Roaring Up the Wrong Tree Page 25

  Trista whimpered, her hand going to her throat, and Keen’s heart ached for his mate. Tear after tear coursed down her cheeks, leaving shining trails on her skin. “Her neck, her face.” The words trembled, but they were loud enough to draw the male’s attention. “She had a scar for as long as I could remember.” Trista touched with three fingers, starting at her temple, she drew a line down along her jaw, digits spreading as she lowered her hand. “It…” She hesitated and then finished. “It would have bled a lot. Even now, I don’t know how she survived.”

  Malcolm’s panicked voice rose. “That doesn’t prove anything. That doesn’t mean I cut the bitch. It hit her jugular, she was dead. She was—”

  Terrence’s roar was the loudest he’d ever heard, even louder than Keen’s own. “Silence!” Not even the birds dared disobey the Southeast Itan. The moment the echoing roar quieted, Terrence spoke again. “Release him to me.”

  Keen saw one of the guards raise an eyebrow, but he did as his leader directed and pushed Malcolm into the Southeast Itan’s arms.

  “Come, Malcolm. You and I have your sentence to discuss.” Terrence sounded calm, but the claw-tipped fingers digging into the flesh of Malcolm’s neck belied the soft tone. Amidst Malcolm’s whimpers, the Southeast Itan paused to give another of his entourage one last order. “Come find me in an hour. It should be done by then and I’ll deal with Reid Bennett when I return.”

  Silence followed the two men. No questions needed to be voiced. Everyone knew that two men walked into the forest and only one would walk out.

  * * *

  When Reid was brought to the front yard and forced to kneel on the gravel, Trista was disappointed to see he wasn’t battered or bloody. He was worn, tired, and appeared defeated, but still in one piece.

  Damn it.

  After hearing the battle in the forest, the roars of the two fighting bears—Malcolm and Terrence—as well as watching several trees disappear from the landscape, Trista’s inner-animal was craving blood. It disgusted yet excited her, the beast wanting to see the male die while her human half fought to hold back the heaving of her stomach.

  But regardless of her desires, one emotion cut through them all. Happiness. She was glad Malcolm was being punished, she was glad Quinn would be forced to pay the price for his involvement, and she was glad Reid would face Terrence’s wrath.

  She’d never been this bloodthirsty before. Now she wanted to kick them all for turning her into a raging, violent bitch.

  Terrence strode from the forest, almost exactly sixty minutes after he’d entered, and he looked the same. His polo shirt didn’t have a single wrinkle and the crease in his khaki pants was sharp and crisp. He buckled his watch as he emerged, shaking his arm to settle it in place. Not even his face was flushed with the strain of battle.

  He looked like any well-dressed sixty-year-old man taking a stroll.

  Trista glanced at his family—her family?—to see their reactions and they appeared more bored than anything else. As if they knew the outcome and were ready to move along with the proceedings.

  As soon as the Southeast Itan drew close, the youngest of his sons cut through the waiting silence with a whine. “Daaad, I’m hungry.”

  Instead of snapping at his child, he sighed. “Drew, you’re always hungry. Lemme deal with Reid and then we can talk Gigi into feeding us.”

  “You can just order her to. You’re the Southea—”

  “Quiet,” Terrence barked.

  The kid didn’t even act cowed. He merely slumped the way kids do when they’re annoyed, shoulders falling and head lolling back.

  It was surreal, watching the man’s family and guards treat him like any other bear, father, when he’d just dispatched Malcolm. They were crazy.

  Keen leaned down to her, his warm breath stirring her hair. “They look at you the same way.”

  She glanced at him, brow furrowed. “What?”

  “They see me, they see how quickly I lose control. Then they look at you, at you touching me and not caring that five minutes ago I was ready to tear anyone to shreds. They wonder if you’ve lost your mind.”

  Trista narrowed her eyes. The animal part of her was ready to tell everyone that her mate was the sweetest thing since hot chocolate by carving the words into their skin. “It’s not like you’re going to hurt me.”

