32. On One Condition

32

On One Condition

GLEN

T he training yard outside the tent was filled with what looked like the entire pack, thousands of shifters congregating around the fighting ring where my father waited, his Alpha energy pulsing from him as he stood beside my brother. The night was lit up by torches and lanterns, shadows dancing in the nearby woods.

Shadows lay over my own thoughts as I wondered again how I'd been so fooled. I'd believed my pack was honorable. I'd been blind to the horrors our weakest members had experienced, ignorant because of my own privilege, the distance my position had provided.

I could hardly look at my father now without recoiling. I needed to leave Northern as soon as I could, and find a new home.

Flor is our home, my wolf murmured.

It was true. My wolf was ready to shift and run, as long as we were running alongside our mate.

Patrick stood next to my father in the ring, his sword drawn and stance aggressive, the list of abusive shifters and their crimes crumpled in his other hand. He was panting, stiff with anger, as he threw the balled-up paper at Erik, one of the Enforcers I genuinely liked.

Erik was facing Patrick down, his own sword in one hand. By the moon, I hoped his name was not on that list.

"Stand down, Enforcer," Dad ordered him.

Erik obeyed immediately, sheathing his sword. "Alpha, Patrick says you've stripped over two dozen shifters—some of them Enforcers—of their rank, effective immediately. That they've been accused of crimes, and I'm to round them up for judgment."

"I suggest you follow my son's instructions," Dad replied, picking up the list and reading it, his concerned gaze moving to Patrick.

My brother's face kept shifting, teeth lengthening and fur sprouting along his jawline. He was as close to losing control of his wolf as I'd ever seen him. What had he read? What had he discovered?

My mother slipped out of the tent behind us, and Dad gestured to her, his expression growing grimmer as he read the list. "Margarette, we'll need the silver blade."

She nodded, then returned to the house, the crowd parting smoothly for her. The ceremonial blade hadn't been used since the war, as far as I knew. It was stored in Dad's private office, and I'd only seen it once, back when he was teaching me what it meant to be an Alpha, or the Heir to one.

That sometimes protecting the pack meant cutting out the rot.

"Who made these accusations?" Erik demanded. "Those Enforcers are some of our most valuable fighters, and the rogues?—"

Dad's eyes narrowed. "Erik, are you challenging me?'

"What? No, Alpha!" His shock was genuine. "But we can't afford to lose ranked wolves, not now." He wasn't wrong, but those wolves had to be culled.

Patrick shouted, his muscles rippling strangely, "We can't afford to have them in this pack. I will tear them out, all of them!" He dropped to all fours, breathing heavily.

A dark-haired shifter I vaguely recognized, a young woman with a leather collar who normally worked in the unranked housing with the children, crept closer to him and murmured something.

"What is her name?" I muttered, mostly to myself.

"Kristin Star." Flor's whisper was just loud enough for me to hear. "Patrick's… Well, Patrick has a thing for her." She was leaving something out, but I let it go.

Whatever the girl was saying to my brother wasn't helping. Patrick still fought the change, snarling at the others around them when they milled closer.

"Everyone down," Dad called. When only a few shifters obeyed, he repeated himself, a huge upwelling of Alpha power in his voice. The only people left standing were me, Brand, and Flor.

The crowd, now seated or kneeling, began to protest. I could see better now, and realized there were unranked women in a group on one side, circled around a group of our youngest. All of them were armed with what looked like butcher's knives, rolling pins, and steak knives.

Dad spoke again, every ounce of his dominance coming down on the gathered shifters. " Silence. "

Behind me, Flor whispered something to Brand, and I almost smiled. But Patrick's situation was worrying me. I walked over and laid a hand on his shoulder, helping him to his feet. "What's wrong?"

"They hurt her," he rasped. "One of them…"

My blood went cold as I realized what he meant. "Who is she?"

His eyes, glinting a bright blue, fell on the young woman who'd spoken to him. She had somehow managed to crawl back to the other unranked women and was crouched at the edge of the circle, a knife in each hand, her teeth bared at the ranked shifters around her.

