Chapter Twenty Eight
Mary Locke did not look at the faces that would decide her fate. Whatever punishment they decided on, she didn't want to make it more painful by recognizing them and remembering how they had given her presents during the harvest moon when she was a child.
Instead, she gazed past their heads, staring up into the sky. It was the color of a robin's egg. She always loved the sky in that shade. It looked so open and free.
The courts were always decided on in the open air, where anybody who wanted to come witness the trial might mock the accused. She heard the whispers behind her of the gathered community, as well as the whining from her youngest siblings wanting to get to her.
"Mary Locke."
The voice brought her back despite herself. She focused on the man who had spoken, Oliver Willows. She never had much to do with him, other than when he told her father that he needed to stop feeding her so much so she would slim down and find a good husband.
He seemed like a good choice to deliver her sentence.
She looked away before Willows could speak, searching for her brother, Peter. He stood at one end of the judge's table, hands clenched. He met her gaze and looked away, guilt written over his face.
"For the crime of killing your father, Paul Locke, you have been found guilty."
Of course, I have. I told you that I killed him. And the fact that he was trying to kill me and my soulmate doesn't make a difference to you.
Willows continued. "For the sake of your brother, we have decided against killing you. Instead, your Wolf will be purged."
Mary's hands went cold.
"Once your memories are gone, you will be placed in the human population and forgotten about." Willows glared at her. "Get this filth out of here."
Mary stared in horror, her Wolf howling with grief as the words rang in her ears. How could they? She had expected something horrible, but images of firing squads had been plaguing her. Not this. She clung to her Wolf as if they would begin the purging right away. Could she embrace it and run?
How was she supposed to survive without her Wolf?
A hand was on her elbow. She jerked back, but it was only Peter. His eyes were angry, but he silently pulled her away.
She expected to be taken back to the root cellar she had been locked in for the last few days, but instead, he led her to his house. It was a small cottage, built by their brothers and cousins when he married his wife. Amy stood on the step with her hand resting on a large, rounded belly, looking anxious. Mary blinked.
"You didn't tell me that Amy was expecting," she mumbled. "She's got to be six months along, right?"
"I didn't really have the time to tell you anything, did I?" Peter's voice was weary. He pulled her past Amy, giving his wife a small shake of the head.
He took her into the barn behind the house. Inside the building, the air smelled of hay and dust. Mary sneezed. She glanced around, but her eyes wouldn't focus on anything and so she gave up trying. Her Wolf was going to be purged. It whimpered, curling up in a tight ball in her chest. She closed her eyes as everything tilted around her.
"I'm sorry," Peter said. He helped her sit on a hay bale. "For everything. I wish there was something I could do."
"There isn't."
"I know. But I wish there was."
She looked at him. Her brother, younger than her by a year, had always been her closest friend. In many ways, he was her only friend as they grew up. She would miss him. Or she wouldn't. Once her Wolf was purged, she would have no memories of her past. She wouldn't remember him to miss him.
Oh, Andre! I wish I could tell you goodbye. Would he manage to find her someday? They were soulmates, they were meant to be together. But without her Wolf, would he continue being her soulmate? Would she even have a soul anymore?
"Mary, I need to tell you something."
"I don't think I want to talk, Peter."
He grasped her shoulders, his green eyes intense as he gazed into hers. "I have to. It's about... him. Your Bear. About his family."
Mary's head jerked, breaking eye contact. She pulled out of his grasp and walked away, pressing a hand to her forehead as she considered his words. "I don't want to hear anything, Peter. I only have a few hours left, I don't want to hate you."
"I don't want you to hate me either. That's why I have to tell you." His voice cracked. "Please, Mary. I can't... I won't be able to live with myself if I can't tell you what happened that day."
Mary froze. A surge of anger bolted up her spine and she whirled on him. "What is that supposed to mean? You are going to kill yourself if I don't listen to whatever excuses you have to give? That's supposed to make me not hate you?"
