Raene and the Three Bears (The Alder Tales Book 2)

by RS McCoy

  “Good morning, Tasia,” Hale said with a nod. “Ms. Randal,” he continued. “I thought I might offer you a tour of the cut.”

  “What did Da say about it?” Tasia replied for her.

  “It’s not his decision.” Hale’s chestnut hair fell into his eyes, giving him an ominous sort of look, but he didn’t push it back. Instead, he only stood tall and waited for Tasia’s argument.

  Raene felt the tension in the tent rise like morning steam off a volcano. She had no idea what they were talking about, but the disagreement was clear. She promptly shoved another bit of too-sweet fruit in her mouth. It wasn’t what she wanted—not even close—but juicy bites of apples and peaches were all Lathan and Tasia offered her. Still, at least she didn’t have to figure out what to say to him with her mouth full.

  “He might have reservations,” Tasia continued.

  “He may, but I don’t. It’s the Mother’s will. If I wanted to argue, I would have gone to Parson.” Hale shot her a silencing look, and that appeared to be the end of it. He turned his attention back to Raene and reached out a hand. “Would you like to see the cut?”

  Raene looked back and forth between Hale and Tasia for several seconds before Tasia finally nodded. “Go on. But if Da finds out, I had nothing to do with it.” She shook her head with an amused smile.

  But Raene didn’t want to go. She didn’t want to leave the temporary safety of Lathan’s tent. She didn’t want to risk losing control again.

  Not that she could tell him that.

  All at once, Raene realized she would be alone with Hale Frane, the youngest son of the Bear Clan and her potential future husband. She had a month to decide and she’d foolishly wasted an entire week with her sulking. Her whole body seemed to hum with nerves and excitement and consuming, gut-wrenching fear.

  What if he didn’t find her suitable? What if she was simply too different from Terra girls? What if she didn’t like him? It probably didn’t help that the only time he’d ever spoken to her, she’d been too in shock to even converse properly.

  Sitting on the floor of Lathan’s tent and eating breakfast with his wife seemed so much safer than going anywhere with Hale. For several seconds, Raene sat in stunned silence, her cheek full of fruit she couldn’t remember to swallow down.

  “Ms. Randal?” Hale prompted.

  Only then was Raene spurred into action. She set down her half-full plate of fruit and let Hale help her to her feet. Standing before him, she was reminded he wasn’t quite as tall as her.

  Raene nodded respectfully with the force of habit. “Thank you, Master Frane.”

  “Please, it’s just Hale.” His face lit with a pleasant smile.

  When they were outside and moving, Raene asked, “So where are we going, exactly?” Out in the open, it was easier to breath. She hadn’t realized how smothered she felt until she had space to move again.

  Walking beside her with a full step between them, Hale answered, “To the cut.”

  “What is that?” Raene was desperate to keep talking, to prevent some sort of horrible awkward silence. If she asked him endless questions, he’d keep talking, and she wouldn’t have a chance to think of how much she hated the whole situation.

  Hale offered her a sweet smile and oozed a calmness she couldn’t begin to fathom. “The Bear Clan is best known for its bears, but we’ve made another mark on the world. We harvest alder trees throughout the Alderwood and sell the lumber. The cut is the site of our current tree in process.”

  “And you do that as well? You cut down alder trees?” Away from camp, and with only the sacred trees to keep them company, there was no escaping his presence.

  “No, not usually. I work with Da managing the clan and finding our next site. Lathan and Parson manage the cut.” Hale rubbed his hands together for a moment before he stopped short and turned to face her.

  Raene’s pulse fluttered at the base of her throat, pounding so hard she couldn’t make a sound. She twisted her hands together in hopes of staying her transformation. She was so close to the edge.

  Hale sighed and said, “I am sorry about Parson’s behavior. He doesn’t take loss well. It should be him that shows you the cut.”

  “I don’t mind. I don’t think he likes me very much.” It was all Raene could think to say.