  “And he’s not going to hurt anyone who doesn’t deserve it. They know that.”

  Trista drew the connection, seeing that violence and death didn’t necessarily mean everyone’s death. Just those who broke the law. Otherwise, Terrence Jensen was just… Terrence Jensen, mate, father… uncle.

  She wasn’t ready to think of him that way. Not yet.

  “Get him on his feet.” Terrence’s voice whipped through the air.

  Two burly guards hauled Reid to standing. The Alpha shrugged off their holds and then straightened fully. She sensed the man’s power, felt it swirl over the ground. Fear trailed down her spine, sending a tremor through her body. It was menacing and dark and she could see why Reid Bennett ruled the wolves.

  The Southeast Itan changed then; he shrugged off the mantle of father and friend and shrugged into the role of leader. He strode up to the Alpha, met him toe-to-toe and nose-to-nose as if he didn’t fear the large male. Then again, why should he? Even if Terrence was older, he was still stronger, faster, and the rage inside him definitely gave him an edge. The emotion was palpable, encompassing the area, digging into everything and she felt her animal cower in its presence.

  “You killed my sister.” The tone seemed calm, but the words were hard.

  “My Beta killed your sister.”

  “At your orders.”

  Reid shook his head. “It was his decision. He acted of his own accord. A purge was ordered, it was his method of handling the process.”

  “And you didn’t stop him,” Terrence countered. “You, as a leader, are responsible for every wolf in your pack. How many died because of your indifference, Alpha?” The title was a slur, a mockery of its true purpose.

  “I stopped him, but not soon enough.” Did she hear a hint of remorse in the Alpha’s tone? No, no way. She’d seen him as nothing but a monstrous brute for so many years. She didn’t think he had a regretful bone in his body.

  “How many?”

  Reid didn’t answer right away and the Itan roared. “How. Many?”

  “Too many.” The Alpha bit off the words.

  “And you didn’t think to notify the families?” Terrence’s words were soft, but Reid flinched.

  “No. They were all—”

  “They weren’t.”

  Trista knew what he was trying to say. Trying to express that those Morgan killed were hyenas. It was a purge, it was allowed, and there was no law that said they couldn’t kill those they found. But it’d been so many years since a purge had been handled that way.

  “Now.” Terrence managed to somehow get closer. The two males faced off, gazes locked, but it was Reid who looked away first. “Tell me why you hunted my half-sister, a half-werebear, and her daughter, one-quarter werebear, for over twenty years?”

  Trista had the same question, the same burning need to understand. She accepted that she was Brigham Scott’s daughter. She accepted that she was half hyena. But one-quarter werebear? And her mother was half? She’d only scented “mom” when she hugged her mother close and it’d always been tinged with a hint of her own hyena scent. She’d never connected the dots and realized the hint of something extra was her mom’s inner-bear.

  Her world shifted, jarring and shaking her as this new information clicked into place.

  Reid said, “The bond between wolves and bears is new. And she scented more like a hyena than a bear. I realize now it was because of her constant contact with Trista and the hyena pack. She doesn’t even have your last name.”

  “She carried her mother’s,” Terrence snapped back.

  “I didn’t know she was your—”

  Emotions she’d buried, ones that
she’d shoved aside and pushed to the back of her mind, surged. She was moving before she realized she’d tensed. Agony tore through her, scraping her heart and churning her gut. Pain, oh God, the pain assaulted her, spurring her to go faster, to push her body.

  She shoved Terrence aside as if he were merely a flower dancing in the wind. He stumbled and while the Itan was distracted, she pounced on the wolf Alpha.

  He wasn’t expecting it, wasn’t anticipating someone like her, someone small and fragile, to attack him head on—this wasn’t a sneaky confrontation with a rock in hand—but she did. She went after him with human nails and blunted teeth and she sobbed. She cried. Hate and grief poured from her heart, transferring into the prone male with every strike and punch.

