Bearing Armen - Book Three

by Brenna Lyons

  “Then why was I held in Armen range for more than a month?”

  Daniel shrugged, clearing his throat again. “I imagine they felt you were a danger to yourself and your child in your grief. If you weren’t stable, they would have waited until you were to allow you to make choices for yourself.”

  Alyssa nodded. “I wasn’t making good choices the first few days.” For one thing, she would probably always have the faint scar on her hand from the smear of beast blood she hadn’t had the sense of self-preservation to wash off. By the time Sammi had done it for her, it had eaten away her skin entirely.

  He glanced at her hair, then away, but he didn’t comment.

  She smoothed down the spikes, swallowing a lump that would bring tears. “Yeah. That was one of them. It’s growing back in.” Not nearly fast enough for her tastes, though.

  “Why did you—” He grimaced. “Never mind. I shouldn’t ask such personal questions.”

  “It’s okay.” Alyssa stared at her hands, currently white-knuckling the book in her lap. “I wasn’t thinking straight.” She still wasn’t. Putting it into words was difficult. No one had ever asked her why she’d done it. She’d never tried to explain it. “Tom noticed me because of my hair.”

  “And cutting it off meant what to you?”

  The moments before she grabbed the scissors coursed through her mind. It was so complex, and yet it was deceptively simple. “A wish that I could change history.” Alyssa met his questioning eyes. “I... I was wishing I’d never met him...or that he’d never noticed me. Anything that would have meant I wasn’t where I was at that moment...how I was at that moment.”

  It took him only a moment to answer. “That seems perfectly sane to me.”

  Alyssa managed a shaky smile. “Does it?”

  * * * *

  How could she ask that? “Of course, it does. How long did you have with Tom?”

  “Total? Or after we... We never actually married. We’d talked about coming here to do it, but...we only...” She faltered, her brow furrowing over her deep blue eyes.

  “Sealed printing?” he supplied. Alyssa really didn’t know much. It wasn’t natural for a wife to know so little. “Both.”

  “We’d been married...”

  “Sealed,” he reminded her. For some reason, he found himself adamant, yet again, that there was a tremendous difference between the two. Tom hadn’t married her, but that didn’t make her any less his widow.

  “Sealed, I mean. We’d been sealed for less than a month when he died.”

  Daniel tried desperately to hide his shock.

  “He saved me about three weeks before we...sealed.”

  Dear Ani! And, he’d already saddled her with... “How far along were you when he died?”

  Alyssa blushed deeply. “I was just before ovulation when we... At the time, having a baby right away didn’t seem... Most Warriors do. Don’t they?”

  “Many of them,” he forced out. “So, you hadn’t even known for long.”

  She shook her head. “Only a week and a half or so.”

  Daniel tried to grasp the depth of her trauma. She’d only known her husband for a month and a half when he left her, alone and pregnant. How could the gods have allowed something so horrible?

  Alyssa changed the subject again. “What does it mean to have autonomy? I mean, besides being allowed to stay here as long as I’m safe?”

  Didn’t Tom teach her anything outside the bedroom? That was one question he wouldn’t ask her. “Autonomy means you make your own decisions.”

  “What kind of decisions?”

  “Where you live and travel...and work, unless your safety is compromised.” He felt his cheeks heating at the rest, all too aware of what it meant. “And your sexuality. You’re a widow, not a daughter born of a house.”

  She stared at him, apparently lost again.

  “Unlike a daughter of a house, you’re free to choose lovers or another husband without interference of the house you married into...or were born into.”

  “I see,” she replied cryptically. Alyssa seemed lost in contemplation. “So... I could remarry, like any other widow in the world?”

  “Of course.” Had someone told her she couldn’t, or was this some misunderstanding?

  Alyssa remained quiet for several minutes, and Daniel’s nerves jangled in the certainty that something was very wrong. Why would she know so little? And, why was she so certain that she had no rights outside of what was specifically granted to her?

