Chapter 17

Bruin trudged back down the hill, feeling like he weighed a thousand pounds. Had he really said he was a wolf? She’d blinked hard at him, and her expression had gone suspicious and even a bit angry, like she knew he was lying. Then he’d realized what he’d actually said. A wolf? What was wrong with him? He’d tried to cover what he’d said but she hadn’t wanted to listen. She’d said she needed to get to the restaurant before the lunch rush and strode off, but then she’d turned and invited him and his friends to lunch. But she’d still been suspicious of him. He’d followed her at a distance, making sure she got to her house ok, and now he’d make sure she got to the restaurant, too. He would watch over her every minute until her mate was found and took that over.

Trent was back at the truck and Mac and Rogue were staring at him expectantly from the driveway of Willow’s house, leaning against the truck, Mac drinking a bottled water, Rogue looking bored.

His words were hard to get out. “Willow had to go get ready for the lunch crew to come in, but she says we're all invited to lunch.”

Rogue inspected him. “What's wrong, Bruin? You look like someone ran over your best puppy.”

Bruin's stomach heaved. If he’d had any food in it, he might have thrown up. “I can't believe it. I told her I was a wolf.”

Mac sprayed laughter, then caught himself. “Why? I mean, we're awesome, but bears are ok, too.”

Bruin spread his hands. “She's twenty-five. Her name is Willow. She's a One True Mate and I'm not a wolf, but I want her to be mine, so I-I lied.” He hung his head.

No one said anything for several moments. Bruin felt like crawling underneath the truck. Just disappearing.

Trent's voice rumbled inside his mind. You have a rip in your shirt.

Bruin trudged to the back of the truck on auto-pilot and found his spare shirt inside his toolkit. He automatically turned his front toward the others, then remembered Wade knew he didn't have a renqua, so Mac must know. They all must know, but no one had mentioned it. Wolves were good like that

He quit trying to hide his back and pulled his shirt over his head.

Troy's sharp, inquisitive voice spoke in his head. I didn't know you had a star renqua. Are you a Citlali?

Bruin's heartache was forced from his mind as he whipped his head to the left, and turned again and again trying to see over his left shoulder. Star? Citlali? No, he was a bear, just a bear, just a worker-bee doing what he was told. No one special. No one important. His father’s words echoed in his head as he continued to turn.

“What's going on?” Rogue said. “What's wrong with Bruin?”

Mac's voice was bewildered. “I'm not sure. I think he's trying to see his own renqua.”

Rogue stopped him mid-turn with a hand to his arm. “Hang in there, big guy. I got you.” She pointed her phone at his shoulder while he tried not to jump out of his skin. She took a picture, then showed it to him.

Bruin sucked in a breath and his hand shot to his left shoulder. He studied the picture of the broken, five-pointed star there.

“Cub whiskers,” he breathed, blinking hard. He’d never seen his own renqua before, that he could remember. The lines were straight and strong, with only one split in them, and a tiny, fat wing overlaid on the lower left point. An angel wing, maybe. If he squinted at the whole thing, he could see the pointy sailboat his brother had described.

He stared at the picture for a long time and rubbed the mark on his shoulder. Then, he couldn't help it. Tears leaked out of his eyes and fell down his face. He’d never thought he would see his renqua again.

Bruin blinked away the tears. Mac pushed close to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “What's going on?”

He tried to speak. “Mac,” he forced out. “I didn't have it before now. It just showed up. It wasn’t there yesterday.” He knew. He checked every morning.

Bruin gazed up the hill behind Willow’s house at the meadow that led to the hives, remembering how his shoulder had burned when Willow had touched it, how the image had come stronger than ever before.

Mac was speaking. Bruin tried to pay attention. “… you had a renqua.”

He still had Rogue’s phone gripped in his hand, but he turned on his friend. “I didn’t. I swear. I haven’t had one for most of my life. Didn't you ever notice? You've seen me shift a few times.”