  She didn’t know what she said, didn’t know what she screamed and yelled as she did her best to destroy him. Words flew, soaking the air with her sounds, but the syllables didn’t matter; only Reid Bennett did.

  Trista wasn’t sure how long they let her pummel him, how long they allowed her to vent her grief and frustrations on him, but rough hands pulled at her. They tugged and yanked until she was lifted from the Alpha. Still she fought, battling the limbs holding her captive.

  “It shouldn’t matter!” She yanked against the fingers encircling her bicep. “She was a person! She was a living, breathing mother!” She strained, aching to be free. “Decent human beings don’t go around killing people!” Warm arms wrapped around her, stealing her pain, washing it away with the single embrace. Keen. Her Keen, her mate. Her bone-deep anguish settled with his touch and she slumped into his arms, uncaring about the tears coursing down her cheeks. “We’re just people.” She slumped into Keen’s arms, letting him support her, and her voice fell to a hoarse whisper. “Hyena or bear, we’re just people. Why can’t you see that?”

  Her mate tugged her back, urged her to turn in his arms, and she buried her face against his chest. He stroked her back, soothing her with his touch, but she wasn’t sure she’d settle. Her nerves were alive, buzzing and twitching. Raw and exposed, she didn’t think she’d ever calm again.

  The rough scrape of movement, the crunch of gravel, told her Reid climbed to his feet once again, but she couldn’t face him. Not yet, not ever again.

  “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

  She was empty, empty of caring and feeling and drained from it all. She pulled her face from Keen’s sanctuary and looked to Reid, glared at his depressed form, at the paleness of his features. “It’s worth nothing. Your words are worth nothing. A man, a person, is measured by his actions, the way he affects the world. You could have made it a better place, you command an entire pack. Now,” she shook her head. “Your very existence means absolutely nothing.”

  Trista clung to Keen, using him as her support. Her heart was broken, but she knew he’d help glue her back together. “Take me inside. I can’t do this anymore.”

  In a split second, she was in her mate’s arms and she clutched his shoulders. The crowd parted for them, leaving an open path to the front door. She didn’t care about what went on, she just wanted to be held by Keen.

  “Trista?” Terrence called to her and Keen stopped, slowly turning until they faced the Southeast Itan. “Debra was my sister, and she was your mother. I can’t end his life for allowing her death, not even for his attack on you and Keen, but I can inflict a non-fatal punishment as I deem fit.”

  Trista looked at Reid, stared at the man who’d allowed so much to crumble, and realized she was just… done.

  She turned her attention to Keen, searching his gaze for a hint of his feelings, but he was quick to give her words. “Whatever you want, Tris. Whatever will help settle things for you.”

  She nodded and, not tearing her eyes from her mate, spoke to Terrence. “I want to know where my mother was put to rest and then I want him out of Georgia. He’s an Alpha, I can’t do anything about that, but I can’t look at him. I don’t care where he goes or what he does, but I can’t turn the corner and find him on the street.” Tears, God she’d never cried so much in her life, sprang to her eyes. “I just can’t.”

  No one moved, it felt as if no one even breathed, until the Southeast Itan spoke once again. “As you wish. Take him.”

  She assumed he spoke to the guards, but it didn’t matter because they were moving again, Keen carrying her to the house, up the stairs, and across the porch. Their movement seemed to be permission for the others to move as well.

  The scrape of stones and booted feet on the gravel overwhelmed the front yard and the scent of Keen’s family slipped around them. The brothers and their mates, their parents, all followed her and Keen into the house. They made it to the entryway and a handful of steps down the hallway before a few words had them all freezing in place. Shock from both the words and their meaning made them all speechless. Because 1) they came from Mia and 2)… they came from Mia.

  “Oh fuck, my water broke.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Keen held Trista in his lap, one arm curled around her back, hand resting on her hip while the other hand twined with hers. Her head was pressed to his shoulder and he’d never known such comfort. The house was a whirlwind of activity, people racing through the space, but they had their own sanctuary here. Tucked in a corner of the living room, hidden from those who rushed by.

