Ravensong

by TJ Klune

  “You’re not as stupid as you sound. Good to know. And do you mind telling me why I can’t get anything on my computer to work? Again?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Because for some reason you seem to think it’s 1997 and that the internet still comes from free AOL discs you get at a place called Blockbuster.” He pushed his glasses back on his nose. “Whatever that is.”

  I pointed my finger at him. “I want it working by the time I come in tomorrow. If it’s not, I will take your glasses and shove them up your ass.” I turned for the door.

  “You know, with all the things you’ve threatened to shove in me, it’s a wonder Mark doesn’t get more jealous.”

  I turned slowly back to look at him.

  He blanched. “Um. I didn’t say anything. Ignore me. Go about your business.” The phone rang. “Thank you, Jesus.” He picked up the phone. “Gordo’s, this is Robbie speaking, how can I help you?”

  The air was cool when I stepped outside the garage. It made my lungs burn when I took a deep breath. I wanted a cigarette. I reached in my pocket and pulled out a pack of nicotine gum. I tore a piece from the wrapper and crunched it between my teeth. It wasn’t the same.

  The blacktop on Main Street was still shiny from where it’d been repaved. The banner on the diner advertising their reopening was faded and flapping in the breeze. People waved at me from the other side of the street as I walked to the truck. I wanted to ignore them, but we couldn’t do that anymore. Not with what the townsfolk now knew. I forced a smile on my face and waved back. It must not have been very convincing, because they quickly walked away.

  It was fine.

  I wasn’t a people person anyway.

  IT WAS a twenty-footer, just as Ox had said.

  It blocked the driveway, the ramp crossing the sidewalk.

  Kelly stuck his head out the back as I turned the truck off. He waved.

  I glared at him.

  He rolled his eyes.

  “You’re not fooling anyone,” he said as I approached the back of the U-Haul. “I can hear your heartbeat. You’re excited.”

  “Shut up.” I looked inside. It was still half-full, and Kelly was reaching for a box marked KITCHEN in a familiar scrawl. “There’s no fucking way all of this is fitting inside my house.”

  “We had to get rid of some of the crap,” Carter said, coming out of the house.

  “The crap,” I repeated.

  “You know. The junk. The stuff in your house that should have been thrown away a long time ago.”

  “I don’t own junk.”

  “Uh-huh,” Carter said, walking up the ramp. “Of course not. I accidentally broke your coffee table into a bunch of tiny pieces, so it’s a good thing that Mark had another one in storage that’s much nicer than yours was.”

  “Accidentally?”

  Carter shrugged. “Yeah, it was this whole thing. The wolf tried to follow me into the living room, I told it to stay where it was, and then I accidentally broke the coffee table.”

  “Those two things don’t have anything to do with each other.”

  Carter took the box from his brother. “Weird how that happens, right?”

  “And why is that thing in my house?”

  “Wherever I go, it goes. You know that.” Carter sounded particularly aggrieved, which made me feel a little better. “I still don’t know why. Although it seemed very interested in how your house smelled. It pissed on the floor in the kitchen. I forgot to clean it up. So, just… you know. Keep that in mind.”

  “I am going to kill all of you,” I growled.

  Carter reached out and patted the side of my face as he went down the ramp. “Sure, Gordo. Okay. Still totally believe your threats after I’ve seen you make heart eyes at my uncle.”

  Kelly laughed in the truck.

  I stalked after Carter inside the house.

  Sure enough, all my junk was gone. The old couch. The coffee table. For some reason I now had bookcases in the living room and a TV that didn’t have a dial on the front. There were speakers set up on either side of it, and everything looked bright and shiny in this old house, like it was something new. A beginning.

  The timber wolf rose from behind the couch and moved to follow Carter into the kitchen. Before it did, it glanced at me, nostrils flaring. It cocked its head, but then it turned away.

  “Mark!” I bellowed. “When I said you could move in, I meant you.” I paused, considering. “Maybe some clothes.”

