Chapter 31

“Willow,” he murmured into his mate’s ear, holding her in his arms, her legs draped over his elbow, her head on his chest. She weighed too little, and his heart seized.

But she moved, lifting a hand to his face, running her fingers through his beard. She was ok! He smiled and she dipped a finger into one of his dimples, then lifted her head, her hair tumbling out of her face.

“Everyone ok?” she said, her voice quiet.

Bruin was knocked speechless by his gratitude that his mate had not been injured. He could only stare stupidly at her, tracing her features with his eyes. He would never let her go again, never even put her down.

Conri, clothed again, came up to Bruin and clapped him on the shoulder, his face a strange mixture of grimness and relief, then he answered Willow’s question. “No casualties. Dad was the only one marked. You saved us all.”

Willow held up her hand, where the shiftsegen still flashed. “Not me. This.” She slid the chain around her neck, dropping the angel and bear next to her heart.

Bruin looked around for Mac, but didn’t see him. Mac?

I’m good. Me and Rogue are clearing a path out here for the KSRT.

Conri shook his head. “You were in there somewhere.” He scanned the crowd. “Where is dad?”

Bruin and Conri made their way up to the stage to better look for B3. They found him, in the corner on a chair, his uniform back on, his head hanging between his hands. A knot of males stood around him, hurling accusations at him. Their blood was up. None of them had ever seen Khain in person before. Or been involved in a fight. They had a taste of it now, and it had emboldened them.

A male got brave and darted forward, ripping a medal off B3’s uniform and flinging it into the crowd. “You don’t deserve that!” he screamed. The crowd agreed.

Another male grabbed another medal, and in under thirty seconds, B3’s uniform jacket was shredded. He didn’t lift a hand to defend himself.

Bruin motioned to Conri. “We better get in there, before things get ugly.”

They started that way, Willow’s arms around Bruin’s neck. Their other brothers fell in step behind them.

Conri pushed his way in front of B3. “Let him alone!” he shouted.

The males were not mollified. They pressed in on Conri and B3, hurling curses. Bruin watched from a few feet away, unwilling to put Willow down. Hartz, Beirne, and Mato backed Conri up, putting themselves in between the crowd and him.

The accusations came quickly and the crowd pressed forward.

“You saw what he did! He bet our renquas away!”

“Then he invited Khain here!”

“We all almost got marked! He’s the traitor! Something should be done!”

Bruin had never seen the bearen like this before. He worried for them. What if this went too far? Bearen did not do well with guilt.

He stepped in front of his brothers, hugging Willow to his chest, pulling himself up to his full height, facing the crowd, projecting his voice. “Did B3 do a horrible thing?”

The crowd murmured and nodded, Bruin nodding the hardest. “Yes! The most horrible thing most of us could ever imagine. He betrayed his own son. Because of his pigheadedness and his arrogance, we all lost something important to us.”

Bruin let the crowd digest that before he spoke again, his voice so loud he called the attention of the bearen in the very back. “BUT! How many of you would have believed?”

No bearen said a word. They didn’t even look down or shift their weight. They thought they would have believed.

Bruin changed tactics. His father would face judgment for his crime, but he would not be strung up, out here, on his own property, in front of his sons, by his own people. “Would it have been stoppable? My guess is no! There was very little time between me receiving the message, and the females succumbing.”

A few males shifted on their feet. Bruin caught two nodding their heads slightly. He pressed forward. “Couldn't we place this blame on whoever sent me the message in the first place? Why didn't they send it to a Citlali? Why a cub? A rather silly cub, some might say. Why not to someone with some credibility?”

From behind Bruin and his brothers, B3 raised his head and spoke, his face and his voice betraying his utter remorse and shame. “Bruin, I appreciate what you are doing for me, but you shouldn’t bother. They’re right. I did a very bad thing, and I need to pay for it.”

Bruin stared at his father for a long time, trying to decided if his father was truly remorseful for everything he had done. He looked at Willow. She raised her eyebrows and nodded.

“Dad,” he said. “I wouldn’t say this if I didn’t believe it.”

B3 threw a worried glance at some males in the crowd, his face resigned. “You don’t get it, son. I did get a message. It came to me in the middle of a workday and I had a hard time interpreting it. I sat in repose but could get nothing more. It was similar to yours, and well, I couldn’t believe it. A few friends and I decided it came from Khain, himself, that he was trying to find a way to communicate with us, to throw us.”

The crowd roared in displeasure, and males pressed forward, against the brothers. Conri and Beirne threw their weight around. “Back up! Back up and listen!” Conri shouted.

All the brothers looked at Bruin, Conri nodding for him to go on. Bruin licked his lips and looked at the floor. His father wasn’t helping his case. What else could he say? Then his eyes fell on his lovely mate in his arms. She smiled encouragingly at him. He knew. He took a deep breath and yelled “Who among us is always able to look square in the face of their wrongdoings, their missteps and daily mistakes, and admit them to their loved ones, as is? Who is adept at always sharing the basic fragility of their bear soul? Are you perfect? I’m not.”

His brother’s shifted behind him, and his mate’s smile shone brightly as she gazed at him. The crowd backed up a bit, murmuring. Someone close to them raised his hands and said, “What do we do with him?”

Bruin raised his head, looking down the driveway they’d come in on, past the crowd of bearen. “We hand him over to the wolves.”

As if on cue, a line of police vehicles appeared out of the forest, heading up the drive.

Willow wiggled in his arms. “Bruin put me down.”

Bruin did, steeling himself against the heartache that came when she left his arms. She rested a hand lightly on his arm, the bear on her pendant staring at him from between her breasts. “There is one more thing which must be done.”

She held her free hand out to Beirne. His face showed how confused he was, but he still raised his hand for her to grasp. When she touched him, his eyebrows shot up. “Oh,” he grunted, and his free hand went to his left shoulder.

Willow nodded, keeping his hand for a few moments, then releasing him. Tears shone in his eyes as he ripped his shirt off and turned around and around. “Can you see it? Is it back?”

“Back,” Conri rumbled. “A fat berry on a vine.” He shot Bruin a tight smile. “Ah Rhen, I remember it now. Bru, you used to call him raspberry, remember?”

Bruin smiled. He did remember. Back when he and Conri had been cubs and the triplets had just been born. They’d come out of their mother’s belly with their thick, proud marks, and no one had ever believed they would lose them.

Willow held her hand out again. “Who’s next?” she said.

In no time at all, the line of bearen stretched around and around the estate, three hundred strong, all waiting to touch Bruin’s mate, most of them whispering a few words of apology to Bruin before they did so.

The wolven came and took his father away, and yet Bruin never lost his smile, or his satisfaction.