  The moment Mia’s amniotic fluid hit the ground, Isaac took over. His brother was no longer merely there as emotional support for him and Trista, he was now a general in command. Orders were barked and immediately followed, shifters racing to execute the Healer’s directions.

  Terrence kept his guards out of the way and occupied them with preparing the prisoners for transport. Keen wasn’t sure why Reid was being hauled in with Quinn instead of escorted out of state, but he didn’t care.

  Trista was quiet, simply breathing him in as they waited for things to settle and then the real waiting would begin. At least, that’s what his father said. That was just before the man escaped and he heard the back door thump shut.

  The heavy tread of an approaching male had him raising his head and searching out the source of the sound. Terrence neared them, four guards in his wake who took up position by the entry to the living room and the massive window that revealed the front yard.

  The Southeast Itan looked tired, exhausted really. Bags hung beneath his eyes, making him look even older than his sixty years. He settled on the coffee table before them and rested his elbows on his knees.

  No one said a word for a while, quiet invading the area while the chatter of the others in the house drifted to them from the kitchen.

  Keen glanced at Trista and found her eyes closed, but he knew she wasn’t asleep. Tension still had her muscles hard beneath his hands.

  Terrence sighed. “This… did not go as anticipated.”

  Trista snorted, betraying herself, and Keen pressed a kiss to the top of her head. When it came to his mate, he couldn’t keep his lips to himself.

  “You think?” Her voice wobbled, but he didn’t notice another round of tears. It tore his heart out to see those droplets of moisture in her eyes. She raised her head and turned toward her uncle. “What did you expect?”

  The Southeast Itan wove his fingers together. “I expected to find my Keeper causing problems with the assistance of my Second. At worst, I was going to give them shit and shove them in a cell for a while. I also expected to warn off a wolf who was getting too big for his britches.” His eyes softened, affection sliding over the hardened gaze. “I wasn’t expecting to find my niece. They sent me a picture of you but,” he shook his head. “I buried your mother over thirty years ago.”

  A shudder traveled through his mate, but she remained strong. Man, he loved her. Loved her strength. She’d lost her mind a few times today, but she’d beat that part of herself into submission as well. He wasn’t sure how she managed to keep a hyena and bear at bay inside her small body, but she did.

  Just… amazing.

  “Did he tell you wha
t I wanted to know?”

  Terrence nodded. “Yes. He at least knew that.”

  Another tremor, but she held it together. “I want to go there. I want to see.”

  “Whenever you’re ready.”

  No one said anything else and Keen sank into the silence. It wasn’t strained or charged with tension. They’d all expended whatever energy they had in the last few hours. Now it was simple exhaustion that overtook them.

  At least, for a moment. Because then the Itan spoke again, his words hesitant, but they came forward anyway. “I have something I’d like to discuss with you two.”

  Keen focused on the male, eyes taking in the lines of his posture and the expression on his face with renewed interest. That type of statement was never followed with good news and he was poised to defend Trista if needed. He’d shield her physically, and emotionally, for the rest of his life. Even if that meant keeping this powerful man away from her.

  “I came here to settle the issue with you two, but I also needed to see Mia’s father. He made a decision recently, as did Isaac, that affects the family and Cutler.” Terrence paused as if searching for the right words. “They’re returning to Grayslake. Permanently. Which means Cutler is without a Guardian, a temporary leader, until Parker turns twenty-five.”

  Keen did not like where this was headed and neither did his bear. With Trista’s further stiffening, it seemed she’d jumped to the same conclusion.

  She spoke before he could. “No, we’re not going anywhere.”

  “Hear me out before you say no.”

  Keen didn’t need to hear a thing. He didn’t want to leave Grayslake even if happy memories were few. He was making his own happiness with Trista in their new house. That’s all there was to it.