  I heard him laugh down the hallway.

  I followed the sound. I was helpless to do anything but.

  He was in my—our—bedroom, boxes stacked on either side of the closet. There were picture frames stacked on the floor near my side of the bed, piles of books in the far corner, clothes on hangers lying on the bed.

  Some of the boxes had been torn open, their contents shuffled. He was bent over one on the trunk at the end of the bed, brow furrowed, muttering under his breath.

  I leaned against the doorway, watching him.

  We were here. We were alive. We were together. There were good days. Oh, were there good days, days in which I’d wake up and feel him curled around me, his breath warm on my neck. Days when I’d feel him wake up, his lips trailing along my skin, and he’d hum as he stretched his sleep-slack muscles, hands tightening on my waist. His voice would be a rumble when he’d say hey and hi and good morning.

  Those were the good days.

  But there were other days too.

  Days when the scratching at the door in his head was loud. Days when his shoulders were stiff and his eyes flickered violet. Days when he and Carter would disappear into the woods for hours on end, running themselves ragged until they collapsed and slept away the sound of claws against wood.

  And there were days where I wasn’t any better.

  I still wasn’t okay. I was getting there, and maybe it’d take a little longer, but I knew about those bad days. I’d be reaching for something, or scratching an itch, only to be violently reminded that my right hand was gone, that it’d been taken from me while I protected my Alpha. I would do it again. Of course I would. Anything to keep Ox safe. Always. But I had an underlying bitterness that sometimes wrapped around me, and it took a while for it to let me go.

  Mark would run, and I’d be there waiting for him when he got back.

  I’d lose myself in my head, and he’d be there to pull me close.

  Rarely did our bad days coincide. But when they did, it felt chaotic. Wild. Both of us were dangerously close to being feral.

  But those days were few and far between.

  They were worth it, though. Everything about him was worth it. And even though I was putting up a fight, it was half-assed, the sight of him filling up my space making me feel more at ease than I’d been in a long time. I never thought we’d get to this point. I never thought we’d belong to each other.

  “You just gonna stand there and stare at my ass?” he asked without looking up at me.

  “It’s a nice ass.”

  He laughed. If only Marty could see what had happened in his old house. I thought he’d be okay with it. “That so?”

  I pushed off the doorway. “I could show you, if you wanted.”

  He arched an eyebrow as he looked up at me. “You could… show me my ass?”

  “How nice it is. What can be done with it, if one was so inclined.”

  “We can hear you!” Carter shouted down the hallway. “What the fuck. No one should ever have to hear their witch trying to have sexy talk with their uncle. Are you trying to traumatize us further? Jesus, Gordo. Haven’t we all been through enough?”

  The timber wolf growled in agreement.

  “How much longer until we can make them leave?” I muttered, pressing myself against Mark’s back. I reached up and closed my hand over the raven on his throat. He tilted his head back on my shoulder.

  “Depends on what’s left in the truck.” His beard scraped against my cheek as he rubbed his face on mine. Fucking wolves. A
lways with the scenting. “Have to have it back by the end of the day.”

  “I like it,” I admitted.

  “What?”

  “Having you here. With me.”

  I felt his laugh underneath my hand. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone you’re getting soft.”

  I had to ask one last time. “You’re sure about this? Being here. With me. It’s not—I know it’s not the pack house, but—”

  “Wherever you are, that’s where my home is.”

  Jesus fucking Christ. I couldn’t—“And you say I’m getting soft.” It was a deflection. He knew it, but he let me have it. I didn’t do well when he said things that burned me from the inside out.

  “You are. I can feel you blushing.”

  I bit the side of his neck in retaliation but stepped away. I wanted more, but apparently two virginish prudes and a feral wolf wouldn’t take the hint and leave.

  He went back to digging in the box. The lines on his forehead appeared again.

  “Everything okay today?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “You?”

  “Yeah.” It was something we asked each other. Kept us honest. “Felt good. Being back in the shop.”

