by Nancy Gideon
He said nothing, not even blinking.
“So,” she continued quietly, “I can imagine how you felt thinking your king and your brother’s mate were guilty of betraying those who loved them. That’s what you believed to be true, isn’t it?”
His gaze flew about the room, unable to settle anywhere because of the three involved. “I’m sorry, my queen. I never wanted to hurt you.”
“But it hurt you, didn’t it? Carrying that secret.”
“That lie, you mean,” Cale interrupted. “What the hell made you think I was screwing her?”
Sylvia reared back in indignation. “Or that I’d ever consider it? Where did get an idea like that?”
“From you, when you came to my room the night you . . . left. I tried to get you to talk to Row, but you said it was something he could never forgive you for.” He flushed deeply, dredging through his drunken memories. “I wasn’t at my best. You said something about staying at Cale’s, and that was the only thing I could think of.”
“You were wrong,” she told him quietly then shook her head. “It had nothing to do with him. It was my past, things I’ve since confessed. Colin, why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because you’re my friend, and I’d die before I’d break your confidence.”
Both women got teary and hugged him while Cale rolled his eyes. “So are we done with all the drama? Nobody’s screwing around on anybody. All apologies accepted. Right? All good?”
Colin said nothing as the two females stepped back after bestowing kisses on his rough cheeks.
“Great,” Cale sighed. “Ladies, excuse us. I need to talk to my brother, the martyr.”
The women complied, Kendra squeezing his hand, Sylvia his butt before closing the door. Colin remained unmoving, posture guarded, features unreadable until Cale threw up his hands.
“Okay. Enough. Come clean with whatever has you ready to self-immolate to soothe your over-active conscience.” When his brother said nothing, Cale was forced to guess. “Were you planning to go all dark-side with Jamie?”
“No! Of course, not.”
“Were you and Sylvia planning to get into some hot and heavy action behind Row’s back?”
“No!”
“So what does that leave? A Guedry wearing your mark?”
The color bleached from Colin’s face, but his voice was strong and steady. "I've lied to you, my king. I've been involved with Mia Guedry since that first night. I never stopped seeing her. I never stopped wanting her. I wanted to be with her, and I didn't care that she was our enemy."
"Have you been giving her sensitive information that might harm our clan?"
His gaze went huge and horrified. "No, my king!"
"So, what do you want me to do about this?"
He lowered his eyes too quickly to catch the tug of Cale's smile. "Whatever you see fit."
"And do you think there's anything I could do to you that would be worse than what you've been putting yourself through on my behalf?"
"What?" He looked up again in surprise.
"I know you, brother. You've been beating yourself bloody over . . . what? Hormones? For how long? What more could I do?"
"I'm in love with her, Cale. I want to be with her."
"Are you asking my permission? A little late since you’re already bonded.” He waved off Colin’s need for more humbling. “You can do whatever you choose, Col. I won't demand anything from you that you can't freely give. But you realize this isn't like Row and Sylvia."
"I know."
"You can't bring her here to live among us."
"I know," he replied more quietly.
"Is this what you want? To be separated from your family?"
A sad smile and a rare confession. "I was torn away from them when I was fourteen."
Cale took a big breath and exhaled noisily. "So, Rueben's going to invite you to join them in Memphis?"
A snorting laugh. "Hell no. We'll stay in New Orleans and work for our clans from there. We'll never not be who we are."
"You're a prince in the House of Terriot, and you’re our brother. That’ll never change."
Colin nodded.
“And the other thing?” After he let his brother squirm for a satisfying moment, Cale sighed. “Damned if you and Row aren’t the two most self-righteously honest folks I know. He told me about Wes.”
“Cale, I never meant—”
“Col, I know what was in your heart, and I’m not going to let you tear yourself up over it. I came to terms with what I had to do to Michael to save Kendra. I know. Wes made his own decisions. Stop questioning yours.”
Easier said than accomplished.