  “It’s not that he doesn’t like you. He just doesn’t handle change very well. He’ll warm up to you eventually.” When Raene didn’t respond, Hale continued toward the cut.

  As she’d dreaded, a silence grew between them. Raene didn’t know what to say, what to ask him. She didn’t want to talk about Pyrona or Kaide or Blossom. She didn’t want to know why Parson hated her or why Hale had asked her out here today.

  So instead, she kept her gaze on the surrounding forest. The alder trees loomed high above, and her tiger ears caught more sounds than her human ears ever could. Small mammals clung to the branches high above—squirrels and birds and the like. In the distance, some sort of hooved creatures made their way to the east. Frogs drummed and crickets sang.

  And Raene could only think of how each one would taste—how easy it would be to race through the forest on her tiger paws and crush an animal in her jaw.

  They walked for only a few more minutes before she caught sight of sunlight streaming to the forest floor ahead. The sounds of axes and men yelling filled the air, growing louder as they neared. At last, when they were close enough, Raene saw a dozen men working at the base of a fallen alder tree.

  “Welcome to the cut,” Hale offered with a proud smile.

  Raene gazed at the clearing in awe. Never had she seen such a massive tree on its side. The trunk alone was tall enough to hide the manor behind, and it stretched so far ahead she couldn’t see more than a tangle of branches at the other end. Men worked at the closest end to remove the roots, stripping them off with large saws that took three men on each side. The warm-honey wood shone where several roots had already been removed.

  Rather than the ashy-grey of the cut trees they had passed at the edge of the Alderwood, this tree retained its warm-honey color. “It was still alive when it was cut down,” Raene said, the realization striking her like a stone.

  “Yes, ours is a highly illegal operation, but it offers the best wood and the highest prices at market.” His eyes studied her features, searching for her reaction, but Raene declined to give any.

  Hale and Raene walked along the length of the trunk, watching the men work and marveling at the process. Everyone moved together, shouting commands that made no sense to her, but they seemed to know exactly what they were doing.

  “What do you think?” Hale asked when the first branches were within view.

  Raene shrugged and smiled. “I’m a little relieved.”

  “Relieved?”

  “I thought Terras were quite religious. I was preparing myself for a life of devotion to a tree I don’t believe in. But seeing as how you’re illegally cutting them down, I’m guessing that won’t be the case.” Raene looked up at the youngest Frane brother and found her answer written across his face.

  She had been so, so wrong.

  “I’m sorry, I thought—”

  Hale straightened and shook his head. “A sensible conclusion, Ms. Randal. However, devotion to the Mother and utilization of her gifts are not mutually exclusive. We honor the Mother by harvesting her trees at their peak.” Raene heard shades of Kaide’s business voice in Hale, masking his disappointment.

  “Of course, how silly of me.” Raene slipped into her familiar innocent-girl routine and played it off like she’d simply had a daft moment. She didn’t let him know the depth of her own disappointment.

  Hale was kind enough to smile, though he didn’t seem convinced. “Not all Terras share my devotion. Every person makes their own relationship with the Mother. Maybe someday you’ll come to be close to her.”

  Raene tried not to roll her eyes and gag. Instead, she offered a girlish smile and said, “Yes, maybe someday.” Thankfully, she was saved
from saying more when Parson and Lathan appeared among the nearest group of working men.

  Lathan lowered his axe when he saw them and headed in their direction. Parson only offered them a cold look before continuing to strike a branch.

  “You shouldn’t have brought her here,” Lathan began as soon as he was near enough.

  “She deserves to know,” Hale answered.

  Raene could feel the same argument rise up again, and as with the first time, she didn’t want to be involved. She took a half-step back and let the brothers discuss it.

  “We have security measures for a reason. You know better than this,” Lathan continued, his voice its usual booming echo, though today it was tinged with anger or protectiveness.

  “She’s one of us now. There’s no reason to keep this from her.”

  Lathan sighed and glared at Hale for only a moment more. “You’re right, but you should have discussed this with us first.” Then, without warning, Lathan spun and shouted, “Parson! Get down here!”

