by Anya Byrne
It was the first time either of them had said the words out loud, and yet something about it seemed so natural. Sasha had wanted to take his time, since in truth, they hadn't gotten the chance to be together outside this crazy situation with his father. But all things considered, could he really deny what he already knew to be true? It was foolish to wait, especially since he wasn't sure what tomorrow would bring. "I love you too," he replied. "So very much."
Argent settled against his chest, and distantly, Sasha realized his mate had been completely right. Tradition might have claimed tonight was meant to honor their connection, and the moon that blessed it, but Sasha could never stop at just that. And as he held Argent close, he wondered once more what the next day would hold—and if his hopes would give them any more nights together.
Chapter Five
"I thought they were supposed to arrive at dawn." Argent suppressed the urge to pace and stuck his hands in his pockets so that he wouldn't wring them nervously. "Where are they?"
"I wish I knew." Sasha gave him an uncertain look. "They should have been here hours ago, and Laurent isn't answering his phone. This could be bad."
Argent was grateful that his mate wasn't trying to make the situation any less glum. The truth was that both of them had said "the hell with it" the night before, but when the moon had been pushed aside by the sun's rays, they'd received quite a kick in the teeth.
They'd relied on Alpha Fitzroy to come to their help, and if the man didn't follow through with his promise, everything would crumble. Of course, there was very little else they could have done. They'd been forced to stay away from the mansion since by now the silencers must have arrived, and if they left Maximoff lands, the battle for the pack was lost.
"We'll give it five more minutes," Sasha said, "and then we're heading out. For all we know, something could have happened that kept Laurent from coming. We can find the manuscript elsewhere, on our own."
Argent nodded. It wouldn't be easy, but they'd just have to do their best with the hand that was dealt to them. Hopefully, that would be enough.
They were about to depart when Argent heard it, the sound of an approaching jet. Sasha noticed it at the same time and visibly tensed. Since he'd all but convinced himself that Alpha Fitzroy would not arrive in time, Argent was frozen in shock, distantly wondering if they should have left anyway. After all, the only person Argent trusted now was Sasha, and Alpha Fitzroy could easily betray them.
They didn't leave. Of common accord, they waited, completely motionless as they watched the jet come closer. Argent didn't know why, but with every passing second, his dread and apprehension were increasing. He was afraid again, he realized, and he hated it. He'd gained something genuine in his bond with Sasha, and it kept him from fleeing, but he still feared that whatever—or whoever—the jet carried would change him.
He supposed he wasn't wholly surprised that, when the plane landed, the first person who stepped out was a woman. From the very first moment he'd been told of his ancestry, one of the most pressing questions on his mind had been "Where?" Where were his parents? Had they been killed by their own guild?
This particular dilemma was solved now, because of the woman steadily approaching him. She wore a cloak that obscured most of her facial features, and on the whole, she seemed a stranger, but Argent instinctively guessed—no, sensed—her identity.
What was he supposed to feel at the first sight of his mother in.... forever? Was he supposed to be angry? Sad? Relieved? Happy? Argent couldn't quite pinpoint any emotion he could stick with so he just stared and forced himself to breathe.
And then, Sasha was there, his warm presence steadying, safe, familiar. His fingers threaded through Argent's own and Argent's head cleared a little, his heart anchored in the present, instead of being lost in the past.
Still, when the woman spoke, it hurt, more than Argent would have liked. "Bonjour, mon cher," she said. "I've missed you."
Argent bit the inside of his cheek so hard it bled. "Have you?" he asked. Perhaps he should have displayed more tact, but he felt raw, exposed like a nerve, and he didn't think he could accept it if she suddenly came back into his life acting like nothing had happened.
His mother—because yes, she was his mother and he couldn't think of her as "the woman" forever—didn't seem surprised by his reaction. She nodded calmly, and Argent wished he could see her eyes as she replied, "I have indeed. But I know discussing it is the last thing on your mind right now."