  “I will answer all of your questions,” he vowed. Daniel pulled out a pen and a pocket notebook, writing down his cell phone number. “You can call me any time, day or night. You... You have the right to know everything about our world. You’ve always had that right.”

  She took it, reading the number as if she couldn’t believe what she held. “Thank you, Daniel. You don’t have to do this.”

  “I do...and I want to. Someone should have done this long ago. Before you sealed with Tom, to be sure.”

  Her cheeks went scarlet. “Who?”

  “I don’t think I understand.”

  “Who, besides Tom, would tell me these things?”

  His frustration spiked. “Tom should have, but barring that, his family should have—”

  “But, I never met them before we sealed.”

  Daniel fought for clarity. “He never introduced you to his family?”

  “After, of course. Tom made a point of moving me to the manor when he found out I was pregnant.”

  He was ordered to. Didn’t she know that? Or, did she think she was protecting Tom somehow by glossing over that point? But, that wasn’t the most startling thing. “You met his family for the first time the week before he died?”

  Alyssa nodded, her expression pained. “More or less.”

  “What was his reason for that?” What Warrior didn’t show off his mate? What one didn’t impress family on her from the moment he started printing? Tom Armen, apparently.

  “He was assigned pretty far out. It took us all night to reach the manor. I guess he didn’t visit often.”

  Daniel forced his jaw shut. There was something very wrong here, but he wasn’t sure what it was yet.

  It had taken them all night to reach the manor. There were other cabins and houses that would have been closer, no matter where they were coming from. The ideal was to have a haven no further than every four hours by car.

  Armen was a Warrior-rich range, much more so than either Cross or Maher was, even more rich in manpower than Hunter currently was, despite how low Hunter had been in the days before Corwyn Lord Hunter had taken control of the range. There had to have been another Warrior or three close enough to their location to introduce her to; Tom hadn’t done that...until she was pregnant to him. It was almost as if he’d wanted to keep Alyssa isolated and ignorant, but there was no reason Daniel could fathom to do that.

  Alyssa shot him a nervous look. “Something wrong?”

  Yes! Hell, yes! “No. Nothing at all.” He needed information...a lot more information.

  A brisk knock brought his head around. It was Bear, and it was far too early.

  Alyssa paused in getting to her feet, yawning widely.

  “Let me,” he offered.

  She nodded, sinking back into the couch with a sigh of relief.

  Daniel’s mind worked fast. He’d won a measure of Alyssa’s trust. Losing that now wasn’t acceptable. “Would you like me to come here again...to discuss more of our laws?”

  That seemed to wake her. Alyssa shot him a wary look, distancing herself on the couch.

  Daniel couldn’t help wondering why that would concern her. No time. I’m losing her. He affected a sheepish smile. “Actually... I’d also be interested in raiding your library a bit.”

  She smiled, then chuckled. “A lover of fine literature is always welcome. That was Gi’s law of the house. It would be an affront to her not to live to that now.”

  “You’re off on Sunday, right?”


  Her smile disappeared.

  Bear knocked again, less patient than the first time he had.

  Damn this! I am running out of time and luck here. “I saw the bar’s hours of operation posted in the window,” he explained hurriedly.

  Alyssa nodded, still grave. “I guess Sunday would be okay.”

  He headed for the door. “Five o’clock? I’ll bring dinner.”

  “You don’t have to,” she assured him.

  “Just take-out. It won’t be gourmet. The Colonel good for you?”

  She hesitated, then nodded.

  “Night, Alyssa. Oh, don’t forget to lock this behind me.”

  He didn’t wait for her reply.

  Bear shot him a look of annoyance, as he stepped outside. “Took you long enough.”

  “Yeah. You, too.” Actually, he’d shown up too soon. Daniel would have seriously considered bargaining with the enemy for another hour to get to the bottom of Tom Armen.

  “Is she—”

  The door locked behind Daniel, and Corwyn stopped to listen.

