Ravensong

by TJ Klune

  “Mark,” I snapped, stepping forward. “Knock it off. You’re getting yourself worked up. That’s not going to help—”

  “You’re scared?” Mark snarled, whirling on the people in the Lighthouse. “You should be. You want to see what you’re so afraid of? Let me show you.”

  He started to shift.

  Before I could step forward, Elizabeth was there behind him, hand on his shoulder.

  I didn’t have time to react.

  He spun, hand out. He backhanded her across the face, and as she fell into her Alphas, as the sound of a small bone snapping filled the room, Mark Bennett’s eyes flickered. Blue. Orange. Blue.

  Violet.

  And then it faded.

  Mark looked horrified as he lowered his hand.

  The room exploded around us as people began shouting. Jessie and Chris ran to Elizabeth’s side and helped her up. Tanner and Rico stood in front of them, arms across their chests as they glared at Mark. Elizabeth was muttering that she was fine, she was fine, even as the bone in her cheek began to heal. Ox looked furious, Joe murderous, and I thought I heard the wolves outside roar in anger.

  A gun fired.

  I jerked my head toward the sound, sure the hunters had found us, that we were all fucking trapped in here and—

  Bambi stood on top of the bar, pistol pointed up. Bits of plaster sprinkled down on her from a hole in the ceiling. Her eyes were narrowed and her voice cold when she said, “You touch her again and I’ll put a bullet in your head. Maybe it won’t kill you, whatever the fuck you are, but I bet it’ll slow you down.”

  Mark was stricken. He raised his hands in front of his face. His fingers were trembling, claws sinking back down. “Elizabeth,” he whispered. “I didn’t—I didn’t mean to. I didn’t—” He took a step toward her.

  Bambi pointed the gun at him. “I mean it, Mark Bennett. Another step and we’ll see if the color of your brains matches the décor.”

  “Holy shit,” Rico whispered. “I’m dating her.”

  “Not the time,” Tanner whispered back. “But seriously. Props, man.”

  They fist-pounded without looking away from Mark.

  “I’m fine,” Elizabeth said, knocking Joe’s hands off her. “He caught me by surprise. Joe, stop growling at him. You know as well as I do that I can take Mark in a fair fight any day.”

  “Ox,” Mark said, eyes wide and pleading, “it wasn’t—it was an accident. I swear. I’m in control. I promise. I promise. I promise—”

  “You stay here with everyone,” Ox told Joe. “Try to keep everyone calm. I’ll take Mark and—”

  And I said, “No.”

  Ox closed his eyes and sighed. “Gordo, if he’s… if this is him turning, and if it’s like the others, he’ll go after you first. You have to know that.”

  “I don’t care,” I said, stepping between Mark and the rest of the pack. His hands curled in the back of my shirt, his forehead pressed against my neck. He sounded close to hyperventilating. “There’s nothing more you can do that you haven’t already tried.”

  Ox’s eyes narrowed. “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I’ll figure out something. I always do. Just… I need you to trust me, okay? This isn’t because he’s my… it’s not because of that.”

  Elizabeth snorted, her cheek bright red. “I don’t know if that’s exactly true. Just ask Carter about that right now.”

  “What?” Joe asked. “What the hell does this have to do with Carter?”

  “I’ll explain later,” Elizabeth said, patting his hand.

  “You always say that, and you never do,” Joe muttered. “I’m an adult now. I’m your Alpha.”

  “And I’m still your mother,” Elizabeth said sharply. “I brought you into this world. I will take you out of it, Alpha or not.”

  Joe groaned. “Did you have to say that in front of everyone? Jeez.”

  “Fine,” Ox said after staring at me for a long moment. “Take him back to the house and—”

  I shook my head. “I’m taking him to mine.”

  “Gordo—”

  “Ox.”

  He was frustrated with me, but there was nothing I could do about that now. “Just… stay there. Okay? Don’t go after the hunters. When we move against them, we move together. Understood?”