  “Told you it would.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah.” I sat on the bed next to the box he was digging in. “Elizabeth and Jessie see that girl off okay?”

  “She got picked up this morning,” Mark said. One of the Omegas. Not like him or Carter. Not infected. A regular girl bitten by a rogue Alpha last year who had turned Omega after being abandoned. She’d been placed with a pack up in Washington. She was the twelfth we’d sent to another pack. There were only a few noninfected Omegas left. There wasn’t any rush. They could stay here if they wanted, or we would find them a home.

  The infected ones, they needed to stay as close to Ox as possible. At least until we could find my father. They needed the Alpha most of all. Carter and Mark were better off. Their bonds with the pack were stronger, even if they did have violet eyes. The threads between us were tenuous, but they were holding and becoming more fibrous every day. It would be enough until Robert Livingstone showed himself.

  And he would. That much we knew.

  Mark growled in frustration, and his eyes flashed. He dropped something back inside the box. It sounded like it broke.

  “Hey,” I said, reaching out to grab his arm. “It’s okay. Take a breath. What are you looking for? I can help you find it.”

  He scrubbed a hand over his face. I saw a hint of claw and fang. “It’s not… I know it’s here. I know it. I just can’t remember where I put it.”

  I tugged him toward me. He resisted, but only just. He stood between my legs, breathing in through his nose and out his mouth. I waited, rubbing my thumb over the back of his hand, thinking.

  He settled eventually.

  We’d caught it early enough this time.

  “Sorry,” he muttered, obviously frustrated.

  I shrugged. “It’s okay. It happens. You do the same for me.”

  “It’s not—”

  “It is,” I said fiercely. “It is the same, and don’t you try and tell me otherwise. Remember what you told me? What we would be for each other?”

  He softened, and it felt green. “I’ll be your hands.”

  “And I’ll be your sanity.”

  He leaned forward then. He kissed me. In our room, as cool winter sunlight filtered in through the window. It was sweet and warm, and I’d never wanted anything more.

  “Sap,” he muttered, kissing me once, twice, three times.

  “Just as long as you don’t tell anyone.”

  “Secret’s safe with me, Livingstone.”

  “Damn right it is, Bennett.”

  We grinned at each other like fools.

  But that was okay too. We’d earned it. Earned this.

  Then his eyes widened. “I know where—” He stepped away from me, turning toward the stack of boxes near the closet. He set aside two of them, reaching for the one on the bottom. I waited, wondering what the hell could be so important that it’d caused him to almost lose himself to his wolf.

  He sliced the tape with a single claw and opened the box, rifling through it until—“I knew. I knew it was here.”

  I had no idea what he was on about. “What are you—” And then I couldn’t speak.

  He turned toward me.

  In his hand was a little box.

  I knew that box.

  The last time I’d held it, our hearts were breaking.

  He took a step toward me, watching me like I was something revered. Something beautiful. Something he couldn’t believe he got to call his own. I felt the faint pulse in the scar on my neck, a perfect indentation of the teeth of a wolf.

  “I just—” He coughed, shaking his head before trying again. “I know it’s dumb. It’s—you’re already my mate. I know that. I can feel it. Between us. Okay? I can. I know it’s not how it should be, but I know it will be one day. But even if it never gets better than it is right now, then that’s okay. Because I get to have you. I get to love you. I get to be loved by you.”

  “I swear to god,” I said roughly, “if you bring me dead rabbits or a basket of mini muffins, I’m going to skin you myself.”

  “Duly noted,” he said dryly. Then, “Can I give this to you? Please? Gordo. I just—can you take this? From me?”

  He opened the box.

  Inside, lying on a blue cloth, was a stone wolf.

  It looked just as I remembered.

  I gently took it out of the box. It was heavy and ornately carved. The tail was long and thin, and the head was cocked, the wolf’s lips curved as if it was smiling secretly.

