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

by RS McCoy

  Blossom felt her cheeks go hot with disappointment and shame. Rejection cut her like the edge of a too-sharp knife.

  Kaide lowered his gaze at last, his eyes focused on the floor in front of him. His hands clenched into fists, and all at once Blossom realized what was happening.

  Just the sight of her had pushed Kaide to transition. He collapsed forward as muscles erupted across his shoulders. His legs and spine lengthened until he stood well above the others, even on all fours. The dark grey fur she so loved sprouted across his every surface. His lovely bearded face elongated into the snout of a wolf with teeth bared.

  Eton appeared before her in a flash, positioning himself between Blossom and her beast.

  The crowd hushed in an instant. Kaide’s beast form silenced the most powerful people in the realm. They all stared up at him in horrified awe, waiting to see who he would kill first.

  Castor was only a few steps to Blossom’s right, Yveline a half-step behind her. Mercer and the Pyro Syndicate Reva Mora stood at least twenty paces to the left. The Pyro Vice Syndicate Pruda Swain was alone behind Kaide, frozen in fear. She had no idea what to do.

  None of them did.

  There was no telling who Kaide would strike first. But Blossom refused to let Kaide become a murderer, to give up his life and his career. She stepped around Eton only to feel his iron grip on her wrist. “Let me go!” she protested.

  Eton would have none of it. He squeezed her tighter. “He’s going to kill someone. You have to get back.”

  “He won’t hurt me,” she argued, hoping it was true. There was a time she knew it with certainty. Now, she couldn’t be sure.

  But Eton wouldn’t release her.

  A long, angry howl resounded off the stone walls of the chamber, near-deafening in its intensity. In his beast form, Kaide sniffed the air, searching. They had mere seconds.

  “I need you to trust me.” Blossom glared at Eton with all the fire she possessed. At last, his fingers loosened their grip.

  She didn’t hesitate. Blossom lunged forward, planting herself between beast-Kaide and the realm’s politicians. She was only steps away from him, close enough to feel the warmth of every ragged breath from his beast mouth.

  She’d almost forgotten the enormity of his totem. Her head didn’t even reach his shoulder. As she had the first time, Blossom stood in awe. How she had missed him.

  “Get back!” someone shouted behind her.

  “He’ll kill her,” another screamed.

  Hisses and growls sounded over her shoulder where some of the braver elites had transitioned, ready to pounce if he should take so much as a step near them.

  But Blossom had no time for them. She was here for Kaide. She’d always been here for Kaide.

  “Hello, Beast,” she said, her voice low. She knew he could hear even that small sound with his wolf ears.

  Beast-Kaide lowered his head and flared his nostrils, sniffing the air around her, measuring her. She wondered what he could smell. The chemical in her hair that stole her curls? The metal bracelet that kept her from transitioning? The nervous sweat trickling down her back?

  Taking his inaction as a good sign, Blossom dared a step forward. This time, he growled, baring his teeth, but she wouldn’t be dissuaded. If he was going to kill her, a few steps wouldn’t make a difference.

  Blossom neared enough to dip her hands into the rich, thick fur along his neck. Had she a blade, she could have killed him then. Maybe that’s what the others thought she was doing. But Kaide and Blossom both knew better. She melted against his charcoal-grey coat and breathed in the ashy scent of him.

  “I’m so sorry Kaide,” she whispered, unsure how much would get through in his totem form. “I’m with you. I’m always with you.” She cherished such proximity to the totem form of the man she wanted to marry. These weeks of absence had only made her want him more.

  The low, rumbling purr in his throat almost made her think he understood her. Then, she realized he wasn’t purring. He was growling.

  Before she could say another word, he pulled away. His fur fell away in a thick cloud and his shoulders shrank until only the human form stood before her.

  Kaide’s deep blue eyes drank her in. He was close enough to reach out and touch her, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned on his heel and marched right out the massive metal doors.

  Eton’s hand was on her arm before she could move. “You’re mad, you know that?”