  I nodded.

  “Go, then. I’ll send Carter back to the house just to be safe. Kelly and Robbie can go with him to keep an eye on him and to check on Pappas.”

  “Don’t forget about the other wolf,” Elizabeth said. “I highly doubt he’ll let Carter get very far without him.”

  Ox growled in annoyance. “Yes. And the other wolf. The rest of you will stay with me and see what we can do about—” He nodded toward the others in the bar, who were all watching us silently.

  “Better you than me,” I muttered, turning and grabbing Mark by the hand. I thought he was going to protest, because he resisted when I tried to pull him away. His gaze was trained on Elizabeth. She smiled at him, though she winced when she did so.

  “Go,” she said quietly. “I’ll see you soon.”

  He nodded tightly and let me pull him through the door and out into the snow.

  Robbie and Kelly were standing near the door. Carter was still trying to get up, but the other wolf wouldn’t let him. Its front paws were on his chest, holding him down. It turned its head toward me, eyes flaring violet at the sight of me. Its nose twitched, and I was again hit with a wave of familiarity. Like I should know this wolf. It was possible I’d met it (him) before it’d turned Omega, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember ever seeing a wolf like it before. I would have remembered a shifter that size.

  “All right?” Kelly asked, voice strained.

  “We’re okay,” I said smoothly. “Go back to the house. Take Robbie and Carter too. Stay there until you hear from Ox. Don’t be seen.”

  Kelly nodded slowly. “Mark?”

  Mark didn’t speak.

  “Kelly,” I said. “Now.”

  Robbie took Kelly’s elbow in his hand, tugging him gently toward Carter, who was yelling at us to tell him what was going on, and why we were splitting up, and would someone get the fucking wolf off of him for fuck’s sake?

  MARK DIDN’T speak as I led him home. He held my hand tightly, so much so that I was sure there’d be bruises. But I didn’t try to get him to ease up. I didn’t want him to.

  I avoided the deepest drifts as best I could as we trekked the mile or so to my house. It was still snowing and didn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon.

  I was sweating by the time we reached my door. The driveway was empty, and it was only then I realized we’d left my truck behind when Elijah had come. I hadn’t seen it in the road this morning. They must have moved it. Jones’s cruiser had been gone too.

  He’d only been two days away from his vacation, he’d said.

  “Christ,” I muttered, pulling Mark up the driveway. My keys were still in the truck. There was a spare, and I had to let Mark’s hand go to bend over and dig for it. He stared down at the ground.

  I dug through the snow until I found the rock with the key underneath. I opened the screen door, unlocked the door, and shoved it open. I stood aside, glancing back at Mark. “Inside.”

  He looked dazed as he lifted his head. “What.”

  I jerked my head toward the open door. “Move your ass.”

  He hesitated. “Gordo, if I’m—if this is happening, then I need to be as far away from you as I can be.”

  “Get in the house.”

  His eyes narrowed. That was better. I could deal with him being pissed off at me. It put us back on even ground. “Are you stupid?” he growled.

  “I swear to god, if you don’t get into this fucking house, I’m going to lose my shit, and you won’t like it when I do.”

  He scowled.

  I waited.

  With a huff, he pushed past me and went into the house, muttering under his bre
ath about bossy fucking witches.

  I looked out into the snow.

  It was quiet.

  I knew it wouldn’t last long.

  I followed him inside and locked the door behind us.

  HE WAS in the kitchen by the time I came out of the bedroom, changed into dry clothes. I felt centered, being in my own house, head clear for the first time in what felt like days.

  He stood in front of the sink, staring out the window into the white. He didn’t turn, though he knew I was there. He always did.

  “I put clothes out for you,” I said quietly. “On the bed. They might be a little tight, but it’s better than having the smell of wet dog in my house.”

  He snorted, shaking his head. “Asshole.”