He reached for Colin’s right hand, examining the patchwork of scars, testing his grip. “Savoie does good work. You good?” At his nod, Cale clasped his shoulder. “Good. Because I need you and Row to help me hold things together. He’s going to step into Abel’s role, if you’re sure you don’t want it.”
“I’m sure. I can serve you better in New Orleans. I have a feeling you’re going to need me there sooner than you think.”
Colin sat on the stairs leading down to the game room. Noise from his family gathering filtered down like a whisper compared to the roar of his guilt. Cale’s pardon wasn’t the one he needed to absolve his culpability.
He glanced up at the sound of a soft step. Sylvia’s hand curved beneath his chin, holding him so she could settle a kiss on his furrowed brow.
“It’s okay,” she told him, settling on the step beside him, her arms circling him loosely.
“You don’t know what I’ve done.” His words rasped with shame and regret.
“Yes, I do. Row told me. And even if he hadn’t, I’d have read it in your eyes the minute you looked me.”
“I’m sorry, Sylvie.”
“I know you are. And I’m not going to let you punish yourself. Wes is the only one to blame here.”
“He loved you, Sylvie. He forced me to do what I did so you wouldn’t be stained by his actions. Only Cale, Row and I know the truth, and we’re not saying anything to anyone.”
“I don’t deserve three such protective men.”
“Yes, you do.”
“I’ll accept that if you’ll accept the fact that none of this is on you. I knew, or at least suspected, that he was involved with Jamie. I didn’t want to believe that he would harm his brothers or me just to wear that crown. I’ll forgive myself if you’ll forgive yourself. Deal?”
A long beat of silence then his gruff, “Deal.”
“C’mon. I’m hungry and I need coffee.”
She tugged and he stood, allowing her to drag him back up to where his family gathered. Letting himself absorb the familiar warmth of connection until his dragging soul began to lighten.
Cale stood at the end of their long table, raising his cup high to proclaim, “To Colin, prince in the House of Terriot.” Just as other cups and glasses began to lift, he added with booming conviction, “And his princess, Mia Guedry.”
Absolute silence.
Colin didn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.
Turow stood. “To Colin and Mia!”
Then Kendra, Sylvia, Kip and even Rico joined him, echoing, “Colin and Mia, prince and princess in the House!”
One by one, his brothers all stood along with their mates, each repeating the toast until the sound filled the hall and that empty space in Colin’s heart that only family could occupy.
Except for one small hole.
Out of habit, the thumb of his left hand rubbed the palm of his right, searching over the new scars and new flesh for an old, familiar mark, that circle of shame and regret.
It was gone.
June opened the door and stared as if the Second Coming stood on their front porch. Finally, a wheezy squeak escaped her. "Colin."
"Hey, June Bug."
Her whole body shook, caught between shocked restraint and the desire to fling herself upon him. "What are you doing here?" she whispered. "Momma's home.
"
"I know. I came to talk to her. Ju, if you don't blink, your eyeballs are going to explode."
A quick, frantic fluttering.
"Where is she?" Colin prompted gently. When she pointed toward the back of the immaculate home, he added, "Get your sisters. This involves them."
When she continued to stand, frozen with uncertainty, Colin placed his hand to her cheek. As if the warmth of his palm restored her animation, she darted down the hall, shouting, "Katie! Lucy! Colin's home!"
Colin started through the dining room, absorbing the sight of the familiar surroundings with a sharp pang of emotion until coming face-to-face with the woman who'd thrown him away long before casting him out on the day of her mate and sons’ deaths. She'd aged̶and not gracefully̶since that day, strong features sharply exposed by skin pulled taut with disapproval, bitterness thinning lips he'd rarely seen smile. But her voice hadn't changed. Her words burned with vitriol.
"What are you doing here?"
"Thought you'd be pleased to see I'm still alive."
"I’m not."
A lopsided smile. "Good to see you, too, Momma."
"Get out of my house. You're not wanted here."
A small voice spoke. "Yes, he is, Momma."
