Right now, success revolved around his alpha’s response. For if he couldn’t trust Deacon to stand behind him, then he needed different, even more dangerous, options.
In his gut, he trusted Deacon. He’d never given Breslin a reason to question his motives before—until sending him for Rayven. Certainly, years of watching his alpha find creative ways to save one after another of the clan members intent on messing up their lives should equal trust.
Yet it felt a little one-sided. The trustee honored the oath, and Deacon being the trustor let out the rope. When the time came for the trustee to sink or swim, Deacon let go. It was obviously time to paddle hard, but Breslin’s stomach coiled at the realization that he’d never had anything valuable to lose before.
Until Rayven.
Deacon had sensed that hole in him enough to remove him years ago from doling out death. But the choices he made afterward and the people whose lives he’d ruined since now weighed on him. Heavily. He supposed he could thank Callum for that bit of annoying conscience.
So he had no choice but to choose trust. Especially since Deacon was the only one with enough power to call forth Rayven’s beast. Whether it would be enough to save her during the tribunal, he couldn’t tell. The rules binding the alpha tribunal and delivery of judgments were old and complex. He knew some of the details, the most important being Deacon’s role as the alpha hosting the tribunal. As such, his responsibility included ensuring Rayven’s safety until the trial began—and presenting her case—whether she was innocent or not.
He landed on the porch of Deacon and Lena’s home, shifting back into his human form. Breslin waivered before the closed door, despite having reconciled his conscience and reaffirmed his faith in his alpha. Never once in all the years he’d worked for Deacon had he ever hesitated when summoned by his alpha. Today he felt strangely conflicted. Then the door swung open, his female alpha leaning against the door appraising him.
Lena stood aside and waved him in, though her gaze remained fixed behind him, searching. “He’s waiting for you.”
“Rayven’s still asleep,” he said in response to her unasked question. “Grizz will be bringing her in the morning.”
“Ah, good, then.” She lowered her voice and bent closer. “Is she…all right?”
“Not exactly.”
“I’ll make tea.”
Prepared to remind her he didn’t even drink tea, he realized it was her subtle way of leaving him alone with his alpha. He hoped she didn’t leave the house to seek out Rayven. For a human, his alpha took helpful meddling to an extreme. At the sounds of the kettle clanging beneath the faucet in the kitchen, he continued along to Deacon’s study. His alpha stood before the fireplace his head bent in a familiar pose of contemplation.
Breslin made it only a few feet into the large room filled with overstuffed furniture and soft rugs, before his alpha turned abruptly. Deacon sniffed the air, his eyes widening before they zeroed right in on Breslin’s neck.
Faster than the blink of an eye, Deacon was across the room with his palm wedged against Breslin’s throat, pinning him to the wall. His growl beat at Breslin’s eardrums. “What have you done?”
He swallowed hard, keeping his arms lax at his sides and chaining his cougar’s instinctive need to retaliate. “I haven’t claimed her.”
“And yet that is a mating mark I see on your neck.” Deacon’s eyes narrowed, his fingers flexing, claw tips threatening, not yet piercing.
Breslin drew in a slow breath. “She needed what I could give her.” When the tension didn’t ease, he rasped, “Wouldn’t. Ever. Hurt. Her.”
Hand suddenly snatched back, Deacon spun away, though the thick waves of his power still buffeted against Breslin. He didn’t move and took the few moments to slide back a mask of composure.
Deacon whipped his hand toward him and shook his forefinger, not yet turning toward him. “Tell me all of it. Now.”
He frowned. No one deserved to know all of it. However, he’d hit the salient points. “It’s a long story, and I respect your need to hear it all, but she’s injured. The Karndottir enforcers did their best to keep her from getting here alive.”
“She’s a shifter—a second-generation one, no less—and it’s been several days since you left. That’s more than enough time for her to recover.” However, Deacon’s searing glance hovered on him, his brows knitted together in concern.
“No, she hasn’t.” Pressure beat again along Breslin’s skin, a less-than-subtle alpha command to talk. Even so, his reluctance to reveal her secrets pressed harder. “Second generation or not, her beast hasn’t healed her.”
“Have you seen her bear?” Lena asked in a concerned voice from behind Deacon’s back. His alpha rolled his eyes, as if aware that his shield of angry censure visibly dissipated with the presence of his calmer mate.
Running a hand over his head and taking his first full breath, Breslin decided there was no good way to avoid the subject. Besides, maybe there was a chance it could help Rayven’s case. “No. In order to survive in her clan, Rayven denied her animal, even at the risk of causing herself permanent injury. I can sense it, but she can’t shift.”
Lena angled her face toward Deacon and rubbed his arm. “Can you heal her?”