"Mary, that's not what I—"
"Right now what makes you think I even care what you do once I can't remember you? You killed a little girl!"
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply. The rage ebbed, replaced by a deep guilt that tore up her insides. Was this really how she wanted to leave her brother? Telling him that she didn't care if he lived of died? No! She loved him. Even though his sins burned her to the core, she couldn't leave him thinking that she hated him.
Slowly she returned to sit by him, her head hanging. Peter was silent and Mary wondered how she was supposed to apologize for something so terrible.
"I didn't mean it," she said eventually. "I'm sorry. It's just this... I'm just angry. With everything."
Peter slowly put an arm around her. "It's okay. I deserve it."
"No, you don't." But she wasn't sure of her own words. "Tell me what happened. I don't understand how you could..."
Peter closed his eyes. "It was three years ago. It was such a beautiful day, I wanted to spend it with Amy, but you know Father. He wanted to go hunting with Philip and me. He said that a couple of grizzlies had been hanging around the farm. He said he was afraid that they would attack one of the little ones, or something would happen during the Full Moon Run."
A pang hit Mary's heart. It had been years since she had been able to fully participate in the Full Moon Run. When she was with Andre, she was able to enjoy the time with him. But even that wasn't the same as running with other Wolves, sharing the glory of the moon.
She would never be able to run with her own children. She would never be able to run again.
"We went hunting. And we found a mother bear and her cub. I... we didn't have the proper guns. I don't know why Father brought the guns he did. It didn't kill them right away, we had to use knives to… I didn't know they were Shifters. I thought they were animals and a threat to the community. Oh, Luna! Forgive me, I didn't know."
Mary swallowed hard, wanting to reach over and comfort him but too frozen to move. "When did you realize?"
"After they were dead. He came. Your Bear. He didn't have his Bear with him, but he saw what we had done and he attacked. And then I realized what we had done. Was she his wife?"
"His wife and his daughter," Mary whispered, remembering the pain in Andre's eyes whenever he told her about them.
"Father shot him in the face as he embraced his Bear. It's a miracle that he survived. But he must have realized it was too late for them. He... he ran. Father wanted to chase him, so I pretended to be injured. We never talked about it again. A day later I went back to bury them, but they were gone. I assumed the Bear must have come back. I was glad that they weren't stuffed and mounted like trophies, or left to the elements."
Mary put a hand on his shoulder, not knowing how to comfort him.
"After a week, I found Philip with a gun in his mouth. I didn't know how, but I convinced him not to kill himself. It wasn't until I saw him like that… I was planning the same thing. But I knew I couldn't. If I did, who would be there for Philip?" He hunched over, hiding his face in his hands. "How old was the child?"
She had been six. Her name was Eve. But Mary couldn't tell Peter that. Instead, she put her arms around him and was silent. This is something I will gladly forget.
"I'm going to make it right. Someday, somehow, I am going to make it right." Peter looked up again, his eyes burning. "I swear."
She didn't tell him that he couldn't. There was no bringing back the dead. There was no making something like this right.
***
Andre. Mary kept her eyes closed, bringing his face to her mind. She thought of the curves of his lips when she made him laugh. The taste of his skin, the pine scent of his body. His fingers traced over her lips, steady and calm. His callouses caught in her hair as he wrapped his hands in it. And how the heat of his body sent fireworks into hers. That was all she wanted to remember, the feeling of being near him, her Wolf howling and joining with his Bear.
A hand held hers, but she didn't open he eyes. Andre was with her. His voice was whispering she was beautiful and that was all she needed.
"It's time," Peter whispered. "Mary, I'm so sorry."
She squeezed his hand harder but didn't speak. If she spoke, the spell would be broken and Andre would no longer be with her. His black eyes gazed at her. Her hands were on the smooth, tanned skin of his body, tracing the strong muscles of his torso. She ran her hands through his shoulder-length hair and his mouth was against hers.
And then the pain began.