Her head snapped about to see her youngest flanked by her older sisters. Despite her scowl, the trio didn't shrink under her glare. Her attention returned to the brother they regarded with awe and longing.
"I'm not here to intrude,” Colin told her. “I've come for the girls." Four sharply drawn breaths. No one moved. "Pack for two weeks," he instructed the gawking teens. "You're going to New Orleans with me."
Wide eyes flashed to their rigid mother.
Patrice sucked a fierce breath, expelling it like a dragon’s flames. "Who do you think you are, coming in here, making demands? You're no son of mine!"
"I may not be your son beyond basic biology, but you can't deny I am a prince in the House of Terriot. I doubt you’ve forgotten what that means the way you’ve forgotten me." As she went dead white, staring up into the blank of his dark glasses, Colin called softly to his sisters, "Get your things."
A hesitation then they broke to scramble for their rooms.
"You can't take them from me." For just an instant, Patrice's voice trembled, but it was too little, too late to spark compassion in one never shown any.
"I could," Colin announced then, as she stiffened, added, "but I won't. I plan to start taking an active role in their lives from here on."
"You can't replace their father or their brothers," she sneered.
"I don't want to, Momma. I don't want to take any of those memories from them. Or from you. We'll make our own new ones."
They stood, neither giving a proud inch until the girls returned with their quickly packed bags, eager to flee the house before the door closed and prevented their escape.
"Get in the car," Colin said quietly, heart squeezing when they rushed toward freedom. Then it was just the two of them.
"I suppose you think you've won something away from me."
Colin's shoulders rose and fell heavily at his mother's cutting words. "No, Momma. I'm not winning anything. But you're losing more than you know."
"Because of you," she spat.
"No. What's wrong with you isn't because of me. I'm not the reason you're sour and unhappy. I wanted more than anything to love you and be a son to you." Now that his sisters were out of earshot, he let pretense fall away. "You sold yourself to Bram Terriot. He wanted Dad’s loyalty and you wanted to make a glorious future for your mate and sons. No one forced you to have me. Your ambitions ruined you, and your guilt isn't my fault. All I wanted was to be a part of this family, nothing more. I don't know why there was no room in your heart for me. It's nothing I did. I know that now. But I'm not letting another precious day pass without those girls in my life. It's a good one, Momma, one Dad and the boys would have approved of."
"In New Orleans with your Guedry whore."
He went still as death, and for a moment, she recognized her own in his dangerous silence, realizing she'd gone too far.
Colin relieved her fear by saying softly, "This is the only time I'll let that pass. If I ever hear you speaking of my mate that way again, I won't be so generous."
She took a shaky breath, wisely saying nothing.
"You closed your heart to me before I was born," he continued without inflection. "What a fool I've been to let you keep on breaking mine. This is the last time you'll see or hear from me. You're as dead to me now as I've always been to you."
Colin turned and started for the door. He never expected her to call out to him.
"Colin!"
When was the last time he'd heard her say his name? He couldn't remember. He stopped, but he didn't turn.
"You'll let them come back."
"In two weeks."
He shut the door behind him and walked briskly toward his future.
CHAPTER TWEINTY-SIX
Mia sat in the same booth where she’d returned Colin’s ring and thought she’d walked away from him for the last time. She looked up at Isaac Thorne, taking a small satisfaction in his recoil. She’d made no attempt to cover up the battlefield of cuts and bruises on her face.
“Thanks for meeting me,” she said quietly when he assumed the seat opposite.
“You said it was urgent.” He didn’t mention her injuries, merely waving over a server to get his first cup of coffee. Mia shook her head when asked. His cup quickly filled, he stirred in several packets of sweetener, waiting for her to speak.
“I won’t condone the murder of a woman and a child, especially a child that shares my blood.”
“So,” he mused, “you no longer want to save your lover’s life? Where is he this morning, by the way?”
“He’s gone home. They all have. Someone on your team must have tipped them that they were in danger.”