As if on cue, Alpha Fitzroy stepped out of the plane, followed by a man Argent didn't know. "Quite right," he said. "We've found something that is likely to interest you a great deal. But first let me make the introductions. Alpha Maximoff, Mr. Hull, this is my brother Remy. Remy, this is my friend Aleksandr Maximoff and his mate, Argent."
"I've heard a great deal about you," Remy said, arranging his glasses on his nose.
It was the first time Argent had seen a werewolf with glasses, and he wondered why the man was wearing them. He also didn't miss the fact that Laurent had addressed Sasha as Alpha. While it could be a reference to Sasha's born Alpha status, Argent doubted that was the case.
Shaking himself, Argent forced a smile and replied, "I hope they're all good things. We appreciate you coming all this way to help us."
"I couldn't not come," Remy replied without missing a beat. "I owe your parents a debt, and besides, this is bigger than you—than all of us."
The cryptic words confused Argent, especially since Alpha Fitzroy had been so reticent to help him and Sasha when they'd first mentioned Argent's silencer parentage. Whatever Remy's debt was, though, neither of those present seemed willing to dwell on it.
Alpha Fitzroy cleared his throat, his expression grave. "I looked into the manuscript we spoke of on the phone, but what I found puzzled me a great deal. Not even my version of the original Secrecy Accords held the Guild Laws."
Argent gaped. "How is that possible? The Laws were included in the Accords."
"It seems someone went through each copy and systematically removed the details of the Guild Laws from the Accords transcripts owned by each Alpha," Remy replied. "Truth be told, we could have helped very little—but the digging we did drew some attention."
"I knew you'd need me one day," Argent's mother said, and her voice sounded tired and old, "and I knew you'd need this secret. It's kept me alive for so long, and in a way, it's become a burden."
"What is it?" Argent prodded. "Who meddled with the Accords?"
"I don't know that," his mother answered. "Your father and I... We never got to find out."
Her voice trembled slightly, and just like that, Argent knew he was an orphan, at least on one side. He wondered how it was that his mother had survived her mate's death. He started to tremble too, and he was grateful when Sasha wrapped a steadying arm around his shoulders.
His mother must have noticed, and must have guessed his internal conflict, because she didn't prolong his agony. She finally dropped the hood that had been obscuring her features, fixing him with green eyes identical to his own. "Everything he and I did, Argent... It was worth it, because you're here now. You're alive, and you have a mate, and that's what matters."
Argent wanted to come up with some sort of answer, but he found himself incapable of speech. At some corner of his mind, he was laughing hysterically—because no wonder Sasha's mother had figured out his ancestry. He was almost a male copy of his mother.
After a small pause, she continued to speak. "We never wanted to leave you behind. You must know that. But it was the only way to keep you safe. Maria was the closest thing I had to a friend, and I knew she would protect you." She stared out into the distance, as if seeing something Argent couldn't hope to glimpse. "We were being pursued for daring to be mates. We knew it was only a matter a time until we were found, so we sought something, anything that could give us an out. It took many years, and nothing seemed to work—until we managed to find one of the oldest werewolves in the world... or rather he
agreed to meet us. It was... too late for your father. We were located that day, and he was shot."
The tremors had increased visibly the more she spoke. Despite his earlier misgivings, Argent pulled away from his mate and hugged her, hoping to at least give her a measure of comfort. He wasn't sure he could comfort himself, let alone someone else, but he needed to try, if only because he could too easily put himself in her position.
Thankfully, Sasha stayed with him, resting his hand in the small of Argent's back even as Argent held his mother. It worked, for both of them. Argent didn't collapse under the weight of all this emotion, and his mother squeezed him tightly, but went on, this time with more composure. "It was worth it," she said again. "That werewolf... I never even knew his name, but he gave me the secret I needed to survive, and it's kept me safe ever since."
"It seems that the silencer position was never meant to be permanent," Alpha Fitzroy said. "According to the Accords, a silencer was only allowed to do this job for a maximum of four decades before he or she had to be reintegrated into their respective pack, pride, or whatever group they came from. Further more, the Guild Laws did say that a silencer could not have a mate—but in the context of stating that, should a silencer meet his or her other half, their duties would be passed onto someone else. No one could expect a shifter—especially a werewolf—to solve such specific problems while having their heart set on love."