"Kristin Star. My mate-to-be," Patrick managed to whisper, then let out a quiet howl of agony. I felt my own teeth sharpen, and tightened my grip on him.

"They must all die," Dad announced, his voice filled with power.My wolf let out a silent snarl of agreement, as we watched Dad read the list silently, his expression growing tighter with every second. "Every single one."

Dad handed the list to me, and I took it, skimming the contents quickly and feeling sicker with each name. Each crime.

I'd been so blind. I bowed my head to my brother's mate-to-be, deep sorrow filling me, and even deeper shame. "We will kill them all," I promised.

"Leave some for me," Flor whispered, moving to my side. "Or at least one." She slipped her hand in mine, and I swallowed hard at how perfect it felt. How necessary her support was right now, even if I didn't deserve it.

I would someday. I would earn a place at her side.

I squeezed her hand. "Which one do you want?"

"I'll take the traitorous bitch in the back," she said, pointing at a familiar woman who was being held by two Enforcers. Clara, her hair a tangled mess around her muddy, blood-streaked face, wearing the same cocktail dress she'd had on when she and Vanessa betrayed our pack. I'd never wanted to kill a woman before, but this one had my wolf foaming at the mouth.

Dad spoke again, louder, and we all fell silent. "Northern, I learned today that my pack has evil at its very core, and I take full responsibility for harboring it, giving it a place to flourish. In my misguided efforts to protect our weaker wolves, and our women, I allowed great harm to come to them.

"I allowed shifters who had no honor to stand with their feet on the necks of the very ones they swore to protect. While all along, they were torturing them in private, in the dark, like the cowards they are. But no more. Tonight, I am cutting the rot out, with teeth and claws. Each one of the accused will be given one chance to speak truthfully, under my power, to the accusations made against them.

"If they admit the crime, they will die by silver, a quick death. If they attempt to deceive or run, they will fall to the claws and knives of the pack they betrayed." He gestured to the unranked women. "Come forward." They shuffled closer as a group, their knives still drawn. Even the smallest of them had some sort of weapon in their hands.

My heart fell when I recognized the little girl who stood in the very heart of the group: Daisy. The women were protecting her, as if even our children were at risk.

I wanted to howl, to rage like Patrick. Instead, I held still. The air was filled with a grim expectation.

"Child," Dad murmured. "You don't need that knife. I promise I'll keep you safe."

Daisy shook her head, shocking everyone around her. A shifter child standing up to an Alpha was unheard of.

"You may speak," Dad said quietly.

Daisy answered clearly, "I do need it, Alpha. The Alpha's Protector said we could have them. This way, the mean ones can't hurt us anymore."

"The mean ones?" Dad asked, his voice breaking.

"The ‘Forcers that hurt my friends."

The energy in the clearing was so tense, it was almost painful to breathe. Dad closed his eyes for a second, and I noticed that he was having trouble controlling his own shift now. "Patrick, Erik? I need you to help bring the named Enforcers and shifters into the training ring. You know who you can trust? Have them bring all the chains they can find."

Patrick glanced toward Kristin, then nodded, his movements stiff as he moved away, like it hurt him to go. I knew the feeling.

Dad went on. "Brand Becker, the Northern pack would like to formally request your assistance. Can you please stand with my Heir and guard these unranked shifters while I bring the accused to face the charges?"

"I'm not your Heir, Dad," I murmured, perhaps not quietly enough. A few of the nearby shifters began to whisper, and their eyes drilled into me.

Dad's jaw worked, and he swallowed. "With my son, then," he corrected.

"Of course," Brand replied.

Dad tore his gaze away. "Flor? Will you also guard our pack's most vulnerable while I…"

"While you clean house? Of course." Flor pulled her hand out of mine, and I tried not to whine. "On one condition."

Dad blinked at her, then me. I just shrugged.

Her smile, when it came, wasn't sweet. It was a baring of her own sharp teeth, and her wolf filled her voice with a growl that resonated in my soul. "You'll let me have Clara to punish."

I knew what Dad's answer would be before he gave it. Flor couldn't dole out justice on our behalf. She wasn't a member of Northern anymore.