  “Off to bed,” Daniel replied. Alone. Why did that bother him so much? He tried to argue that it bothered him because of the way she ended up alone. How could the gods allow it?

  Bear’s eyes narrowed. “Problem?” he inquired.

  Daniel hesitated, rounding him and heading down the three steps to the street.

  “Danny Boy, this better be good,” he growled.

  Daniel bristled at the reminder of his childhood nickname. “There’s something wrong here, Bear. Something very wrong with this whole thing.”

  “Of course there is,” Bear dismissed him. “Alyssa became a widow when she was barely a bri—”

  “No!” He turned to face his cousin, barely controlling the need to vent Blutjagd. Daniel forced his voice to a conversational tone again. “There is something else. My gut tells me...something worse.”

  Bear shifted uncomfortably. “What else?”

  “I don’t know that yet. The facts just don’t add up. I mean... They seriously don’t add up.”

  “Maybe we better have a talk.”

  Daniel nodded. “Maybe we should.”

  Chapter Thirty-five

  February 12, 2050

  “Find out anything, Kates?” Corwyn asked.

  “A lot, and not much of it makes sense,” his twin replied.

  That niggling sense of unease returned like a blow to the gut. “Hit me.” Why not? I feel like you already have.

  “Everything Daniel reported is accurate. It’s spooky, Bear. I’m talking surreal.”

  “How so?” What Daniel had supplied looked bad enough. Corwyn had the sinking feeling that Kates’ information wasn’t going to make it any better.

  “His gut feeling that it seemed as if Tom was isolating Alyssa?” She paused.

  “Yes?”

  “Well, I didn’t phrase it that way, obviously. I asked how much time Alyssa spent with the family between when she was introduced to them and when Tom died. I...uh...made it seem I was trying to figure out if she’d never formed a bond with them or if her distance was grief-related.”

  “And they said?” he hinted.

  “Tom was head over heels for her, that initial rush where a Warrior is endlessly horny.”

  “Yeah. I know it.” A little too well of late.

  “Or so they thought.”

  “You don’t think so.” He refrained from saying ‘either’ but only just. If there was one thing he didn’t want to do it was lead the investigation into this mess with geared questions and comments.

  “There are too many oversights to ignore. They wrote them off, but I can’t.

  “Tom didn’t introduce Alyssa to his family until he was forced to. He monopolized her time once he did. She never formed a bond with them, because Tom was always whisking her away to their room.

  “He didn’t encourage her to embrace his family...and vice versa, as Warriors typically do. He didn’t... He didn’t tell stories about their printing. He didn’t tell her stories about people sitting in the room with them. They rarely ate at the family table, even after he recovered. When they did, they were typically huddled together and off to some far corner of the house as soon as they’d finished eating.

  “Alyssa always spoke to them in monosyllables. At least, she did after the first time she opened her mouth increased Tom’s sanctions. They—”

  “Wait,” Corwyn interrupted her. “Back up, and run that one past me again. I don’t think I understand what you’re saying.”

  “Tom hadn’t told his father that he’d left Armen range without permission, and without notifying Hunter that he was visiting their range, to pursue Alyssa. They found that delightful little truth out when Debra and Tim asked Alyssa where she’d lived before they printed.”

  Silence fell between them for a moment, as Kates let him digest that fact.

  “You think Alyssa felt responsible for the beating Tom took for it?” It would certainly explain a lot about her reactions.

  “I don’t have a clue. I do, however, think that the trial scared the crap out of her.”

  “But, she didn’t watch it.”

  Kates huffed and waited for him to catch up.

  “But, she saw the aftermath,” he finished.

  “Yes. I saw her after Tom died. I watched her jumping at every shout, paling at every tense moment... Not that anyone did that to her, but... You know Warriors.”

  “Warriors snap,” he agreed. “She was traumatized, Kates.”

  “I thought so, too, but they said she was like that before. They had been giving her time, letting her relax. They’d thought it was the reaction some saved have after an attack, a sort of post-traumatic. The problem was—”

  “She was with them too short a time before Tom died to find out what really caused it,” he surmised.

