by RS McCoy
“It’s not a direct violation—” Da had barely gotten started before Lathan, Hale, and Raene all agreed. He put up a few more minutes of fight, but it was clear Lathan’s words weren’t taken lightly. With both sons on her side, Da caved with a long sigh. “All right, get her home. Maybe when Parson gets back—”
Raene didn’t hear the rest as Lathan placed one of his massive hands on the middle of her back and propelled her toward the tent’s flap. She didn’t know him in the slightest, but he was the best option she had. He was the only one she might not have to marry.
So, despite her reservations and fears and discomfort, Raene walked beside him as they emerged into the sunlit clearing. “Go ahead and take a few minutes to say goodbye.”
Raene was momentarily confused, looking at Lathan for an answer.
Then she remembered Olin. He’d done his job. He’d brought her to the Alderwood clan. And now, he had no further reason to stay.
Olin stood at attention, waiting for her one last time. Despite his proud smile, his eyes dimmed with regret. She knew he didn’t want to leave her.
The realization of his departure hit her like a boulder falling from the sky. Raene felt empty, flattened by the prospect of saying goodbye to the only person she had left. She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him tight. “Take care of him for me,” she whispered, biting back the tears that stung her eyes.
Olin held her tight, clinging to her embrace one last time. “You take care of yourself, Rain Drop. You’ve got your mother’s blood and your uncle’s charm. You just make sure and use it if you need to.” When he stepped away, Olin’s eyes glistened in a way she’d never seen from him. That, more than anything, made her heart ache.
First Kaide, then Norsa. Now Olin. This was really happening. She was really going to stay here. As Olin took his first steps back toward the horses, Raene struggled to find the words to tell him goodbye.
Da stepped in to fill the silence. “Thank you, Master Olin, for delivering our daughter to us. Please tell the Vice Syndicate she’ll be well looked after, as our Blossom is with him.”
The reminder of Blossom’s absence was heavy enough to crush her.
“Olin—” she called after him. She wanted to make sure Kaide got the news, but her voice lost its strength.
Kaide’s serviceman only turned and nodded. “I’ll tell him.” He understood her, as he always had. Raene breathed easier, but still the confusion and dread settled into her gut.
Then, with nothing left to say, Olin walked to the horses, and with a last lingering glance back, he disappeared into the Alderwood. It felt so wrong to watch him leave that way, to know she’d never see him again, that he’d go back to Pyrona and live his life without her.
Raene could only stare after him in shocked silence. Cut off from everyone she’d ever known, Raene would never learn Blossom’s fate—for better or worse. She was trapped alone in the forest with this endless guilt and regret. Already, it filled her with a suffocating heaviness. Her tiger blood bubbled to the surface, her totem desperate to get out and run.
Lathan reappeared at her side and pressed a gentle hand on her back. “Our tent is just over here.” His voice was quiet, and he spoke with such care that Raene couldn’t help but follow him. Lathan’s touch, his deep voice, was all that kept her grounded in the chaos of the day.
It was all so much. It was all so fast. In two days she’d earned her tiger totem, crossed the realm, and met the men who could be her future husband. And if that wasn’t enough, she was plagued with the new knowledge that Blossom had never come home.
Her mind spun with the possibilities. Did she run home only to be killed by a street gang along the way? Was she collected as a favor for the Prentis? Did she go somewhere else entirely? Raene didn’t even know if Blossom was still alive.
Raene was so mixed up she couldn’t even see straight. Had it not been for Lathan’s guiding hand, Raene would have simply stopped and collapsed in the clearing. She couldn’t bear the weight of so many decisions, so many secrets. They were too heavy.
Like a phantom, she let Lathan lead her to a tent on the far side of the clearing. It had a bear silhouette painted over the flap and was slightly smaller, but otherwise, it was identical to Da’s. He lifted the flap and let her in.
Inside, the space was perfectly dark until Lathan pinned open the flap. Scattered rays of afternoon sun streamed in and revealed a floor of vibrant carpets and colorful pillows. The perimeter was lined with a series of low cabinets, stacks of fabrics—all Terra green and brown—and in the center, a wide bowl of still-smoldering ashes.