Officially, she'd never been a full member, since she'd never had her rank assigned in our pack. She'd become Brand's mate and gone from Northern pack member-to-be, to de facto Mountain pack member the instant his teeth had sunk home.

Though, come to think of it, she and Finn had a bond as well. Was she half-Mountain, half-Eastern now? My stomach churned. What I wouldn't give to have my own mark next to theirs. To have her small teeth in my neck.

To know she found me worthy.

"You're a Mountain shifter now, Flor," Dad said, almost gently. "This has to be Northern justice." He stood beside Patrick and Erik as they tapped a number of the Enforcers nearby to help them. By the time they began moving through the milling crowd, the Alpha had about three dozen burly Enforcers—trusted ones, all of them friends of mine—helping with the task.

To my surprise, Dad went with them, his Alpha power still forcing the closest shifters to their knees as he moved through the crowd of what had to be close to the entire pack, at least eighteen hundred wolves.

I'd been relieved as hell to see none of my closest pack members were on the list of criminals. But I'd been sickened at who was on it, and what they'd done. None of our unranked wolves had been able to hide like Flor had, and the abuses ranged from theft of their blankets and possessions, to physical and sexual assault.

A lot of shifters were about to die, and needed to.

"I didn't want Northern justice," Flor muttered grumpily. "I wanted Southern revenge. Give me a half hour with Clara, some duct tape, a jar of honey, and a fire ant mound, and I'll be your guard bitch for however long you need."

Brand let out a low chuckle, while I kneeled beside Daisy. Her small face tipped up to mine fearlessly, reminding me even more of Flor. This little shifter, the orphaned child of two unranked wolves, was the future of the pack. We had to keep her safe, even if it meant culling a hundred ranked abusers.

I tapped the end of her nose with one finger. "I think there may be things you should not see happening here soon, little wolf. Maybe you could go into the tent and help Ralen and Christophe, the two men who were hurt? There's a platter full of cookies and brownies that needs to be finished—" I stopped speaking as Daisy ran to the tent.

"That's a good place for her," Flor noted. "One entrance, easily guarded." She stepped back a few paces to be closer to the tent, resting a hand on her sword hilt. Brand and I followed her, as if an invisible magnetic force pulled us close.

Maybe one did.

"The other unranked women might also like to go into the tent as well," Brand began, but Kristin stood and spat on the dirt of the training ring.

"Are you joking? Miss the chance to see the nightmares end? Fuck that. I'll stay awake for days, paint myself in their blood."

I was impressed again at her strength, and repulsed at the lie the leather choker on her neck told the world. She couldn't hold Brand's gaze, but had been able to stand while most of the other shifters were still on their knees.

"I like her," Flor told Brand. "I wish you could come to Mountain with us, Kristin. Get you the hell out of here."

"Maybe you can ask," Kristin replied, but her gaze flitted to where Patrick had gone.

"You'll find your place here. You're my brother's?—"

The young woman's eyes went dull. "I'm his nothing. He won't want me."

My heart broke. I'd seen what was written on the list, the assaults that had begun about a year before, when she was barely eighteen, and lasted until only days ago, when her attacker choked to death on his own spit.

Flor stepped closer, pulling the girl's chin up with a gentle hand so their faces were only inches away. "You're not nothing, Kristin. You're a badass, and you're about to be an Enforcer, if I guess right. If you stay here, you'll be one of the shifters who'll change this pack. You can make it what they promised. A refuge."

Kristin nodded, tears shining in her hazel eyes.

"But if any shifter—even an Alpha Heir—doesn't see how fucking valuable you are, even with that leather around your neck? Even without anyone telling you that you're worthy? Cut off his nuts and feed them to him one at a time." Flor dropped her hand to the steak knife that Kristin held, and adjusted the young woman's grip. "Hold it like this, so you don't accidentally slice your thumb when you're nut-cutting, okay?"

Kristin's tiny smile was all the answer she gave, but it was enough.

"You'll be all right," Flor said gently. "And if you ever doubt yourself, know that I think you're a fucking inspiration."