  “Yeah,” I told him, because he needed to hear it said out loud. “I’ll take it.”

  He tackled me onto the bed.

  Outside, I could hear Carter and Kelly shouting in joy.

  And in the distance, the howling of wolves.

  WE GATHERED in the office at the house at the end of the lane.

  All of us.

  Ox sat in the chair behind the desk where Abel and Thomas had once been.

  Joe stood at his side, hand on his shoulder.

  Carter leaned near the doorway, the timber wolf lying at his feet.

  Kelly sat on the arm of the sofa against the wall. Robbie was next to him, biting his bottom lip nervously, gaze focused on the tablet in his hand.

  Elizabeth sat next to her son, eyes closed as she waited.

  Rico and Tanner sat on the edge of the desk.

  Jessie and Chris were against a bookcase, arms crossed over their chests.

  Mark and I stood near the window.

  Ox said, “Robbie. It’s time.”

  Robbie nodded as he sighed. Kelly reached up and squeezed his arm. Robbie looked surprised at this, but pleased.

  He tapped on the screen of the tablet.

  The monitor on the wall lit up.

  There was a beep. And then another. And then another.

  And then—

  Michelle Hughes appeared on the screen.

  Her face was blank.

  “Alphas Bennett and Matheson,” she said, voice cool.

  “Alpha Hughes,” Joe said.

  “I must admit I expected to hear from you sooner.” She took in the room. “And the entire pack, no less. This must be important. Robbie, how are you?”

  Robbie’s eyes narrowed. “Do you even care?”

  “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.”

  “I’m fine. I’m with my pack, where I belong.”

  “So I see. You’ve been busy, Bennett pack.”

  “We have,” Joe said. “Which is why we’ve requested this meeting.”

  “A curious thing, that,” she said. “A request. After all that you’ve done. The good people you’ve killed.”

  I snorted. “Lady, you’ve seriously got a fucked-up ideology if you think there was anything good about the hunters. Especially Elijah. You knew her history with this pack.�
��

  “The witches,” she snapped. “The witches those—those things slaughtered.”

  “Casualties of the war you’ve brought upon yourself. If anyone is to blame, it’s you.”

  And that caught her attention. “War. Dale said—”

  “Dale,” I said, a nasty smile on my face. “Is he there? Can he hear me?”

  It only lasted a split second, but her eyes flickered away from the camera before looking back at us. “I don’t see what my witch has to do with—”

  “He ran before we could get to him,” I said, and Mark growled beside me. “He should know there’s nowhere he can go that I won’t find him. And I will find him.”

  “Are you threatening my witch, Livingstone?”

  “You’re goddamn right I am.”

  She glared at me before looking at the Alphas. “I demand that you—”

  “See, that’s where you should stop,” Ox said, and we felt his great anger rolling through us. “Because you don’t have the right to demand anything of us.”

  “You are out of line, Alpha Matheson. I suggest—”

  “It’s time for you to step down,” Ox said, and I saw the moment the words hit her, landing like a punch to her gut. She inhaled sharply. Her eyes looked as if they were filling with blood. “Your time as the Alpha of all has come to an end. My mate, Joe Bennett, is ready to claim what is rightfully his.”

  “It’s far too late for that,” Michelle Hughes said, claws digging into the desktop. “The Bennett pack has proven itself to be the enemy. You have allowed the Omegas into your territory. Into your home. Two of your pack remain infected. I don’t know how you have slowed the process, but it doesn’t matter. They will become feral, and if you don’t kill them first, they will slaughter all of you.”

  “Like you sent the hunters to do to my family?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Elizabeth, I don’t know what they’ve told you—”

  “The truth,” she said easily. “Obviously more than I’d ever expect from the likes of you. That you sit in the position once occupied by my husband is one of the greatest farces to ever befall the wolves. You have to know this will not end well for you. For your people. You were entrusted with the power of the Alpha of all. But it was always meant to be temporary. It belongs to my son.”