by KH LeMoyne
Rebel’s eyes widened the split second before Rayven’s massive paw swatted her across the room and into the rock wall. The children’s screaming dimmed as whatever connection remained between Rebel and her victims lessened.
As gasps and shouts echoed throughout the tribunal hall, Rayven didn’t take her eyes off her sister.
Yep, that’s what training and preparedness gets you, Charlotte. One big pissed-off alpha bear in your face. With a thump, Rayven dropped to all fours and bellowed out a roar that shook the floor. She reached, forcing a wave of her power along the wall housing the broken door, setting up a shield of her own.
The crying stopped. She didn’t know if Nathan had reverted to human form, but his snarls ceased. Chalk another one up for the new alpha and her charges. My children to protect. Worthy souls each and every one. Mine.
She stalked toward her sister, taking her time, feeling the rock beneath her padded feet and absorbing more power with each step. Just because her mentor had said no one could get in or out, didn’t mean power was out of reach. Rebel had proved as much by creating a visual link with the children. Rayven’s link was much more subtle.
Her time in Deacon’s sanctuary had offered her one huge bonus—a temporary connection to the clan and the ability to call on the magic of the land. This land was the birthplace of her mate, who had freely offered anything he possessed. He was one with this land. It owned him and he bore its power. Power he’d offered to share with her.
Nobody said this fight had to be fair. Rebel had already made that point when she went after the children.
Not prepared to submit, Rebel lashed out, sending the heavy wooden chairs hurtling through the air toward Rayven. They crashed and shattered against Rayven’s fur with no more force than a stream of fireflies on a summer’s night. “That almost tickled, Charlotte.”
Enraged, Rebel flattened her ears and rose for another attack.
This time, Rayven rose on her hind legs and opened her arms, accepting the hurtling body of her sister into an embrace. Wolf canines dug their way into the fur on her chest as she gripped her arms around the writhing mass. Rayven squeezed harder even as Rebel bucked.
“You are never leaving this room,” Rayven growled out, her deeper bear voice thundering as she crushed the body within her grasp until sharp snaps echoed in the air. “You will never harm another member of my clan ever again.”
Back broken, and paws no longer moving, Rebel still hissed, “You can’t beat me. I’m stronger than you.”
At a loud cry, Rayven looked toward the audience section. Jacob writhed in Hansen’s hold, foam frothing at his mouth. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he dropped like stone.
Rebel glanced toward the rising alpha section with a sneer. “I’m not your only enemy.”
Rayven opened her arms, letting Rebel fall to the ground, and landed with both paws crushing her sister’s rib cage. “I can handle enemies because I have friends. Last chance, Charlotte. Submit.”
But even as Rayven spoke those words, a snake of unfamiliar power wrapped around them both with a high-pitched whine that had her wincing and gasping for breath. It was vomiting out of Rebel. But how? Because it obviously wasn’t by choice. Her sister writhed on the floor, the power suffocating her too. It throbbed, but instead of the alpha blasts she’d felt initially from Deacon and the other alphas during the tribunal, this permeated her cells and shook. Why was the mantle not stopping the flow into the challenge arena? Or was the otherworldly power beyond its control?
Rayven twisted, looking for the source, only to find that all the alphas were on their feet seemingly experiencing something odd and searching for the same thing. Her gaze landed on Breslin, still in Vendrick’s hold. Vendrick’s eyes were shot with streaks of silver, his mouth pressed tight.
“Resist.” She could read the word from Breslin’s lips, but it was Vendrick’s voice that reached into her mind with the command. His power surged through her, flooding across her connection with Breslin in a rush. The energy ripped through her body with enough force to crack the invading magical hold attempting to squeeze the life from her.
However, her sister’s jaw yawned wide on a strangled gasp. Bubbles and froth retched free. Rayven stumbled back, shifting back into her human form as Rebel’s eyes changed from orange to black. She stilled, frozen in a twisted shape on the floor, the blank look of death in her eyes.