Argent was in shock. If Alpha Fitzroy was to be believed, the guild had no influence over him, for two reasons. But like Remy had said, this was bigger than him, bigger than all of them. If life as a silencer had a 'deadline', most of the guilds would be rendered obsolete. The scourgings silencers regularly received as punishment were unlawful. The implications were momentous.
"Why?" Sasha asked, echoing Argent's thoughts. "Why didn't you say anything until now?"
"Why do you think, Alpha Maximoff? I was afraid. As long as Argent wasn't old enough to be out of their reach, I couldn't chance it. I've been considering it lately, but I didn't want to stir trouble and attract attention to him. Truth be told, I don't know if I'd have ever come forward if they hadn't tried to hurt my son."
"Which makes me wonder why they decided to attack now," Remy mused. "I mean... Even if they just recently learned Mr. Hull's location, they should have anticipated that you'd use this against them."
It was a fair point, and Argent couldn't even hope to find an answer to that question. He decided they needed to take one problem at a time—and for that purpose, they had to deal with the Maximoff pack and their guests first.
His mother seemed to agree. "Perhaps the guild thought they'd be able to capture Argent and use him against me. But there's time enough to investigate the rest later. My mate... He's already waited for too long."
The words broke something inside Argent. It suddenly felt unbearable that he knew so little about the man who had been his father, and the woman who was his mother. "What was his name?" he asked. "What's yours?"
His mother blinked, as if she'd just now realized that she hadn't introduced herself. "Blanchefleur," she said slowly. "His name... Your father's name was... Sylvain."
One word shouldn't have been able to hold so much pain, so much anger, sorrow, grief and exhaustion—but it did. And beneath all that, Argent saw the love, and he hated the price his parents had been forced to pay for his safety.
His mother was right. It was high time his father was avenged, and maybe after that, she could rest as well. Argent would hate losing her so soon after they'd reunited, but he wasn't cruel enough to expect anything different. Like Sasha had said, mates weren't meant to live without one another. His mother had endured because of him, but once he was safe, she could be free.
As they headed back toward the Maximoff residence, though, Argent couldn't help but feel there was something else he was missing. Beyond all the secrets that had been uncovered, beyond the still existing dilemmas, there was an unidentifiable issue that niggled at the back of his consciousness, or maybe in his heart. By the time this was over, he knew, his life would change even more.
****
Silencers brought silence. It was how they had received their name, even if a more accurate descriptor would have been "assassin." Sasha had never understood the title more than the moment he walked into the courtyard of his home and found only stillness.
"Where is everyone?" Argent asked in a whisper.
Sasha doubted the guild had decided to wipe out the Maximoff pack, but the eerie quiet unsettled him. "I don't know, but I'm pretty sure we'll find out."
Confirming his words and perhaps providing a peculiar form of relief, his father emerged from the house. He was followed by a man Sasha didn't know, but could easily enough identify as a silencer. There was something dark about him, like night itself glowing in his eyes, the promise of death written in his sharp features more crisply than it had ever been on the face of Sasha's father.
His smile was fierce and feral when he saw Argent, and he opened his mouth to speak. He never got the chance to utter a single word. Perhaps he sensed Blanchefleur, because he scowled and shut his mouth, even if her smaller form wasn't visible from where she now stood, behind Sasha.
Either way, it didn't really matter. As other members of Sasha's pack and of the guild came out of the mansion, Blanchefleur stepped forward. "Hello, Florent."
"Sister," the silencer greeted her warily. "You look well."
"Do I? Well, I appreciate you saying that. Perhaps you wanted to see me so much that you decided to break your word."
Florent's somewhat friendly stance melted back into pure vitriol and hostility. "You don't know anything, Blanchefleur. You wouldn't dare to—"
"Please." She scoffed, interrupting him. "My son is beyond your reach. A silencer can only fulfill his or her duties for forty years, before he or she must be reintegrated into shifter society. Furthermore, silencers can leave at any time if they meet their mates."
