Chapter Fourty Two
The Wolf stumbled as it turned, falling to its knees. Mary panted, leaning against the wall. She didn't know how long she had been here. Scratches on her arms and neck showed where she had failed to dodge the wolf's attack. It was slow and weak. She had been able to fight it off thus far, but for how long?
The growling was unceasing, its body tense and quivering. Mary jumped to one side as it charged her again, driving her fist into its ribs when its jaws came for her.
The Wolf yelped and a jolting feeling rippled through Mary's own ribs. Tears pricked her eyes. This was her Wolf, they were meant to come together! Not fight like this!
"Enough," she gasped out, kicking the Wolf away as it charged once more. "I'm sorry!"
The growling stopped.
Mary backed away warily, watching it. Both of them trembled on the verge of another attack. Did she dare do this? Or would it kill her if she surrendered? Slowly, Mary knelt so she was eye-level with the Wolf.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry that I couldn't protect you. I'm sorry that you were locked away. I'm sorry."
The Wolf took a step forward and two steps back.
"It happened to me, too. The pain." A shudder ran down her spine as she remembered the agony. It was clearer now than ever before. "The darkness." It was a black pit, full of despair. And no matter how hard she fought she couldn't get out. "The fear." She thought she was going to die. She knew she would never see Andre again. "But it's over."
The Wolf inched forward again.
Tears pooled in Mary's eyes. She reached out her arms. "It's over. You and I are the same. You know that, don't you? You're my soul."
Even as she spoke, she knew it was true. It was her Wolf that had called for Andre all those times, it was her Wolf that cried in pain at the thought of parting from him. Her Wolf was her soul and without it she was nothing. It was close enough to touch now and she gently brushed her fingers through the ragged fur along its shoulders.
"I need you."
The Wolf closed its eyes and leaned forward. Its forehead touched to hers and suddenly she remembered. Everything.
The births of her siblings, the slow addition of responsibility until her life ground to a halt. How she was stuck in housework and caring for them while her mother laid in bed telling her she was fat, lazy, and did everything wrong. How her father punishing her for being ten minutes late coming home from town, him telling her that she had no use for more education when she begged to be allowed back in school when she was fifteen. How feeling like her life was going to end before it even started. How she ran away from home, away from the siblings she loved but needed to be free from.
And Andre. She remembered the first time she saw him smile, heard the first time he laughed, their first kiss–the moment she knew he was her soulmate. His tears when he trusted her with the story of his wife and daughter. She closed her eyes and relived every glorious second when she was in his arms.
A whimper distracted her from her memories. She opened her eyes expecting to see her Wolf, but it was gone.
No, not gone. A howl of joy echoed in her chest. Back where it belonged.
Another whimper. Mary cast her gaze around. She gasped when it landed on a small creature in the corner of the room. It was a wolf pup, brownish-black, the color of Andre's fur. It stumbled on its short stubby legs, inching towards her. Its small tail was wagging.
Mary's breath locked in her chest. Her Wolf made a contented noise, coaxing the pup closer. It did so, but suddenly it changed. The body grew, the short legs becoming longer, the pointed ears rounding out. The Wolf pup became a Bear cub as it reached her and put its head in her lap.
"Baby," she whispered, reaching for it. But as she touched the soft fur, it slipped away like a dream and was gone.
Her Wolf made a thrumming noise and Mary knew the baby would be back. It just wasn't ready to stay yet. But it would be back.
***
Andre stared at the blank wall, trying to ignore the sounds of Peter breathing.
The longer he was in here with nothing to do but try to think of a way to escape, the more he realized this was the most stupid idea he had ever had. What did he owe those Wolves? Nothing! He had saved all their lives from Easton, so what did it matter what happened to them now? He had had Mary back in his arms and then he had walked away from her!
We would have figured out what to do with the full moon. We could get a place far away from humans and we could run together like we did before. Eventually, she would have gotten her memories back.
And if she never had, that would be fine. They would create new memories. Something he couldn't do here stuck in this prison.
