by Terra Wolf
“Deacon, are you well enough?” Patrick asked, his tone eerily calm.
Deacon nodded. “I am. For what?”
Kirk turned his eyes away from his grandfather, shooting Deacon a sad look. “Richard White Eagle has challenged Gramps.”
Maggie stormed forward, growling her words. “No! He can’t do that!”
“It’s done,” Patrick said, shaking his head. “John tells me you fought with them tonight.”
Deacon’s stomach turned. “I did. I had no choice, Gramps. I’m so sorry, I had no fucking choice.”
Patrick was by no means weak, but he was older now. He hadn’t fought another bear in decades. Richard White Eagle had built everything he had on fighting.
Patrick reached for Deacon, planting a hand on Deacon’s wounded shoulder. Deacon steadied himself against the pain, refusing to flinch.
“I don’t doubt it, son. John told me what happened.” Gramps turned toward Maggie, giving her a once over before he bowed his head to her. “I’m told you were something of a surprise.”
Maggie frowned at him.
Deacon’s mind began to race. What right did Richard have challenging Gramps? Gramps did nothing wrong. He wasn’t involved in the Kalmud, he wasn’t even aware of it when it happened.
“Why is he challenging you? You didn’t do anything! It should be me he’s challenging. For fuck’s sake, you haven’t done anything!”
Patrick snorted, giving a half smile. “Oh no, it’s not what I’ve done. It’s what I’ve refused to do.”
Gracie slumped onto the hood of the truck, covering her face in her hands. Kirk went to his baby sister and put his arm around her shoulder, kissing the top of her head.
Deacon watched his grandfather saunter up the stairs to the front door, leaning to look inside as though he was saying goodbye to his childhood home for the last time.
“Gramps?” Deacon paused. His words were catching in his throat. He could smell the fear and feel their sorrow. His entire family was grieving a man that hadn’t yet died.
Damn it, it should be me!
“Will somebody please tell me what the hell is going on?!” Deacon bellowed, his voice echoing through the nearby trees.
His mother shot Maggie a sad smile. “Richard White Eagle has demanded that we turn Maggie over to them – and your grandfather refused.”
Maggie almost collapsed in on herself. Deacon turned to her, grabbing her around the shoulders to hold her upright. She began to shake violently, fighting to hold back tears.
Maggie pulled from Deacon’s arms, her voice teeming with rage and despair. “I can’t let you do this, Mr. Fenn.”
Patrick gave her an almost impatient look. “I didn’t ask you, Maggie. Richard doesn’t intend to have polite conversation when he has you, he means to kill you.”
“Then let him! I won’t let any other person suffer for me. Not anymore! If he wants me he can have me,” she said, and her voice cracked.
Deacon’s heart instantly broke. No they damn well couldn’t, he thought.
“When? When are we supposed to be there?” Deacon asked, his own timber shaky in the wake of emotion.
“Dawn.”
No more than two hours away. Deacon clenched his fists. He half wanted to fight his grandfather for being so stubborn. He knew damn well there was no convincing this man. Patrick Fenn was going to accept a challenge that would surely kill him, and no one on earth had the power to change his mind. “No, god damn it!”
Patrick ignored him, opening the door to the house. “I need to have a few words with my grandsons, if you lovely ladies would mind waiting outside.”
With that, Patrick marched into the house again without invitation, and John, Kirk, and Tiernan all stepped forward to follow him. Uncle Terry wrapped an arm around Janice’s shoulder, then his other arm around Gracie. Maggie stood there alone, her expression void of any emotion, as though she’d become lost in herself, somehow. Deacon shot Bennett Calhoun a pleading look, and his old friend read it clearly. Bennett hopped out just long enough to offer Maggie his passenger seat and a chance to keep warm. She hardly nodded as she accepted the offer.
Deacon cringed as he entered the house. The smell of sex lingered in the air enough for a norm to catch it, let alone a bear. Still, he hadn’t been expecting company so soon.