With every word, my brother's future mate stood a little straighter, her gaze a bit clearer. I'd seen how the unranked shifters had watched Flor from a distance, like she was some beacon of hope. She was. She practically vibrated with a fierce determination to get Kristin to feel proud of herself, not ashamed.

Flor was a wonder. She reminded me of the strongest shifters I'd ever seen, and the most compassionate. Bloodthirsty when the situation called for it, gentle when she could be. She was everything a man could dream of and want, far more than one could deserve.

Then she turned her head, her red hair falling around her face, her eyes flashing amber fire, and I spoke before thinking.

"I love you."

Flor's eyes went wide, her lips forming a small O of surprise. My heart skipped a beat when I realized I'd just declared my love for Flor, for my best friend's mate, right in front of him and the entire pack.

Everyone left in the training ring froze. Flor's jasmine and cinnamon scent blossomed in the night air, rising along with the fire in my cheeks. I'd slipped once before back at Southern, and told her it was just an expression. But the words had been fighting to spill out ever since.

I wasn't ashamed. I did love her.

Fuck it.

I took a deep, steadying breath and repeated it, so she would know this wasn't a mistake. So they would all know. "I love you, Flor. I'll never love any other woman. You're my true mate, and I love you completely."

Brand's hand crashed down on my back, his fingers gripping the back of my neck just shy of painful. "Not the moment, brother. Not the fucking time."

I winced, but didn't look away from Flor, until she bit her lower lip. "All the stress has gotten to him. He's cracked. There's no other explanation," she murmured, maybe to herself.

Kristin snorted. "I mean, there's one explanation…" She muttered two words that might have been, "Magical koozie."

Wait… Coochie?

Flor sneered at her, but didn't snap out a sassy answer. Instead, she shrugged. "Must not be too magical." She glanced at Brand, a whole private conversation in that one moment.

Maybe not that private. I had a feeling I knew what she was hinting at.

He hadn't been inside her bedroom, not once, since they'd mated. I may have been glad about it before, but now I saw that it had made Flor doubt herself. That would not fucking do.

"Idiot," I grumbled as Brand let go of me. "It's always time to tell the woman you love exactly how you feel."

"Glen, Brand doesn't—" Flor started, but stopped mid-word when Brand gathered her up in his arms, growling.

"Words," he muttered. "Love's not words." He nuzzled his beard into her neck. "Love is actions. Acts of service. Sacrifice." He whispered almost too quietly to hear, "Love is showing you how perfect you are, making sure you know you're the queen of my life. I made a mistake, not showing you. But I do, Flor. I do."

Flor was blushing redder than me now, her gaze flickering to me while her arms wrapped around Brand's massive torso. He kissed her, and I watched, a mixture of jealousy and satisfaction filling me as Brand worshiped her lips.

I would kiss her like that someday, if she let me. I would do whatever it took to earn that privilege.

"Save it for the lake, Bearman," Flor whispered after a moment, pulling away quickly when shouts in the distance attracted our attention.

" Get back here! " Dad's voice carried over the crowd's noise, and I realized some of the accused had made a break for the woods.

Erik and Dad must have followed, since Patrick and some of the other trusted Enforcers returned. They began forcing a group of the accused shifters into a ragged line inside the ring, each of them held immobile by my dad's command and by chains.

Patrick shouted for attention, answering the shocked demands from some of the gathered shifters to explain why their friends were in chains. "They're here to receive justice for what they've done to our most vulnerable," Patrick growled. "To answer for the crimes they've committed in our own pack."

"Who accuses us?" one of the chained men demanded.

"Our newest Enforcers, shifters who almost lost their lives in the bombing. Who showed bravery when they gave testimony of your rapes, theft, and abuse." He gestured to the tent, and I heard muttering about Ralen and Christophe. Patrick nodded to me, his attention on the prisoners, until Dad called for him to help with another group. "Watch them," Patrick told me.

I nodded back, my focus on the fifteen or so burly shifters in chains, until another shifter was dragged forward and dropped with the others by two of our senior Enforcers.

She wasn't chained, but she lay still for a long moment on the packed earth, until she peered up at me through her tangled hair with tear-filled eyes.

Clara.