The door opened and Ibeth entered, along with another Bear that had the look of a black bear about him. He was small and round, with small watery eyes. Ibeth's lips pressed tight together as she stared at Andre, a peculiar, frustrated expression on her face. She folded her arms.
"We have not heard from Grant Easton for several days now. The last we heard, he was looking for you." Ibeth folded her arms. "Where is he?"
Andre thought of the last time he had seen Easton–in a grave. He adopted a careless expression and shrugged. "How am I supposed to know?"
Ibeth's eyes narrowed. "Perhaps it would jog your memory if I told you that he had been reprimanded for his actions when it came to his treatment of Mary Locke?"
"Sorry. He stopped by my place, gave me the card that led me here and took off again. I believe he was going after Wolves." Andre paused, then layered his voice with heavy sarcasm. "Perhaps he was going to head off their all-out war on other Shifters and got himself killed."
"You don't believe that the Wolves are going to attack."
"Of course not. Otherwise he would have told me that, back when he was trying to get me to tell him where their community was. He would have done that, rather than manipulating Mary into returning so he could follow her there. He made it up as an excuse for you to go in and kill them."
"We have the community under surveillance, we'll know if any of your Wolves return there."
"So?"
Ibeth's expression remained hard and blank. "Are you going to tell me what happened with him or not?"
Andre stared back, pressing his lips together tightly.
"Very well." Ibeth nodded to her companion.
He strode into the room. Andre shifted to the balls of his feet, ready to embrace his Bear, but the little Bear went to Peter–and sunk a fist into his stomach.
Andre's eyes widened. "What are you doing?"
Peter's face went white and he sucked in a noisy breath. The little Bear pulled his fist back again. Andre jumped forward, gripping the fist. He yanked the little Bear away from Peter and stood protectively in front of the Wolf.
"Easton is dead!" he roared.
Surprise rippled through him. Was he really defending Peter Locke? Putting himself directly in harm's way for the Wolf was not the same as trying to get him out of this prison, was it? He pushed away his own confusion and focused on Ibeth, while the little Bear returned to her side.
"Easton found Mary again. He attacked her and I defended her. I killed him. But he was not after justice, he was after revenge. Paul Locke killed his family and I don't blame him for wanting revenge. God knows I let it nearly consume me in the past. But he was going to kill all of them even the children. He was going to kill Mary. I was defending my love."
Ibeth's expression grew troubled. She nodded briefly at the little Bear and he backed out of the room, glowering at Andre.
"What now?" Andre asked.
"I will bring your allegations to the others. What you say… is disturbing. We must authenticate your story. I will be back."
The door shut. Andre turned to Peter. The Wolf was white as a sheet, half-laying on the cot. His gaze didn't move from the Bear's face.
"Is it true? Easton's dead?"
"Shut up," Andre grunted, turning his back again.
***
Joy filled Mary's body, buoyant and warm. She slipped from her room, unsurprised to see Amy already waiting for her. The other woman looked exhausted but happy as she rubbed her belly fondly with a smile on her face.
"I remember," Mary whispered, not wanting to break the holiness of her experience. "You borrowed my pearl necklace when you married Peter. I was so happy… you made him happy, so I was happy."
Amy stared at her for a moment before a shy smile spread over her face. "Then you have your Wolf back?"
Mary touched her chest, where her Wolf was howling with triumph. She nodded. "Were you successful?"
"Yes. I'm going to have a strong little girl." Amy linked arms with her sister-in-law. "Let's find Philip and go back. Perhaps your Andre has brought Peter back by now and they're waiting for us."
Mary nodded. Thoughts of Andre had her nerves skittering again. What if something happened to him? He'll be back. He has to be back.
But before they reached the tomb doors, the doors opened. Mary's brow furrowed when Philip entered. His face was pale, his hands raised behind his head.
Her Wolf snarled a warning.
Three men stood behind Philip. One pointed a gun at him and the other pointed one at her and Amy. Outside the door, a dozen brown bears waited for them.