“If you—”
She waved off his furious threat. “It wasn’t me. I didn’t know until he came for his belongings. He wouldn’t even speak to me. So, I can safely guess that ship has sailed. I don’t need another lecture on misplaced loyalties.” That growled from her with an impressive menace. “It’s time to discuss how we’re going to take our clan from my cousin. He’ll be suspicious of you, and we don’t know who his insider is. Since I’m betting he or the locals were behind that attempt on my life, as well as Brigit MacCreedy’s, I’m motivated to hurry our timeline along.”
Thorne leaned back, chilly gaze assessing her, his smile thin and smug. “The quickest, surest way is to lure him here and end him, making it look like an assassination by either the locals or the Terriots, whichever opportunity comes first. Either would serve us. I’ll sound the alarm that treachery’s been done, first in an attack against you then in the murder of our leader, and we’ll hurry home so you can assume his place. You’ve the blood of those four New Orleans thugs on your hands. That should impress them with your qualifications.” She’d filled him in on the attack when they’d spoken on the phone and she’d accepted his claim that they’d been sent by Rueben. “Lives taken in protection of your brother’s heir. We’ll announce that Rueben has been hiding his existence, that in discovering his plan to murder the child and mother, you stepped in to save them. Easy enough to prove. Rueben will become the bloodthirsty villain and you the avenging and worthy successor.”
“A tidy plan, Isaac, disposing of our ruler and installing one of your choosing, one you believe you can easily manipulate. As if you’d had lots of experience in that area.”
He stopped stirring. “What are you talking about?”
“My grandfather, my mother, both so tragically attacked and murdered shortly after Danny insisted we take you in. My father dying soon after Colin’s step-father and brothers. They’d been secretly talking a truce, but you didn’t want that, did you? No chance to rise in influence and power in peacetime, is there?”
“What are you suggesting?” he snapped.
“I’m not suggesting. You wanted Danny as your puppet, pretending to be his friend when you loathed all of us for looking down on you. You sent him after Savoie, telling him it would win the heart of Brigit MacCreedy. He died on that foolish quest, but even if he’d lived, you still would have won.
“You’d hoped I would follow him to rule because I was young and eager and nearly as naive as my brother. But Rueben stepped in, Rueben who never trusted you and gave you no opportunity to excel in the chaos you thrive on. You filled me with sob stories of yours and Danny’s friendship when in truth, he was trying to escape your influence when he died. You had me questioning my cousin’s loyalty, fearing that he’d barter me off to gain allies. You conspired with Casper Lee and James Terriot to join with the North in crushing the clans. You wanted me to kill Brigit and her child, after your earlier attempt failed, threatening me with the death Colin Terriot, my mate.” The satisfaction of seeing his surprise and outrage made her smile wide, no matter how much it hurt.
“Your plan to poison the Terriots and the New Orleans clan against Rueben was very clever and might have succeeded. He could have become the perfect fall guy for all your nasty doings. Except for one thing.”
“And I’m sure you’re going to tell me exactly what that is, you stupid girl. Don’t bother. I have a new plan. Your body will be found in that Terriot fool’s house, a victim to his unstable rage. When Rueben arrives to demand an accounting, he’ll be met with treachery on the part of New Orleans. Their Patrol will capture and kill him in the most unpleasant manner possible. It’s being arranged. And I, as the newly named guardian of the Guedry heir, will rule unchallenged after that MacCreedy bitch’s unfortunate death in childbirth.”
“A creative twist. But I have a better one.” Mia smiled.
“Mind if I join you?”
Isaac Thorne’s astonishment was almost comedic as Silas MacCreedy slid into the seat next to him.
“My sister says hello.” A fierce jab of an elbow to Thorne’s throat had him gasping. “She asked me to convey her regrets that she couldn’t be here to say good-bye.”
“You’ve nothing to threaten me with,” he wheezed, recovering quickly. “Who will Rueben believe? A half-breed and the mate of an enemy, or our clan’s trusted counsel?”