Mac shook his head. “No, I just thought your hair covered it. You're pretty hairy. How could you not have a renqua?”

Bruin stared at his best friend and realized it was time to tell the whole truth, or at least as much of it as he could stand to hear come out of his mouth.

He gripped Rogue’s phone like a life raft, scared a little bit that admitting what had happened would make Rhen’s mark disappear again. He started slowly. “When the females were all killed, something happened to the bearen. I'm not sure how, but shortly after, all the bearen lost their renquas.”

Mac stared, his mouth dropping open. “All of them?”

Bruin nodded.

Mac sputtered, “But, that can't happen unless they were taken away, can it?”

Bruin shrugged, his chest aching, his heart hurting. “It happened.”

Mac looked excited now. “You should call someone… see if anybody else got theirs back.”

Bruin stuck his free hand in his pocket and touched his phone. He couldn't think of one bearen to ask, one bearen he was still on speaking terms with. Except maybe Conri.

“Here's the thing,” he said, speaking slowly, working it out in his brain as he spoke. “Some of the bearen think I was responsible for losing our renquas.” Especially my own father.

Mac frowned. “You were four years old? How could you be responsible for it?”

Bruin dropped his head. “You know that thing I do sometimes? Where I say stuff I shouldn’t know anything about? Like what I told you about Rogue and her sister?”

Mac nodded.

Bruin gathered his courage. “I did that. A day before the females died, I said that Khain was trying to kill all the shiften, that he was planning on putting something in the water.” He shrugged. “I ah-well. I somehow knew about it before it happened. And well, ah, some of the bearen took that to mean that I was speaking to Khain. That when I went blank, I was talking to him.”

Rogue shook her head. “Wait, Bruin. You sound like you think you were in on it. How could that be if you were only four?”

Bruin shrugged, “I don't know, but even some of my family thinks that maybe I could have done something to stop it, or that if I knew about it, it meant I was in on it.” Bruin faced Mac. “Remember when I told you about the Bear of Great Insight?” He recalled the prophecy, the last one a bearen Citlali had ever stated. Along with all bearen losing their renqua, the bearen Citlali had also lost their ability to receive prophecy.

Bruin took a deep breath and recited the prophecy. The one that the bearen had been hanging their hopes on for almost three decades. “The bearen have lost their way and now they will pay. Only the Bear of Great Insight can renew them, make them worthy again. Through the strength and purity of his choices and the caring of his One True Mate, all bearen will be restored to their former glory, able to work as one again.”

Bruin looked at each one of his friends in turn. Mac was frowning. Rogue looked surprised. Trent and Troy were exchanging a glance.

A thought struck him. “The Bear of Great Insight? Willow must belong to that guy. We have to tell Wade so that Wade can place a guard on her. I mean, we can be her guard for now, but we'll have to tell Wade. Wade will know what to do until we figure out who the Great Bear is.”

Rogue held up her hands. “Bruin. I think you’re missing the obvious here. I think you’re right, Willow is a One True Mate, but she's yours, Bruin. She's your One True Mate.”

Bruin shook his head. “No, I don't get one. None of the bears do until the Bear of Great Insight does.”

Rogue rolled her eyes. “Bruin, I think it's pretty clear here that you are this Bear of Great Insight.”

Bruin stepped backwards until his rear end hit the truck and he could go no farther. He held up his hands. “No way. There's no way it's me. I'm an ok bear, but I'm not the smartest and I'm not the kindest and I'm not the most decorated or diplomatic. It's not me.”

Rogue put her hands on her hips and leaned in, like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She spoke slowly. “I know that I don't know a lot of bears. In fact, I only know you, but I can't imagine one who could be more sweet and kind and smart and handsome and diplomatic, or whatever you bears find important, than you.”

Mac gave a low, warning growl and Rogue flicked his arm. “Knock it off, fluffy. We talked about this already.”

Bruin stared at her for a long time, turning what she’d said over in his mind, before rejecting it.

No. It wasn’t him.