Uncertain whether to trust what she could see, Rayven approached and crouched, her forearms on her jean-clad knees as she waited. Unless the strange magic could also bring Rebel back from the dead, she was gone. With half her attention, Rayven registered the activity in the world outside her challenge bubble.
Vendrick released his hold on Breslin and stepped back, becoming lost in the throng of alphas. Breslin kept slamming his palm on the force field, awaiting entrance, but his gaze never left Rebel’s body on the floor as if he too wanted absolute confirmation she was no longer a threat.
Too stunned to do more than watch everyone, Rayven kept repeating to herself that she’d won.
However, no one seemed interested in acknowledging her victory as chaos reigned among the alphas. Clearly someone, something, had intended both Karndottir offspring to die in the ring. Jacob as well, for she suspected Rebel had less to do with his death than she’d initially thought. Perhaps Rebel’s magic was temporary, borrowed from an owner now tired of her public display and boasting.
Well, since Rayven’s training hadn’t included education of alpha superpowers and the range of abilities for beings such as Vendrick and others, that was a problem for later. They’d tipped their hand about Vendrick’s support for her in front of the other alphas, so she doubted there would be a repeat attack any time soon. This evil, whatever or whoever it was practiced calculated moves. Unlike Rebel’s emotional attack, Rayven expected the villain in the shadows would bide their time and deliberate their next move.
A tiny wash of power swept over her, sinking beneath her skin in a feeling of blissful oneness and perfection. Power she recognized—the rest of the Karndottir mantle coming home to her.
Rebel had somehow managed to grasp a small portion. Now free of the magic holding it hostage, the elusive bit of the mantle sought Rayven, confirming her sister was truly dead. She hated the well-being she felt from that reassurance, but the health and happiness of her clan came before one individual who, while related by blood, had already claimed too many innocent lives.
Rayven rose and looked at Breslin. He hadn’t moved, with his eyes now focused on her.
If he was really hers, could she somehow keep him? She held her secret wish as quiet as possible. Even so, he bowed his head toward her in acknowledgment, keeping his gaze steady as the shields holding her fight ring dissolved.
26
Damn, she was amazing, and against such insurmountable odds. For he’d witnessed the odd power destroying Rebel, and felt both Rayven’s shock through his mating bond and the flood of power from Vendrick as he’d forced Rayven free of the fatal hold.
But despite that frightening turn of the battle, Breslin had reveled in Rayven’s beast. Both he and his cougar yearned for a chance to explore the wilderness with the white bear of legend. Others might consider her existence a biologically random event, but he knew better. If he’d learned nothing else from the large library in Black Haven, he’d ingrained the origins and habitats of the animal species who dominated the shifter communities in his memory. The Spirit Bear was a beacon not only to shifters but to humans as well. Even with his fixed purpose, he wouldn’t have been idiot enough to consider her to be anything like her father if he’d first met her beast.
But then he wouldn’t have first loved the tender heart and courage of the woman who now bore the livelihood of an entire clan on her shoulders. He winced, recalling how much damage he had inflicted on that livelihood.
“What about the children?” he asked of Deacon, knowing full well Rayven stood feet from the ones manipulated by Rebel in the attack,
uncertain whether approaching them would help or make matters worse.
“If Alpha Karndottir allows, I will see if I can help them.” Ping gestured toward her mate after an accepting nod from Rayven. He ripped the sagging door from the wall, and the two disappeared without incident into the room beyond. Breslin wasn’t quite sure what to make of them. From the concerned concentration Rayven had on the open doorway, she wasn’t either. They both turned away as the volume of the discussion in the room rose to shouting levels.
“How can she be an alpha when she hasn’t completed the mentoring circuit?” Jalair insisted, his fists on his hips and his face inches away from Whit’s.
“It would seem she’s claimed her alpha title without your mentoring,” Whit shrugged, not even looking at him. “I’ll admit to being impressed with your strategies, Alpha Karndottir. Well fought.”
“I’m impressed with her choice of mate.” Yet Octavia looked anything but pleased and turned a speculative glance toward Deacon. “But you can’t both keep him.”