Deacon waved the question away, not moving from his mate’s touch. “She’s sworn under oath to another clan.”
“Whose alpha is dead,” Lena persisted. “Doesn’t that break the tie?”
“She could be hiding the alpha inside her, which would provoke us into an alpha challenge,” Deacon responded without any real weight behind his words. “If not, there’s a risk I’ll tie her to this clan. Unacceptable considering the tribunal. She needs to heal herself.”
“I can tell the difference between lies and truth,” Breslin interjected, disregarding Deacon’s raised brow. “She’s not hiding her bear.”
Lena slid her arm around her mate’s waist. “With your immense catalog of alpha skills, I’d be surprised if you’d risk anything by trying.”
With a low rumble, Deacon slid his arm across his wife’s shoulders in resignation. “I’ll assess her when she arrives.”
He owed Lena for trying to sway Deacon. And she was
trying. From the sympathetic look in her eyes, she was pressing for him, though it would take more than his female alpha to clear up this threat. “Rayven has proof there are laboratories in her territory creating the serum to drug the children.”
“Callum explained before he left on your command.” Deacon let go of Lena and stalked back to the fireplace before leveling a fierce glare his way. “As well as the fact that you sent him to commit illegal acts to get the information.”
“It’s not the first time I’ve requested people do things humans consider illegal.” His patience was running thin. If this was all the help his alpha could give him, then he needed to come up with other options quickly. “You’ve trusted me until now.”
Deacon remained silent.
Breslin took the opportunity and pressed further. “She obtained the information while freeing children from a lab. She was a captive of the alpha’s team when Gauthier was murdered. Even I had to admit the Karndottir heir couldn’t be in two places at once.”
“This vague information won’t hold any sway with the tribunal.” Deacon’s eyes remained hooded, and the gentle pulse of power against Breslin’s skull confirmed a probe—for what? He hadn’t lied to his alpha. Rayven was innocent.
“I hoped it would make a difference.”
“Only if it proves she didn’t kill her father. Otherwise, without a witness or several time-stamped videos, the data she retrieved only aids us in our efforts. Was her father involved in the labs?”
Breslin winced, then shook his head. “It would seem not.”
“Unfortunately, digging up dirt in their territory adds another reason why she’s at odds with her father. Another motive for murder.” Deacon lifted his hand. “If she’s honorable, she’d have issues with his overlooking the labs. If she’s not, he may have found out and wanted his cut of the profits—if there are any.”
“No matter what evidence I suggest, it will be twisted against her.”
“My former cynical enforcer would have picked your case to shreds.” Even Lena frowned at Deacon’s comments, yet he only shrugged, his gaze shuttered.
She crossed her arms and moved before Breslin. “I’d like to know why you are so interested in vindicating the daughter of your lifelong enemy?”
“I’d also like to hear your answer,” Deacon pressed. “You can also tell me how you received her mark on your neck.”
Frustration beat at Breslin’s brain with an instinct calling his cougar to challenge his alpha. For the time being, he could control his beast, and he understood his alpha’s confusion. He’d spent too long perpetrating his revenge, but explaining his change of heart was a waste of time. Nothing else mattered right now except that his mate was vulnerable. It wouldn’t matter if she were the daughter of Satan himself, she needed him. “I’ll admit I was initially predisposed to make her pay for Gauthier’s crimes. But she isn’t her father. And you know I’ve never put an innocent person to death.”
“You also never ceased in your efforts to avenge your family. Eighty years is a long time to suddenly disregard your feelings.”
Frustration clawed at him. Fighting his way out of this corner with Deacon wasn’t helping. “Gauthier’s enforcers captured her, along with a boy she tried to save. She was in custody while her father was killed. If what you need is a witness, I’ll find him and bring him back.”
Cocking his head, Deacon crossed his arms over his chest. “What if I say no? I have other things for you to do. Important things.”
Trapped. He felt damn trapped. Breslin braced himself against a rush of boiling anger. If he instigated a challenge and incited his alpha, it would mean his death, not to mention that a show of aggression wouldn’t save Rayven. “I will, most respectfully, have to follow my own instincts and go after the boy.”
Deacon didn’t move even as Lena’s glance flickered back and forth between the two of them.
However, Breslin’s cat noticed his alpha’s power rise and his eyes gleaming with an uncomfortable sparkle of red in their depths. “You’d disobey me.”
Not a question. Not a request for clarification. Only a very crisp statement that said Breslin was in deep trouble if the shimmer of power crackling in the air came his way. He shook his head slowly, reconciled to deliver his final truth. “Our laws allow me to protect my mate before obeying my alpha.”
“This would be the mate you said you haven’t claimed yet?” Deacon snarled. “Or is tying yourself to her your only way of getting revenge for her father’s crimes?”