Without a word, Lathan strode through the tent and sank onto one of the pillows, sitting tall with his legs crossed. His shoulders were impossibly wide, and his arms looked powerful enough to strangle a lion. He had a strong jaw and quiet eyes of the darkest pine green, almost black. In the quiet that hung between them, he breathed easily. He was comfortable without words, satisfied in his silence.
Raene couldn’t decide if she liked that or not.
When Raene remained standing, he motioned to the pillow beside him. As soon as she thought about sitting comfortably on the cushion, she wanted to do nothing else. Exhaustion pulled her down beside the stranger. She would have loved to curl up in the dark space, clutch her knees to her chest, and waste away her days, but Raene would suffer no such breach in decorum. Instead, she crossed her legs in front of her and mirrored Lathan’s stoic calm, working to even her breaths in spite of the storm in her chest.
For the time being, she was content sitting in a dark tent in silence. The quiet soothed her restless totem, and she felt a little less like she was going to explode.
Until two forms filled the tent entrance.
At first, Raene could only see the shapes of a man and a woman, but after a moment, she recognized one of them as Hale.
Just the sight of him made her stiffen. He was handsome, surely, and he seemed reasonable and respectful, but the pressure of her decision made her nervous to even be in his presence. Raene did her best to look as calm as Lathan.
“Sorry we took so long. She was out at the Connor gardens,” Hale explained.
The woman ignored him and stepped into the tent. Her large brown eyes were focused on Raene as she neared and sank to a pillow. “You must be Raene.”
Lathan cleared his throat and said, “Raene Randal of the Tiger Clan of Mount Huntari. And this,” he motioned to the woman, “is Tasia Frane of the Bear Clan of the Alderwood. My wife,” he added, as if Raene hadn’t figured it out.
Then, deciding his introductions were done, Lathan pushed to standing and lovingly kissed Tasia’s cheek. They exchanged a long look, rich with emotion and meaning Raene couldn’t begin to understand. Then, without another word, Lathan left, taking Hale with him.
Whatever peace Raene had earned with Lathan was gone as soon as he was. She remained with his wife and her disapproving stare. For someone with a deer-totem tattoo, Tasia looked less like a woodland doe and more like an angry jackal. Raene no longer felt welcome, though she wasn’t entirely sure why.
Tasia and Raene sat in heavy silence for several minutes until, without warning, Tasia rose and began tending to the various items around the tent’s perimeter. Raene watched as Tasia collected a pair of wooden goblets and a thin metal plate. Only when the goblets were filled with wine and the plate piled high with fruit did Tasia take her seat again.
“Go on. You must be hungry.”
In fact, Raene was starving, but she wasn’t in the mood for peaches or cherries or whatever those little green ones were. Her mouth watered for something else. Something breathing.
So Raene collected a goblet and drank the wine instead. It was horribly bitter compared to the sweet strawberry wine of Pyrona, but all in all, it was drinkable. All too soon, she’d emptied the goblet, and Tasia hadn’t said another word.
When she did speak, Raene wished she hadn’t. Tasia clutched a berry in her fingers, biting it in half as she as
ked, “You met Blossom in Pyrona?”
Raene swallowed hard and nodded.
“I’m not going to ask. I’m not sure I want to know. I don’t trust Pyros.” She munched on the rest of the berry and ate a few more before she continued, “But if anything happened to her—anything at all—you keep it to yourself, you understand?”
Raene froze, unsure what that was supposed to mean. Did Tasia know something about Blossom’s disappearance? “Kaide would never hurt—”
“I don’t want to know.” Tasia sighed and wiped her hands on her pants. “Bears are dangerous. I’m sure you’re used to that, but out here, there’s no one to stop them. If any Frane, including my husband, was to learn that Blossom had been harmed, it would be very dangerous for the rest of us. No matter what you know, you keep it to yourself.”
“All right,” Raene replied, not really sure how to take such advice. Her thoughts were a mess; she didn’t want to argue about things she couldn’t help. Instead, she extended her goblet for more wine.