“Alright, boys. This isn’t a pleasant conversation, but it needs to be had.”
Deacon started to protest, knowing exactly what he’d say, but Patrick simply raised a hand, stilling him.
“My will has been written for many years now. You all know full well what’s yours, so I’m not concerned with any of that. There’ll be no bickering.”
They all muttered their agreement, save for Kirk.
“Gramps,” Kirk said, frowning.
Patrick ignored him. “The future of this clan is all I care about. I think you all suspected I was planning to name Deacon the next Chief.”
Kirk nodded, and despite himself, John gave an audible sigh of relief.
“I feel it best to leave leadership in the hands of one of the grizzlies, would everyone agree with that sentiment?”
Deacon’s cousins nodded, but Deacon couldn’t listen to this anymore. “Gramps, stop. You don’t have to fight him. This isn’t the god damn Stone Age for fuck’s sake!”
Patrick shook his head. “Refusal means war.”
“Then we go to war! Damn it, how can you all be so fucking calm right now?”
Kirk frowned.
“Josephine is about to pop. That woman’s been through enough in her lifetime; do you think she deserves to live in constant fear again? Because that’s what a war with the Talbots will be.”
Deacon tried to protest, but Patrick continued. “These bears are not like us. They live by fighting. To them, killing Maggie is their right. The fact we’ve denied them that right will be enough. They will do all in their power to punish this family if we don’t -”
“Are we supposed to believe they’ll stop when you’re dead? They’ve no honor. Richard White Eagle has no honor. We saw that with our own eyes! He’ll just keep coming for us – for Maggie.”
The thought struck him and he hurt a thousand times more.
Every man in the room seem dejected and beaten down, like they’d accepted this fate from birth. Deacon couldn’t do the same. He refused to accept.
“Is this woman the one for you, Deacon?” Gramps asked.
Deacon startled at this question, broadsided by the thunderous sound it set off in his chest. “What? How can I know that, I’ve only just met her -?”
Patrick’s brow furrowed. “I knew your grandmother was the one from the moment I saw her. Tiernan married his within two weeks of meeting the bastard. Kirk here spotted his when she was half dead, and John waited ten years for his to come back -”
“You’re a bear, Deac. I know you know. Is she it?” John asked, frowning from under his baseball cap.
Kirk, Tiernan, and Gramps all watched him for response. He felt cornered and vulnerable, not because they wanted to know, but because his answer felt irrational. How could he be so sure about a woman in three days?
Deacon nodded.
“There you have it. My hope is that killing me will be enough to sate the man, and he’ll leave this family alone.”
“Fuck, Gramps! No!” Deacon said and his eyes welled over. He was so angry he feared he might shift, might attack his own family just to make them feel something – to make them see sense.
Patrick crossed to his grandson, planting a hand on Deacon’s shoulder as Deacon began to lose his fight with grief. Gramps wrapped his arms around Deacon and pulled him in to embrace him. Deacon pushed against the older man, angry to be touched and have the room see the weak state he was in, but Patrick didn’t let go. Finally, Deacon wrapped his arms around his grandfather’s chest and pressed his face to into the folds of his shirt.
“I’m so sorry, Grampy. I never thought this would happen.”
Patrick squee
zed him, chuckling softly to himself. “It’s alright. I’ve done my fair share of darkness in this world, and I’ve lived a damn good life. I think I’ve been ready to be with my Laurel and my little Ali again for a very, very long time. If this is it, I’m ready.”
These words just set Deacon off even harder, and a sob escaped his throat. He shoved his grandfather away, turning for the kitchen to be away from the men of his family. He didn’t want them to see him cry.
“Just my luck my successor would choose a god damn mountain lion for a mate.”
Deacon gave a sad laugh, pressing his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose.
“Terry has my will; he knows my wishes. Just keep the bears alive for me, for the love of god.”
Deacon leaned down, bracing his hands on the kitchen counter as he fought to get a hold of himself.