  Blossom could only nod. It probably looked that way. They probably all thought she was crazy and Kaide was dangerous, but they couldn’t have been more wrong.

  “Please let me go,” she asked him quietly, her eyes still on the space where she’d last seen Kaide. “I’ll come back. I’ll do the meeting. I won’t be gone more than five minutes. But please, let me go.”

  To her everlasting shock, he did.

  Ignoring the crowd of eyes that never left her, Blossom maintained her decorum long enough to slip through the doors. Once out of sight of the Syndicates, she broke into a full run. Bypassing the elevator, Blossom bolted down the stairs—all eleven flights of them. When she reemerged in the lobby, sweating and out of breath, she managed to catch sight of him entering the hall of portal doors.

  And Blossom knew just which door he would take. She hitched up the heavy cloak and ran as fast as her feet could carry her, stopping long enough to throw open the door to the hall before she jogged to find the portal room. Number 413. The only one he ever used.

  Blossom pulled open the door. This was it. She had so much to tell him.

  But her heart sank when she saw the empty portal room. He was already back in Pyrona, on his way to the manor.

  She was too late. She didn’t have a chance to explain.

  The entire Syndicate council had just watched her run to him, watched Kaide transition and threaten them. There would be no going back after this. Blossom and Kaide had sealed their fates. They’d both exposed themselves horribly, and it was all for nothing.

  Kaide was gone.

  She’d lost him.

  Parson laid in his tent beside Raene—his wife—and savored his new reality. With his hand still tied to hers, he could do nothing more than watch her sleep, listening to the light inhales and exhales that matched the warm breaths she cast across his chest.

  She needed the sleep, he knew. A head injury of that caliber would take weeks to fully mend, not to mention the wounds on her neck, her arm, her back. Unwilling to disturb her, Parson was trapped there. Not that he minded. He chalked it up to one of the top three best experiences of his life.

  And he needed that time. It had all happened so fast, it was so impossible. Parson had never allowed himself to really believe she would choose him. She was too invested with Hale, and he with her. So Parson spent those precious hours next to Raene letting it all sink in. The stunning Pyro girl who appeared in his clan in exchange for his sister was now his wife. She had the most powerful totem he’d ever seen, and it radiated out of her even in her human form. She had that energy and fire that kept him drawn to her, even when he tried to keep away.

  His mother had been right all along. Blossom was gone, but something strong had grown in her place. Parson was just too dense to see it right away.

  Despite his bliss, there was so much left that ate at him. Thoughts of how he would deal with the Alderai’s attack. How he would deal with Hale’s understandable hatred. How he would help Raene heal from her injuries, particularly the arm she still couldn’t feel. Even Parson knew that was a bad sign.

  But Parson pushed it to the back of his mind. Today wasn’t a day for such thoughts. It was his wedding day, and while it was a far cry from what anyone would have expected, he wouldn’t sour it for her. Raene deserved to have a good day—or as good as possible, given the circumstances.

  She finally woke sometime in early evening, breathing in a big yawning inhale before batting open her sapphire eyes. Already, he could see she’d improved. Her eyes were brighter, her skin less dull.
On reflex, she tried to move her hand but found it tied to Parson’s. A sunny smile erupted across her features. “Did you lay here all day?”

  “Couldn’t exactly escape,” he teased, pushing back a stray lock of golden hair. “Ready to get these off?”

  Raene nodded and let him help her sit up. Her eyes darkened with momentary dizziness, and Parson remembered the vial in his pocket. He opened it and held it out to her. “Gemini brought this by. Said it would help clear your head for a day or so.”

  She attempted to grasp it but couldn’t manage it in either hand. Instead, she opened her mouth and let Parson pour it in. Then he set to work on the bundle of knots. Traditionally, the new couple would work as a pair to remove the ribbons, but with Raene’s broken arm, it was left to Parson to do it. He didn’t mind, but a part of him felt like she’d been robbed of that experience.

  The first to come off was the brown one bestowed by Hale. Parson was all too happy to remove it, eager to leave thoughts of what he’d done to his brother behind. There would be a time to deal with that, but not now.