  “Not going to argue that. Hope you weren’t expecting something more romantic from me. This is pretty much all you’ll get. I don’t do shit like that.”

  He turned his head slightly. “Romantic?”

  Yeah, I hadn’t meant to say that. “Shut up. Forget I said anything.”

  “I don’t know if I can. Be still my heart.”

  “Mark. Change your fucking clothes.”

  He huffed out a breath as he turned around. He looked at me, searching for what, I didn’t know. He seemed to be in control, at least more than he had before. I didn’t know how much longer that would last. The full moon was less than two days away. We were running out of time.

  He nodded and started out of the kitchen. But before he went down the hall to the bedroom, he paused. “You knew.”

  “What?”

  “To bring me here instead of to the pack house.”

  I felt his eyes on me, but I couldn’t bring myself to look back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  A beat of silence. Then, “I think you do. At the house, you don’t have… you stay, sometimes. But not like the others. You always come back here. You’re pack, but this is your home. It smells like you. This place. The weight of you, it’s… everywhere. You knew that bringing me here would help.”

  “Go change, Mark.”

  He went.

  I listened to the sounds of him moving slowly through my house, the wood creaking under his feet, his fingertips dragging along the walls, leaving his scent behind. I knew what he was doing. I knew what we were headed toward, and I didn’t know if there was anything I could do to stop it. I didn’t know if I wanted it to stop. When was the last time he’d been here? When was the last time he’d felt like he was welcome here?

  My skin felt too tight. The ink on my skin was thrumming with something I couldn’t quite name. Either that, or I didn’t want to face it. There was something here, some precipice we were standing on, and I didn’t think there was any turning back after this. If we tried, I didn’t know if there’d be enough pieces of us left to put back together.

  Once, there was a boy.

  An extraordinary boy.

  And as an Alpha held him down, this extraordinary boy’s father whispered in his ear while taking a needle to his skin, etching ink and leaving a trail of magic in its wake.

  Once, there was a wolf.

  A brave wolf.

  And as this brave wolf grew, he followed the scent of dirt and leaves and rain, his Alpha telling him that he had found the one to make him whole.

  The boy had loved this wolf.

  But it hadn’t been enough.

  Once, the moon had loved the sun.

  But no matter how hard she tried, the sun was always at the other end of the sky, and they could never meet. She would sink, and he would rise. She was dark and he was day. The world slept while she shone. She waxed and waned, and sometimes disappeared entirely.

  Once, an old blind witch had spoken words of choice, of truth and prophecy.

  He said, You will be tested, Gordo Livingstone. In ways that you haven’t yet imagined. One day, and one day soon, you will have to make a choice. And I fear the future of all you hold dear will depend on that choice.

  I was tired of being angry.

  I was tired of the whispers in my ear, telling me the wolves didn’t love me, that they only wanted to use me.

  I was tired of always being at the other end of the sky, of waxing and waning and disappearing entirely.

  Roses bloomed.

  The raven’s talons tightened amongst the thorns.

  I pushed away from the counter.

  And I did what I should have done a long time ago.

  I followed my wolf.

  The bedroom door was open.

  I couldn’t hear him moving.

  It felt like this was a dream.

  Like even after all this time, it couldn’t be real.

  I’d been here before. Dreaming of him.

  Waxing and waning. Waxing and waning.

  He stood with his back to me. He had peeled off his coat and shirt, and they lay discarded on the floor in a wet heap.

  The muscles in his back rippled. His head was bowed, and I didn’t know why.

  “Mark?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

  He breathed, but he didn’t speak.

  I took another step toward him, reaching out in the bond that stretched between us. I thought I was too late. That coming here had been a mistake. That I’d be met with nothing but a wall of violet rage and that he’d turn, teeth bared, skin shifting, and no matter what I said, no matter how hard I tried, he wouldn’t know me. He wouldn’t remember me.

  But instead of violet, I was drowning in blue. So much blue.

  I stopped.

  I said, “Mark?”