Tasia’s lip curled into a smile. “Get it yourself. You’re not a Pyro princess anymore, remember?”
Raene’s mouth fell open, not at the words—those she knew were true—but that this woman would be so callous as to remind her. “I meant no disrespect,” Raene managed to say.
But Tasia only smiled, like this was all so amusing. Raene felt like the butt of a joke no one had bothered to tell her. “If you don’t screw it up, you could be a Terra princess. The Franes are as famous as the Alderwood itself. It’s not all bad.”
“I’m not Terra. I’m Pyro.” Raene stretched her neck to show the red-and-black tiger tattoo, all too aware how the woman hated her for it.
Tasia shrugged. “Even so, there are worse families to be traded to. Get to know them a little. You’ll see.”
“I don’t have to get to know them. I have to marry one, and that’s as far as my obligations go.” After her days of grief and her less-than-warm welcome to the Bear Clan, Raene’s enthusiasm was all but gone.
But Tasia only laughed. “Suit yourself. No one can make you get to know them. But that will make for an awkward evening for you.” She laughed so hard she had to cover her mouth to keep from spewing half-chewed berries across the tent.
“What do you mean?” Raene rubbed at the wrinkle in her brow.
“Da’s organizing a celebration for you. For your arrival and your birthday. The whole clan is gathering as we speak.” Tasia collected both goblets and refilled them before sitting down again.
Raene accepted hers and continued to drink, wondering what sparked the change in Tasia’s attitude. “Can I tell him I don’t want a celebration?”
Tasia clutched at her ribs in hearty laughter. “Oh, you can try, but it won’t do any good. You’ll see. Da gets his heart set and that’s that.”
“Everyone really calls him Da?” Raene had never heard of a clan that used such an informal title for their leader. She’d never been particularly close to her actual father, and now she was supposed to call someone else Da?
“That’s what he wants.” Then, Tasia dusted her hands on her pants and stood. “Come on. We’ll get you ready, and then I’ll show you around.”
Raene sighed and downed the last of her wine. She knew she couldn’t stay in the tent all day, but she didn’t know if she was ready to see the whole clan. It was all too surreal.
At least she’d be spared seeing them while she freshened up. Getting ready for an event with Norsa and Valenta had been one of her favorite activities at the manor.
But Raene never expected the dismal reality Tasia showed her. The dirt floors and rudimentary candles were nothing compared to the lack of running water. No sink to wash her face. No washroom to handle personal business. No tub to soak away the stresses of the day.
Instead, Tasia presented Raene with a copper basin of water. It had been warmed slightly over a fire, but it was far from hot. Between that and the simple rag, Raene had scarcely felt less clean after a wash. How did people live this way?
When she was as fresh as she could manage, Tasia gave her a salve to run through her hair. It smelled nice enough and removed the grease, but Raene still didn’t feel like it was clean. She braided her hair once more and donned fresh Pyro clothes before she pushed past the tent flap and found Tasia waiting in the cleaning.
“I didn’t mean to kick you out of your own home.” Raene offered, at a loss as to why the woman hadn’t stayed in the first place.
“Modesty for the Mother,” Tasia replied with her gaze on the slit of exposed skin between Raene’s scarlet shirt and black pants.
Raene forced herself not to roll her eyes. “So what do you want to show me?” She was eager to avoid the celebration and the Frane brothers as long as possible.
Tasia pointed back at the tent and said, “This is Lathan’s tent, and mine, of course. He has the stronger totem, so it’s marked here above the flap. He’s the first son of the clan leader, so his tent is larger than most.”
At the mention of totems, Raene remembered Tasia’s deer. “Do you miss your family?” Raene asked, surprised by her own question.
Tasia’s gaze remained even on the bear over the flap. “I’ve been with the Franes for five years now. I love my husband, and I love his family, but yes, there are times I miss my home.” At that, Tasia started along the worn path between tents.
Raene slipped her hands into her pockets and fell in step beside her. “How did it happen for you? Did you know the Franes wanted to trade for you?” If anyone knew how it felt to be in Raene’s place, it was surely Tasia.