  “Yes. I can’t write all of this off, Bear. I can’t. Tom was undeniably not acting like a normal Warrior.”

  “It doesn’t add up,” he agreed.

  “Worse than you can know,” Kates sighed.

  His heart pounded in an adrenaline rush. “What else did you find out?”

  “I spoke to Chad.”

  “He was with Tom when he died,” Corwyn recalled. “How is he?” Losing a Warrior you were hunting with was shattering, nearly as bad for a Warrior as losing a protected or an innocent victim was.

  “Yes, he was. Better but still shaky, and...” She groaned, whispering her thanks through the covered receiver, probably to Scott for rubbing her shoulders or back. Her hand moved away and she started talking again. “Chad says Tom was off his game the night he died.”

  “Worse than usual, considering he’s dead,” he grumbled.

  “Much. Tom was all nerves, sloppy. He gave the beast his back.”

  Silence fell between them again. Corwyn found it hard to speak in light of that revelation. “You think he wanted to die.” So much for not leading anyone to conclusions.

  “Hell, yes! I do think it. Now, you tell me why he would. I don’t think a Warrior could or would fake printing. By all accounts, Tom doted on Alyssa. He had a son on the way. It must have been like the Christian Heaven to him. Why the hell would he want to die?”

  “Good question.”

  “Think you can get an answer to it from Alyssa?”

  Corwyn considered the young widow’s nearly-tangible fear of him. “Not me, but maybe someone else can.”

  “What’s up, Bear?”

  “If it pans out, I’ll let you know.”

  Corwyn hung up, then went in search of Daniel. He found his cousin pouring over The Stone’s Words.

  “What are you doing?” he asked. That was a basic text, the sort of thing a trainee would be reading.

  Daniel sighed. “Looking for something I’m never going to find.”

  Corwyn leaned against the doorframe. “For instance?”

  “What the hell Tom Armen was thinking.”

  He smiled. “Great minds t
hink alike, I see. How interesting that we’re on the same wavelength.”

  Daniel didn’t look up from the book. “Then you agree that something is wrong here?”

  “Yes. And I have to ask you something.”

  He looked up, seemingly still lost in the book. “What?”

  Corwyn ambled across the room and settled on the couch across from him. “How did it go last night?”

  “Fine. Alyssa’s responses are off, but I told you that. She’s great, otherwise. She’s friendly, a little lonely. Confused sometimes, but surprisingly together, all things considered. I...like her.” That seemed to disconcert him.

  “I want you to see her again.”

  Daniel blushed deeply.

  “I’m not asking you to spy on her or anything dishonorable like that,” Corwyn hastened to assure him.

  “It’s not that, Bear.” He looked away toward the window, his hand fisting on the edge of the book.

  “Then what is it?”

  “I’m already seeing her again. Tomorrow evening, to be precise.” Daniel glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

  Corwyn fought back shock. “Why?”

  “We share...an interest in books.”

  “Books?”

  Daniel nodded, sheepish. “Fine literature.”

  Corwyn smiled. “I never knew that about you.”

  He scowled. “Can it, Bear. Tell me what you have in mind.”

  Chapter Thirty-six

  February 13, 2050

  “So... Tell me about Tom.”

  The question came from nowhere. Alyssa froze, berating herself yet again for telling Daniel anything that might undermine her rights.

  She’d asked him about herself the other night, but she hadn’t asked about the baby. She had autonomy, but she’d heard Warriors didn’t have that until they were sixteen. Even then, it wouldn’t be full autonomy. Warriors weren’t allowed to choose where they lived and traveled. Tom said a Warrior belonged to his family, that he was, more or less, a piece of equipment, and that ownership started at birth.

  At the moment, Tim Armen was being kind, for whatever reason. What if he wasn’t being kind anymore? Could he take the baby from her? Could he demand his grandson live in Armen range, with or without his mother?