  Raene cringed. She didn’t want to see the hateful brother. He clearly wanted nothing to do with her. Bringing him down would only force them both into an unpleasant situation.

  Parson, too, seemed to think better of it. His axe swings didn’t so much as slow in response to his brother’s call. For all Raene knew, he hadn’t even heard.

  So Lathan called out again, louder and sterner this time. Only then did Parson lower his axe and turn to look at them.

  Lathan had to shout several more times before Parson started toward them. They all watched as he approached, his disapproval set deep into his features.

  “It’s time you were properly introduced,” Lathan said.

  “We met,” Parson answered, his gaze remaining on the trees on the far side of the clearing.

  “Da’s tent doesn’t count—” Hale started.

  Parson gaze locked on his younger brother. “I said, we met.”

  Raene stepped forward to end the uncomfortable exchange. “We did. Outside his tent. Tasia introduced us.” Hale and Lathan both stared, mouths half-open in surprise.

  Parson seized the moment. “If there’s nothing else—”

  “There is,” Lathan cut him off. “You have a duty and obligation to let Ms. Randal choose between you two—”

  Parson stepped forward and filled the space directly in front of Raene. He was the same height as her, but she felt like a child standing before him. His voice was low, and his eyes were intense and serious as he said, “Let me make this easy for you. I don’t want some Pyro princess. Choose Hale.” Then, he turned to his younger brother. “You can have her.” With that, he spun on his heel and started back toward the tree.

  “Excuse me?!” Raene screamed, her voice echoing across the clearing. She could feel every man looking at her, but she was past caring. White-hot anger exploded out of her like a geyser.

  Even Parson turned to look at her.

  Raene marched to where he stopped and pointed an angry finger in his face. “I’m not a toy to be passed around. I’m not a piece of garbage to be tossed aside. You don’t know the first thing about me. How dare you. How dare you.”

  And then, it happened. Raene felt it begin even before she saw the rust-orange fur erupt over her hand. Transition rolled through her like a wave. Her shoulders widened, and her legs filled with muscle. Human hands gripped her. Someone shouted in her ear. But it was too late. The release was too powerful, the build-up too long.

  Being in tiger form felt far too good.

  Raene’s tiger paw lashed for the closest victim, but he dodged too soon. She missed and fell to the ground on all fours. Refusing to give up this taste of freedom, tiger-Raene bolted for the cover of trees.

  Lost

  KAIDE SMOOTHED a hand over the front of his cloak before he reached up, rapping his knuckle on the massive door. The sound echoed through the corridor and a moment later, a small voice bid him entry.

  “You needn’t knock,” Syndicate Mora seethed from her chair, unpleasant as usual.

  “I only meant to be respectful.” Kaide approached his customary position on the far side of her desk and held his hands clasped behind his back.

  In an enormous black chair at a matching desk, Syndicate Mora looked tiny and harmless. Of course, Kaide knew better. She had a water monitor totem, a sneaking, slithering lizard. She was ruthless. She was one of the most formidable Syndicates in decades, but time had gotten the better of her. Arthritis left her crippled and slow. Most of her hair had fallen out some years ago. These days, she opted for a short-cropped wig of black-and-grey horse hair.

  Her time was over. To Kaide, her fate was clearer than the cloudless summer sky.

  “You called this meeting. Even claimed it was an emergency. So by all means, Landel, tell me what I can do to help you.” She tilted back in her chair and gazed up at him with that sly little smile she so often wore.

  Kaide swallowed down his apprehension. “First, I’d like your support in arranging a meeting of the realms regarding the spread of the Prentis and the resurgence of the Milton’s collections within Pyrona.” Kaide had made eliminating the sex-trafficking ring his primary focus. He lifted his chin and awaited her response, more resigned to this task than ever.