Sasha's father laughed. "Nonsense. Everyone knows silencers don't have mates."
"Indeed they don't," Blanchefleur replied, "as long as they are silencers—which they stop being the moment their lives become focused on their bond with their mates. And no, it's not nonsense. It is in the Guild Laws—the Laws that were hidden from us to keep us enslaved, scourged, convinced that we are unlovable monsters."
Several of the silencers present paled visibly. Some glared at Blanchefleur in anger, but Sasha saw a desperate hope behind their fury—as if they believed she was toying with them, and nothing like that could possibly be true.
Florent didn't bother with politeness any more. "Lies. You have no proof, nothing."
"Actually, she does," Laurent intervened. "She came to me with her copy of the Guild Laws. My brother and I have already confirmed its authenticity. Furthermore, we plan on summoning a Gathering as soon as possible, to further investigate the inconsistencies in our transcripts of the Accords. In the meantime, until further notice and with the authority of the Gathering, you are forbidden to act in the capacity of a silencer, as are all the members of your guild that have belonged to it for more than four decades."
"You can't do this." Florent spluttered. "You're just one Alpha. You can't control us."
And maybe that would have been the case, but the silencers in his guild seemed quite willing to embrace this development. In fact, all of them stepped back into the shadows, leaving Florent standing alone. It seemed that, even if they risked being punished should Blanchefleur's tale be fake, they were willing to take the chance. Given what Sasha knew of Florent, he couldn't say he was surprised.
"Now... You and I have a score to settle." Blanchefleur took her cloak off and passed it to Argent. "You killed my mate, and I will claim your life in return. I've waited for decades to be sure my son is beyond your reach, but not anymore."
"Sister, you cannot be serious. Think about what you're doing. Surely you realize I never wanted—"
"I don't care," she cut him off with a scream. "I don
't care what you think, feel or want. Shift, if you don't want me to gut you where you stand."
She changed shapes, freeing herself from her clothes with an ease born out of longtime practice. Florent did the same, if somewhat more slowly than her. Everyone stepped back, giving them space. In many ways, this entire confrontation was because of Argent, but Sasha held his wolf in check. This was Blanchefleur's revenge, and she deserved to shed her brother's blood. Unlike Sasha, she no longer had a mate to protect, and Florent had to pay for her almost palpable pain.
Naturally, if she lost—which Sasha very much doubted—he had every intention of challenging Florent in her stead, and ending this permanently. For the moment, he held onto Argent, trying to comfort his trembling mate.
It could have ended poorly. Argent was afraid it would—Sasha realized that much. After all, the two silencers were most likely evenly matched in terms of strength. In fact, Florent might even be the stronger of the two.
But Blanchefleur had an advantage her brother simply lacked. He might be fighting for his life, but she was fighting for two—her own, and the life she had lost, that of her mate.
It was savage, and long overdue. Florent waited until she attacked, perhaps planning to catch her off balance, or find some sort of opening. When she struck, though, she did so with an anger and an abandonment that Sasha understood better than most. It was the same anger that had bubbled inside him when he'd found Argent trapped and hurting, the same dark fury that he barely managed to keep in check solely due to Argent's presence.
If he held onto Argent tighter when Blanchefleur tore into her brother's jugular, no one mentioned it. Perhaps they didn't even notice, didn't notice the fact that he smiled, feeling vindicated at least in some respect.
No, that wasn't it. His father did see it, and from his spot straight across from Sasha, he paled. Despite the distance, Sasha had a good view of him fidgeting nervously as he eyed Blanchefleur's more than enthusiastic display. She made quite a mess, ravaging, clawing, tearing into flesh despite Florent's attempts to dislodge her. She didn't even stop when her brother's seizing faltered and faded. Maybe Sasha's father could see himself in the silencer leader's position. The moon only knew that a dark part of Sasha wanted to follow Blanchefleur's example.