  “I’m assuming these have some sort of symbolic significance.” Raene watched his fingers work though the next knot.

  Parson nodded, not really sure he wanted to explain it. When she shot him a look, he knew he wouldn’t get out of it. “They represent a bond—” He tried to remember the words his mother had told him so long ago, when he’d tied a knot around the joined hands of a couple at only six years old. “They bind us together until we are bonded before the Alder Mother.”

  “Bonded?”

  “Consummated.” Parson kept his eyes on the ribbons.

  Raene smiled an amused little grin. “So everyone in the clan knows when new couples have—”

  “That’s the idea.” Parson chuckled at the absurdity of it.

  Raene’s cheeks flushed with color. “In Pyrona, wealthy families display the blood stain on the sheet. A lot of them don’t do it anymore, but technically you’re supposed to.”

  “Is that what you were going to do?” Parson couldn’t imagine someone as refined as Raene subjected to airing her soiled bed linens.

  Raene only shrugged. “I don’t know. Depends on who I married, I guess. Some of the families were pretty traditional.”

  “Well here in the modesty of Terra, you’re spared the bedsheets,” Parson offered dramatically. “But you do have to deal with this mess of ribbons.”

  “Well either I slept a lot harder than I thought,” Raene replied, mirroring his tone. “Or you really shouldn’t be taking them off.”

  Parson managed a low chuckle. “I didn’t touch you. And I’m not going to until you’re ready. A few days at least. I think you deserve a little leeway after what I put you through.” He was lucky she was alive and that she was his, and he wouldn’t push his luck asking for more. He refused to mention the torture of sleeping beside her every night until then and not touching her.

  Raene squeezed his fingers where they remained intertwined with hers.

  Parson shook his head and refocused on his task. “No.” It wasn’t up for discussion. She might as well ask him to kick her in the face or light her on fire. It was simply not going to happen.

  “Parson.”

  “I said no.”

  “Parson,” she said louder this time.

  Again, he shook his head. “I’m not going to hurt you again. You’re still healing—”

  “You’re not going to hurt me,” she insisted.

  Parson huffed out an aggravated sigh. “Raene. Listen. It will hurt. It always hurts the first time. That’s why there’s blood on the sheets.” Between her previous status as a Pyro princess and his certainty Hale would never try it, Parson was confident Raene was pure. And he wasn’t going to put her through even an ounce of pain. Not today.

  Raene remained silent while he finished removing the ribbons, sparing him yet another argument. They’d been married less than a day and already they were disagreeing. At last, Parson untied the last ribbon, the moss-green one that had bound his parents together. Raene pulled her hand away and flexed her fingers, feeling the stretch and movement in them for the first time since their wedding hours before.

  Then she lunged at him. Raene struck him so hard he fell over, his back striking the ground painfully. Supported only by her one good hand, Raene centered her face over his and grinned a wicked, salacious grin at him.

  Parson could only stare up at her wide-eyed, his heart pounding. The desire to touch every ounce of her and his determination to keep from hurting her put him in grave conflict.

  She straddled his hips and hovered in glory above him, silhouetted by what little evening light slipped through the tent flap. When she collapsed over him, it wasn’t to kiss him. Instead, her lips fell to his neck, nipping at the soft flesh under his ear. Parson groaned against her assault.

  “Raene—” he managed to croak, but her hand was on his chest, her nails sinking into his shirt and offering just a hint of pain.

  “Just shut up for once,” she purred in his ear. Then she sat up again, and tugged at the bottom of her tunic top, working with her one good hand to yank it over her head.

  And to his shame, Parson helped her do it. That green monstrosity never suited her anyway. Bare-chested above him, Parson couldn’t help but let his eyes catch on the bandage on her neck, the pair on her right shoulder, the edges of white gauze that curled around her sides. He didn’t want to see her back. The left side of her torso was little more than a continues purple contusion, marred with black or sickly yellow in some places. But on her bruised face, she wore a playful smile. She was excited but nervous, too.