And after she’d taken the time to help Raene freshen up—as limited as it had been—Raene found she didn’t dislike the woman as much as she had initially. Raene hung on her every word.
Tasia’s laughter rang between the tents and trees. “The Franes aren’t the wealthiest clan, but they have three bear sons. Every clan in the Alderwood has offered to trade a daughter at one point or another. When Lathan came of age, he had two dozen offers. The Ape Clan offered all three of their daughters. The Raccoon Clan to the north offered a daughter and enough alders to fund the camp for a decade. Even a pair of Hydra clans offered daughters for trade.”
Raene’s eyebrows shot up at the extensive list. She’d known bears were valuable in the Alderwood—Blossom had told her as much—but Raene would never have guessed there was so much competition for one.
“That’s impressive,” Raene admitted, “that Lathan picked you out of so many offers.”
“Oh, he didn’t. It was Da. They were pretty close to making a trade with the Fox Clan to the south, but when my father offered me, Da accepted. No one really knows why.” She pointed to the next tent, a small one with some sort of horned deer over the flap. “That’s Asla Brimmen’s tent. He only recently came of age and earned his own. He’ll get a larger tent when he takes a wife.”
“Do I get my own tent?” Raene asked, but she already knew the answer.
“Technically, yes. You’re a woman of age. But you have to abide by the restrictions of the arrangement. You can stay with me and Lathan until you make your choice. Lathan said you have a month, so there’s no rush.” Tasia waved it off, as if a couple weeks was some interminable length of time. But Raene felt the opposite; the deadline for her decision loomed over her, pressing down more desperately than the ever-present alder trees.
Tasia and Raene continued around the camp as Tasia pointed to tents and named people Raene didn’t know. Each person gawked at her like she was a new babe. They studied her hair, her clothes, her skin, her height. “Why are they looking at me like that?” Raene dared to ask Tasia.
“Aside from your uncle, they’ve never seen a Pyro. And you’re—your clothes are, shall we say, unorthodox?” Tasia smiled to show she didn’t mean offense.
Raene was glad for the honesty. And she was curious about them, too. They all had the same walnut-brown hair and eyes the color of chocolate or hazel. Their skin was milky white, a stark contrast to
Raene’s bronzed complexion. She marveled at how similar they all looked to one another, yet so different from her.
Minutes into Tasia’s tour, they passed a small tent lacking a totem. When Raene paused, Tasia named it as Blossom’s tent. No one had the heart to take it down.
Just the sight of it made her chest ache. Raene fought to breathe as they hurried past, but it only got worse from there. After yet another dozen tents of strangers, Raene found a face she knew.
The man she’d only seen for a few seconds in Da’s tent.
Parson Frane.
The son who ran from her.
He stood tall in front of his tent—larger than most and marked with his bear totem—with his hands in his pockets and his gaze focused on the trees on the far side of the clearing.
“Ah, there you are,” Tasia teased him as she stopped in front of him. “Raene, I don’t believe you got the chance to meet Parson, second son of the Bear Clan. Parson, I’m sure you’re delighted to meet Raene Randal.”
“Delighted,” Parson repeated, his voice cold and monotone. If Raene had to guess, she’d think someone put him up to it. Probably Lathan.
Tasia was having too much fun. She couldn’t even manage to conceal her smile as she said, “Parson here is the best dancer in the clan—in any clan, it’s said. Perhaps you’ll be lucky enough to earn a dance with him at the celebration tonight.”
Parson only flared his nostrils and continued staring at the trees. Waves of anger rolled off him hard enough to force Raene to take a step back.
But Tasia would have none of it. She cupped Raene’s elbow and pushed her in front of Parson, despite his refusal to look at her. If she hadn’t seen his emerald eyes in Da’s tent, she’d have no idea what color they were. He was determined to stay away from her, only she didn’t know why. Her thoughts raced with self-conscious doubt. Was her hair a mess? Was her face too plain? Was her skin too dark?
She hated that he had unnerved her so completely in only seconds.