“Current alphas aren’t required to submit themselves to one of their peers.” Vendrick’s voice rose over the fray, his focus on Jalair who hadn’t let up on his argument. “Not that I don’t see merit in that option. However, since I created the mentoring rule, I can accommodate your need to bond with the new Alpha Karndottir by creating a new rule.”
Several of the alphas twisted around, looking uneasy. Jalair visibly paled.
“Her rise to alpha in a crumbling clan without the backing of her parent and few other supporters is rare and presents an opportunity.” Vendrick crossed his arms over his chest as he took in the tight expressions of the board members.
Breslin didn’t know what was coming, but he knew his old mentor well enough to know it wouldn’t make Jalair any happier.
“Therefore, each of your heirs will apprentice for a period of three months with Alpha Karndottir.” Rumbles echoed off the wall, but he continued. “This is the first opportunity to see a territory rebuilt and stabilized. The next generation will benefit from the experience.”
“That’s outrageous.” Jalair sputtered. But he withheld any further comment as Vendrick silently turned his attention to him and a shimmer of power prickled in the air.
“My son is of age,” Octavia offered with a sly smile in Breslin’s direction. “I’ll offer him to you now.”
Somehow, he was certain she expected him in trade. Rayven would kill her first. He withheld a smile at that thought. Though he supposed Octavia’s son couldn’t be any worse than Jacob or Rebel. They could always task the boy with paving new roads in Rayven’s sanctuary. Heaven knew it needed all sorts of work after Gauthier’s neglect.
Yet, Rayven blanched at Octavia’s offer.
Breslin tried to keep the smile from his face. “You can handle pompous shifter males.”
“I already have. But what is she implying as she looks at you as if you’re sex on a stick? And why are we having this conversation?”
“Well, when a female alpha has sex with a male and she—”
“Please, stop.”
“All right. But if you need me to help teach your new charges a thing about respect, just holler.”
“I wouldn’t trust her with my son.” Barnabas shook his head ruefully. He shrugged and several people turned his way. “He’s too much of a hothead.”
“What assurances do we have that our heirs will be safe?” Estevan hadn’t spoken during the time Breslin had been in the room, and the remark was as close as the alpha could come to an insult. Breslin listened with his beast’s senses and detected neither anger nor concern. Just an odd tone.
“We have taken an oath that heirs are protected in any exchange,” Alarico stated, leaning back on his hands on his stone. “Or are you worried your son’s virtue is at risk?”
Octavia barked a laugh, which ended with a cough into her hand.
“Alpha Karndottir hasn’t taken the oath,” Estevan snapped back. “Which leaves her and her mate a risk to our progeny.”
“My twin sons can be first,” Alpha Ping said, emerging from the visitor room and holding Hazel in her arms. She smiled, tilting her head toward Rayven. “New experiences are rare in the older territories.”
Jalair scowled. “You’ll need to make a choice between them one day, Ping. Two alphas can’t rise together.”
“There’s no need. They will decide.” Ping leaned against the shoulder of her mate beside her with an enlivened sparkle in her eyes.
“A shame we don’t all have children to send,” Deacon added as he wrapped his arm around Lena’s shoulders. She rolled her eyes but grasped him around the waist.
“Don’t be coy, Deacon. You’ve let our newest alpha taste something of great value. Your finest warrior,” Octavia interjected, her gaze sweeping hungrily over Breslin from head to toe and back. “Rather like cutting off an arm. I’d rather give her my child.”
And with those words, Breslin’s mind spun back to Octavia’s initial point. In order to claim Rayven, he needed to sever ties with Clan Black in a public way that no one could question.
“Aww, she likes you.” Rayven’s sarcasm was laced with humor, but scorn underlay her words. “That arm bit is over the top.”
“She likes the idea of someone deadly at her beck and call.”
“I rather like the idea of you at my beck and call too.”
“She wants a strong male subjugated to her power even when she doesn’t need him. I pity whoever she finds.”
“I rescind my previous comment. Deacon didn’t use you like that, did he?”