How could he fix this? He couldn’t let them have Maggie, no more than he could stand by and let Patrick die for his mistakes – for Maggie’s secrets. Honor be damned, he thought. He would take on the entire Talbot clan if he had to, but he wouldn’t let Gramps go down alone.
“Guys! Hey,” Bennett said, his voice startling everyone in the house. “We got a problem.”
Patrick appeared in the kitchen door, his grandsons just behind him. “Jesus, what is it now?”
“It’s Maggie. She took off.”
Fourteen
Maggie knew the way better than anyone, leaping over fallen trees and relishing in the feel of frozen moss underfoot – a soft reprieve from the stones and twigs of the path. She wasn’t a cat, now. She wouldn’t shift again until it was necessary.
God damn you, White Eagle. God fucking damn you.
He’d tried to hurt her that night, then tried to take her father from her. Now, he was threatening the family of a man she suddenly realized she would die to protect. She couldn’t let the Fenn family suffer such a loss because of her. No matter what the cost might be, she couldn’t let it happen.
Why hadn’t she just left when she had the chance? Everyone would be better off if she’d just left.
The cars were gathering along the roadside already; every member of the Talbot bear clan there to watch a challenge between their chief and the chief of one of the only other bear families within five hundred miles.
Like Romans come out for a day at the colosseum, happily watching men fight to the death like it’s some spectator sport.
Maggie stopped on the hillside just across the road, watching. They’d smell her soon enough.
Richard White Eagle’s car was there, as were his sons.’ Alongside those were her Uncle Paul’s, and her cousins by Uncle Ted.
A familiar SUV pulled up along the roadside – Deacon was early. He was out of the car and nose to the air in an instant, clearly searching for something. Maggie ducked down behind a tree, watching him. He turned toward the peninsula and hauled off into the woods. For a moment she thought he might be fooled by the smell of her family – by other Talbots, but no – she didn’t smell like a bear, and she never had.
Behind Deacon’s car, an armada of trucks rolled up. She watched every member of the Fenn family appear in the road, all rallying around their patriarch as they crossed the dirt path to make their way out onto the peninsula.
The sun wasn’t yet cracking the horizon, but it was growing too close to wait any longer. Maggie rushed down the roadside until she was out of sight, then crossed the road to slink her way through the trees. The smell of agitation should be enough to keep their attention, she hoped, ducking under a fallen trunk to see the shoreline ahead.
Richard White Eagle stood amongst his closest kin, his shirt already off as he prepared himself for the fight. Maggie could see bandages across the man’s back, all of them seeping through with blood – every single one her doing.
Good, she thought. I hope they hurt like hell.
Patrick approached the clearing with his family around him and the differences between the two men were instantly clear, even to a non-shifter. Richard’s family milled around him, their energy high and on edge. Yet Patrick’s family seemed to surround him, like a colony of bees, protective of their queen. Their presence wasn’t out of obligation or potential opportunity. They didn’t fear their chief, they loved him.
Richard White Eagle would never be half the man Patrick Fenn was. Maggie couldn’t let Patrick fall at a lesser man’s hands.
Richard took his place in the clearing, waiting for Patrick Fenn to undress. Maggie watched in pain as each of the Fenns paid honor to their patriarch, collecting his clothes like prayer beads.
Patrick turned to face Richard in the clearing. The horizon began to glow with the creeping approach of dawn.
“Welcome Chief,” Richard said, and the tone was so smug, she wanted to bite his face off. “You accept our challenge, then?”
Patrick straightened. However strong Richard White Eagle was in a fight, Patrick towered over him by several inches. “I do.”
“You would choose this fight for a girl you don’t know? I fail to understand this.”
“I would. She is my grandson’s chosen mate.”
Maggie’s heart shot into her throat. Had Deacon said as much? Was this true?
“But she refused the match.”
Patrick’s voice lowered. “She changed her mind.”
Richard met the gaze of each member of the Fenn family. “You would willingly let an abomination like that muddy your line? Have you no pride in your clan name?”