“No.” Breslin growled as the chandelier above flickered and the windowpanes rattled. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He was so fucked. He’d lost control and worse—he hated having to explain himself. With an exhale, he opened his eyes and drew back his shoulders. “I may have lost my family, but I’ve never doubted they loved me. She, on the other hand, suffered at the hands of her father as no child should. And despite that, the only thing Rayven values in life isn’t her own survival, but protecting the weaker members of her clan.” He met Deacon’s hard glare unflinchingly. “My revenge means nothing if she pays the price.”
Several endless moments of silence drew out between the three of them. A bark of laughter shot out of Deacon, and Breslin nearly jumped. He was even less prepared for the rough slap on his back that nearly brought him to his knees.
“About damn time,” Deacon said, his expression sobering. “You know, if you’d lied to me, I would’ve knocked you back to last year—without hesitation. Gauthier wasn’t worth your life. I’d nearly given up on you wanting one for yourself.”
What?
Lena gave Breslin a satisfied smile before walking into her mate’s embrace.
Breslin stared in shock at the alpha pair, as if seeing them for the first time. Was this some sort of intervention? With a wash of cold realization, he admitted he had probably driven those closest to him to do just that.
His actions had been enough to make Callum crazy and, from the looks of it, his alpha as well.
He suddenly noticed the wrinkles showing around Deacon’s eyes. The frosted white in his hair that had been there forever seemed to have company. It never occurred to Breslin until now that he may have added those features to his alpha.
As if confirming Breslin’s thoughts, Deacon added, “I was convinced you were merely paying your dues here until your death.”
Breslin dipped his head, uncomfortable that something he’d only recently become aware of in himself had been so transparent. “I’m a killer. That’s all that’s ever existed inside me. But Rayven deserves a fair chance.”
“Whether she is guilty or not remains to be seen,” Deacon countered. “Since I expect more from my clan than an oath, I will take your recommendation about her innocence under advisement.”
“Since we’ve finished with uncomfortable sharing, I believe it’s time to give you this.” Lena held out her hand and handed Breslin a cell phone. “Shanae transferred your old cell number and set it up with all the usual numbers. However, someone’s been insistently trying to reach you.”
Breslin glanced toward Deacon, who looked at the phone with interest and a terse nod.
Thumbing through the incoming calls, Breslin didn’t see anything unusual until he checked the text messages. Ten messages to be exact, and all from a number he didn’t recognize. However, each one ended with a Q.
He speed-read them and sent back a response.
Breslin: You’ve been looking for me.
Quinn: You serious about keeping Rayven alive?
Breslin: What did you find to help her?
Quinn: The boy’s alive but extraction is tricky. I need help
Breslin: Give me a location
Quinn: Calgary. Three hours
Breslin: Why are you doing this?
When no immediate response came back, Breslin figured he’d lost the shifter’s interest or the calls were a hoax meant to lure him into a trap. An answer came through that sealed the deal.
Quinn:
My brother died from the drugs they injected, and I wasn’t there to save him
Breslin: Meet you in Calgary
Hell, he’d never make it there in time. Deacon had moved beside him, reading the texts as they came up. “Brindy can get you there on the private plane in under two hours. She insists on time to prep the plane, though.”
Breslin tapped back his confirmation immediately.
“When you find the boy, I’ll send Brindy to you. No more caves, got that?” Deacon strode back to the fireplace before Breslin could answer. “How credible is this witness? Do you know his age?”
“From what I overheard, he’s a teenager. He shifted during his capture. Sixteen or seventeen. Rayven seemed confident—hopeful—he’d survive again in captivity long enough for her to come find him.”
Deacon glanced back. “On what do you base your faith in her assessments?”
A valid point from his alpha’s standpoint. In the past, he’d rarely trusted anyone not vetted by time and actions. Even Lena hadn’t gotten a pass in Breslin’s book—not at first, and not until she’d saved Deacon’s ass and several of the clan children. However, it was a little unsettling that she was watching him almost as intently as his alpha. They were probably sharing private conversations about his change in attitude at his expense.
He didn’t care. They were entitled. He’d give his life for either of them. If they helped save Rayven, he’d do whatever they wanted—forever, even if it meant having to give her up later.
“What’s left of Gauthier’s clan falls into either ruthless enforcers or families who have too much to lose by getting involved and drawing attention to themselves,” he offered. “From the few people with enough courage to step forward and help her, I’ve determined she’s well respected—not feared. She’s spent years helping her clan and refining her instincts.”
“A good sign,” Deacon said. “Some of the alphas have already arrived. Once they are all assembled, we are required begin. Whether you are here or not. But if she’s as important to you as you lead me to believe, there is one more thing I need to discuss with you before you go.”