“I wouldn’t have pledged to him if he had. You, however, can call anytime, and I’ll perform with pleasure.”
“Enough. We need to resolve the final items and be done with this. I feel the issue of pledging your heirs to the new clan is settled to my satisfaction.” Vendrick looked from one alpha to the next, and it didn’t take seniority to know that there wasn’t going to be any further discussion or changes. “Alpha Karndottir, come forward.”
Breslin felt Rayven’s hesitation and moved forward, but Vendrick waved him back. “I’m not going to harm her. That is unless Rayven decides not to uphold the ideals that govern the rest of us.”
“No.” Flustered for a moment, she clenched her hands at her sides. “I mean, of course I will do the same. But I have no idea what—”
“It’s been many years since a new alpha took their place in our ranks without indoctrination.” He glanced around the room, his gaze encompassing even the audience, who still sat riveted by the unfolding precedence of a new alpha in their midst. “Some of those in power may have even forgotten what they’ve pledged to me. It was about more than care for each other’s heirs.”
“A pledge to you.” Rayven’s voice came out uncertain. However, Breslin felt her reach for him across their bond and relax as if she’d found his strength. “What do you require?”
“Your agreement to allow me access to your mantle.”
Breslin sensed her waver.
“How can I trust him?”
So many years of betrayal threaded mistrust into her emotions. He couldn’t erase her doubts or make her decision, but he had experience to offer. “Vendrick created many of our kind. He is as much an ally as a potential enemy. My beast was the one who decided what he was for me, because the animal sees everything more clearly.”
Still looking uncertain, she licked her lips and then slowly sank to her knees. When Vendrick still hadn’t moved, she placed her palms on the floor and shifted into her bear.
“Alpha,” Vendrick said as he placed his hand on Rayven’s massive head. “I accept the presentation of your beast as your pledge to honor my laws. For your faithful adherence, I offer you and yours my protection. To break these oaths is an eternal sin punishable by death. Do you understand?”
The white bear lifted her head and roared, shaking the ground beneath Breslin’s feet. Vendrick tilted back his head and issued an even louder roar that seemed to roc
k the very walls.
“Now for your mate,” urged Estevan.
Rayven shifted back in an instant. “He’s—”
Breslin laid a hand on her arm, staying her public announcement that their mating wasn’t complete. With all he’d felt through their unfinished bond over the last few days, he was certain of her love and desires. Now was his time to crystallize what was between them and let her feel what was inside him. He moved several feet away to where Deacon stood.
His alpha looked at him, as serious and open as he was the first time Breslin pledged his oath to the clan. “You were born on this sacred ground, Breslin Taggart. You have served this clan faithfully and loyally in the most difficult of ways. Your tie here is strong, and your release from here will be taxing.”
His alpha was sometimes hard to read, but since his mating to Lena, he’d worn his expressions all too clearly. This one spoke to happiness and sadness combined. Breslin swallowed against the tightness in his throat. “I understand.”
“You are aware of your options and what is required. What have you decided?” Deacon asked, the obligatory request from alpha to a defector. But Breslin wasn’t defecting. He was choosing to share the wisdom his mentors had taught him with a clan that sadly needed guidance. Choosing a life working for a strong female alpha and dedicating his life to his mate.
The choice came with consequences, but despite the years invested in Clan Black and the friends he was leaving behind, his heart was light and his mind clear. “You once made me a promise, and I naïvely thought you meant that endgame to be my revenge for my family’s death.” He looked Deacon squarely in the eyes, seeing a flicker of compassion there. “Instead, you guided me toward a life I didn’t consider possible. I owe you much as my alpha and as my friend. But I ask to be released from my oath to you and the clan.”
Rayven didn’t speak. He could feel her ready to intercede for him. Deacon had warned Breslin before he left to find Nathan what choosing to follow his mate would entail, and he didn’t want Rayven experiencing the severing of his ties to Clan Black. He closed the sharing of their bond, focused to cut her off from what would come next. She didn’t need to live through his choices. Not yet.