  His shoulders shook. “You.”

  “Yes.”

  He didn’t raise his head. I didn’t know what he was looking at. “I told myself that you—that you’d forgotten.”

  “About what?”

  He laughed, though it cracked right down the middle. “This. Me. Everything.”

  “I don’t—”

  He raised his hand so I could see it over his shoulder.

  Clutched in his fingers was a raven made of wood.

  The raven I’d left on the nightstand after taking it out of the secret pocket where it’d stayed hidden for over three years.

  The raven he’d given to me when we didn’t know any better.

  He said, “It took me weeks to do this. To make this. To get it just right. I nicked my fingers more times than I could count. The cuts always healed, but sometimes the blood got into the wood, and I would rub at it until it was ingrained. I didn’t—I didn’t like the way one of the wings looked, and I couldn’t figure out how to fix it. So I went to Thomas. He smiled at me when he took it in his hands. He studied it for a long time. Then he handed it back to me and said it was perfect the way it was. And I remember being so angry with him. Because it wasn’t perfect. It was crude. Clumsy. Do you know what he said to me?”

  I shook my head, unable to speak.

  “He said, ‘It’s perfect because it’s imperfect. Like you. Like Gordo. Like all of us. It’s perfect because of the intent. Of what it means. He’ll get it, Mark. I promise you he’ll understand.’”

  I blinked away the burn.

  Mark shook his head. “And I remember being so irritated with him. It sounded like something our father would say. A bunch of Alpha nonsense. Because it was imperfect. It was flawed and misshapen. It took me a while to see that was the point. And you kept it.”

  I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I cleared my throat and tried again. “I took it with me. When we left.”

  He turned slowly. The shadows played along his bare skin. The hair on his chest trailed down to his stomach and disappeared into the top of his pants. He held the raven in his hand gently, as if it were something to be revered.

  “Why?”

  I looked away and remembered his words when we’d last been alone. “Because it was the only part of you that’s ever been mine.”

  “That’s not true,” he said, voice rough. “That’s never been true. Gordo, everything I have, e
verything I am, it’s always been yours. You were just too goddamn stubborn to see that.”

  “I was hurt.”

  “I know.”

  “And angry.”

  “I know that too. And I would give almost anything to take that back. I would. I swear. To make Thomas see he was wrong. He should have fought for you more.” He closed his eyes. “I should have fought for you more.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “No. I didn’t.”

  “I was here, Mark. I was fifteen years old, and my mother was dead. My pack was dead. My father was gone. And then you—he just… you said it was the hardest decision he ever had to make. You said it nearly killed him. But then why did he never come back? Why did he never come for me?”

  Mark opened his eyes. They were orange and then blue and then violet, and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to stop it. “He wanted to,” Mark growled. “God, Gordo. He wanted to. But there was always something that kept him away. And he would send me, and there were times I thought you wanted me here, and then times where I thought you never wanted to see me again.”

  “It wasn’t enough,” I snapped. “Parts of you. Pieces of you. It wasn’t fair. You couldn’t be here for days and then leave for months. I would be left here again, and you would go back to the pack, with your family. Jesus Christ, I fucking hated you for that. I fucking hated all of you for doing that to me.”

  His eyes glowed. He popped his neck side to side. The veins in his thick biceps pulsed. “I know you did. And when I came back that last time and the stench on your skin was of some goddamn stranger, I was barely able to restrain myself. I wanted to fucking kill him. I wanted to knock you to the side and find whoever it was and tear him to shreds. To spill his blood. To break his bones. To make him suffer for having the goddamn audacity to think he could ever touch you. That he could even think of touching you.”

  “You weren’t here,” I said, a nasty curl to my lips. I was playing with fire, and I didn’t care. “You weren’t here and he was. It had to be someone. Might as well have been him. I don’t even remember his name. But at least he wasn’t afraid to touch me. At least he wouldn’t hurt me. At least he wouldn’t fucking betray me.”