  As was her habit, Syndicate Mora stroked her chin with her knobbed fingers, finding some measure of thoughtfulness from the gesture. “I’ll support you informing the Alderai and Syndicates. It’s too early to call a full meeting. For all we know, this is a Pyro problem—”

  “It’s not a Pyro problem, Syndicate Mora.” Kaide struggled to keep his composure when she made such erroneous decisions. The Prentis were getting out of hand, collecting more women in recent weeks than they had in the past year. At current, none of their victims had been located. They weren’t in Pyrona. They were in another branch, and someone knew it. Gathering the Syndicates and their Vice Syndicates in a single location would force someone to take responsibility—or at least inform the branches that Kaide was aware of their activities without leveling specific allegations.

  And after they attempted to kidnap Blossom and sell her to their leader, the Milton, Kaide decided he’d had enough. Blossom was far stronger and more capable than he ever imagined, but he didn’t want to think about what might have happened had he not shown up to the warehouse when he did. The idea that they were still out there, pulling women off the streets, selling them into service, using their bodies without remorse—it made Kaide ill to even consider it.

  Mora clearly didn’t suffer the same affliction.

  She shot him a terse gaze. “Send word to the Alderai and the Syndicates. We will reassess at a later date if necessary.” And then remembering, she added, “The second item?”

  Kaide cleared his throat and prepared to say the words he’d wanted to speak for so long. “I seek your endorsement to ascend the Syndicate Office of the Pyro Branch.”

  “Ah, yes. I supposed as much.” Her eyes drifted down, and her smile faded. It was then Kaide knew she would deny him.

  “You have no cause to prevent my ascension,” he argued. “You named me your successor before the Spring Ceremony—”

  Syndicate Mora pushed up from her chair and speared him with her intense regard. For so small a person, she carried great presence. Even with her slowness, Kaide could feel her every step as she rounded the desk and arrived in front of him, reaching no higher than the middle of his chest. “Yes, Landel. I named you my successor. But that was when you held my confidence. In the weeks since, you’ve allowed yourself to be swayed. You’ve given in to your enemies. Look at you. You’re falling apart. I cannot in good conscience leave the Pyro branch in your hands. Not anymore.”

  If he hadn’t just been accused of falling apart, Kaide would have transitioned and shredded her in a heartbeat. Even her oversized-lizard totem was nothing compared to the strength of his beast.

  But since she’d named his lack of control, he knew transitioning was the last thing he could do. Kaide sucked in a
calming breath and worked to remain in his human form. “I am the best candidate, and you know it. The time has come. Name me Syndicate.”

  Syndicate Mora looked up at him. For the first time in the years he’d served her, she didn’t offer him a serious glare or a vicious grin. Instead, there was something else. “Tell me what happened to your bride,” she asked in a low voice.

  Kaide closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. He didn’t want to discuss it. He wanted to forget Blossom had ever lived, but at the same time, he was desperate to know if she was safe and why she’d left him. He hated her and loved her with every breath.

  If it had been anyone else, Kaide would have ignored the question and talked his way out of it. But this was Reva Mora, Pyro Syndicate. She wouldn’t let it go until she had her answers.

  So, Kaide told her. “She left my protection under the guise of transformation. She neither underwent her transformation nor returned to Pyrona. I can only guess her current whereabouts.”

  Syndicate Mora nodded like she’d known all along. “Even so, I cannot endorse your ascension at this time. Prove to me you are still the dedicated, vigilant politician I know you to be. Then we’ll discuss it further.”

  “As you wish, Syndicate Mora.” Kaide kept his tone level despite his anger. It was the right decision, he knew, but that didn’t quell his frustration.

  Once he was named Syndicate, Kaide would be fully occupied carrying out his plan to destroy Aero and unify the branches. Without the title, there was nothing he could do but return to the manor and simmer in the disaster his life had become.

  Parson saw it in her eyes—the bright blue ones that suddenly turned gold. He knew she would transition, probably before she knew it herself. He had only a half-second to grip her by the shoulders and shout her name, but it wasn’t enough. She was too angry. Her totem was too strong.

  Her totem claimed her while he still gripped her tight. Parson had barely stepped to the side before she landed on all four paws in her full tiger form.