  Parson knew he had lost. She was too stubborn, too brave, too insatiable.

  He wouldn’t disappoint her yet again. He placed a hand on each of her hips, rubbing his thumbs across her smooth flesh. She couldn’t have known how he had imagined this moment, always as an impossible dream, and now it was here, actually happening. She was really his.

  He didn’t deserve her.

  That didn’t stop him from pushing up and catching her mouth with his, bracing against the ground with both hands. He wanted nothing more than to throw her to the floor and have his way with her, but she was still injured, still too frail for such an endeavor. So Parson let her go as fast or slow as she wanted, as she could. He didn’t pull her against him. He didn’t pin her to the ground just to watch her squirm. Instead, he helped her remove whichever article of clothing she deemed unnecessary. He supported her weight when her arm grew tired. He kissed every ounce of flesh that came close enough. And in the eyes of the Alder Mother, Parson made Raene his wife.

  Hale could think of absolutely nothing he’d rather do less than attend a celebration for Raene and Parson’s wedding. Literally nothing.

  On the outside, he was the same Hale as always. He made sure of it. He was calm, collected, maybe a bit more lost in thought than usual, but he refused to let his wounds show on the surface.

  He wouldn’t lash out like Parson. He wouldn’t run.

  Hale had more integrity than that. He had put on a brave face and tied the ribbons around their joined hands as was expected of every clan member, Hale included.

  But there was no denying the tempest raging inside him. He’d been shattered, trampled by a stampeding herd or hung like a carcass to be bled dry. There was nothing left in him. A gaping wound of the gravest kind.

  For the life of him, Hale couldn’t figure out where he’d gone wrong. He’d done what the Mother asked. He welcomed her into his clan, his tent, his life. He rubbed her back when she couldn’t sleep and helped her cope with her violent totem.

  Hale did everything in his power to keep her safe. And Parson had done everything to put her in danger. Sneaking off. Hunting. Leaving camp. Parson failed to protect her, and for that, he was rewarded with her selection. Parson had her as his wife, and Hale had nothing.

  It didn’t make a damn bit of sense.

  And worse than that, he’d been wrong. For
the first time in the five years since his transformation, his coin had failed to convey the Mother’s plan. It was Hale who should have her for his bride. It was the Mother’s will.

  Hale didn’t know what to believe, what to feel. He was so overcome with emotion he couldn’t feel anything. He was numb, in shock, frozen, burned from the inside out.

  None of it made sense. Not one shred of it.

  With hands clasped tight at his chest, Hale lowered his head and prayed. The Mother had never led him astray. She had his undying faith and devotion, but Hale couldn’t help but ask her why. He knew she wouldn’t answer, that it was selfish of him to ask, but the temptation was too great. He clung to the hope that there was a simple explanation, a misunderstanding perhaps, but there was only silence, another test of his faith.

  Midday came and went, followed by afternoon, and then evening. No one asked for his help setting up the celebration, and Hale didn’t leave his tent to offer. How was he supposed to face them?

  The entire clan knew. Every person he’d ever known had watched him court Raene. And now that they’d tied ribbons around Parson and Raene’s hands after their wedding walk, the clan knew that Hale hadn’t been chosen. Everyone knew Hale was second to Parson.

  It was more humiliating than he could endure.

  Hale worked to bury his pain, to tuck it away where it hardened and festered, out of sight but still sucking him dry from the inside.

  By the time all traces of daylight were gone, festive music radiated from the central pit. They were the same songs he’d heard all his life, but now he couldn’t stand to listen. Hale sat in his chair with his head buried in his hands, praying for it to end.

  “I’m so sorry, Hale.” Gemini’s voice sounded inside his tent flap, but he didn’t look up.

  “Leave me alone.” He didn’t need to be anyone’s spectacle.

  “You look like you could use some company.”

  Hale flew to his feet and glared at her. She’d been a staple in his life for no other reason than Blossom. Hale had known Gemini since the day she was born, but never had he had reason to harbor anything but tolerance toward her. Now, he spewed all his pain and frustrations at her. “Get out.”