Deacon surged forward, his mother barely able to hold him back. “Don’t you speak of her like that. You’re not good enough to even speak her name.”
Maggie’s throat tightened. Yet she didn’t have time to process the beauty of someone thinking so highly of her, because her people had not taken kindly to these words. Every Talbot present seethed at him. To them, Deacon didn’t refer to Richard’s dishonorable behavior or his crimes; to them, Deacon insulted natives.
Patrick waved back to his grandson, never taking his eyes off of Richard. Patrick gestured to Richard’s wounds. “If those are her doing, I would say she’d be a welcome addition to our family. Her children will be strong, indeed.”
Richard’s face flushed and he glared at Patrick, as though speaking well of Maggie was blasphemy. “Your line will die because of that girl! You should thank me that you won’t be around to see it. Ready yourself!”
“No!” Maggie screamed, lunging from the trees and sprinting down the hillside to the clearing below. “No! You want me? I’m here!”
Every face around the clearing startled to see her coming, tearing the sweatshirt up over her head as she reached the clearing. She wouldn’t give anyone a chance to refuse.
“Maggie!” Deacon called from behind her, but she ignored him. She set a hand on Patrick Fenn’s shoulder, gently pushing him back. The gesture offered untold respect, but the message was clear – I won’t let you fight for me.
Patrick took a step back, but he did not retreat.
Richard’s eyes were wide and furious, glaring at her from his readied stance. He was seconds from shifting, and she knew how this man liked to fight. If he could take her off guard, he would.
“You’re no match for me, girl,” Richard said, his voice low and dripping with pleasure.
Maggie lowered herself to the ground. “Prove it, old man.”
Richard smiled, glancing toward the Fenn family. “If any of you step in to this fight, it will be a declaration of war. Am I understood?”
Before anyone could respond, Richard moved. It took less than an instant for her uncle to change, lunging toward her in a massive shape of black and teeth. Maggie jumped aside, dodging him with an agility she’d known her whole life. She didn’t need to shift to move like a cat. She took her opportunity, and jumped onto Richard’s back, shifting in mid-air to clamp her teeth into his already wounded neck, and tears her claws into his haunches. He roared, recoiling in pain, but Maggie wouldn’t let him shake her. She loosed her jaws just lo
ng enough to bite again, tearing into him anew. He dropped to the ground, rolling onto his back to crush her under his weight. She leapt aside before he could pin her, coming about to face him, backing away toward the surrounding crowd.
Her hip seared in sudden, blinding pain. Every person gathered hollered in protest, even the Talbots. Maggie startled around to find the source of this pain and found another familiar shape – her cousin Graham was a bear now, and she had the claw marks on her haunch to prove it.
Son of a bitch, she thought.
Richard Whit Eagle fought without honor, and he seemed not to care who knew.
She caught movement at her side and spun around, jumping out of the way before Richard could pin her to the rocky ground. Yet her hip was hurting now, and his attack was enough to throw her off balance. She toppled across the ground, skidding into Graham’s reach. She lashed out at him, her claws raking across his face before he could bite her. He recoiled, whimpering, but something else appeared over her. She rolled onto her side, kicking her hind legs up into the chest of Richard White Eagle’s massive shape, but it was too late, he was over her now, pinning her beneath him.
Maggie could hear the voices of the Fenn family, screaming their disapproval, but she prayed they would not step in. She tore Richard’s face, and in the instant he recovered from the new attack, she glanced toward the Fenns.
Deacon was being held back by his grandfather, but as Richard opened his jaws wide over Maggie’s head, Patrick let his grandson go, and Deacon was halfway across the clearing in an instant.
Yet, he didn’t shift. He didn’t barrel into her attacker and knock him away – something else did.
Richard stumbled aside, the wounds in his shoulders weakening him as he fought to stay upright.
Maggie scrambled to get onto her feet and out of the way of the new beast. This bear was different, unlike any bear she’d seen in decades. They were broad and massive – and they were white.