Raene and the Three Bears (The Alder Tales Book 2)

by RS McCoy

  The afternoon hours came and went with nothing but the sounds of trotting horses and rolling cart wheels. Neither Raene nor Parson had anything to say to the other, and for a while, the space between them was enough.

  Raene was left to mull over her thoughts of Hale. She liked him, and to her surprise, she missed him. This would have been a welcome adventure had she shared it with someone she enjoyed. But unlike Parson, Hale wouldn’t condone her hunting, he wouldn’t stop to make sure she let off some steam.

  He’d be so disappointed in her. Only hours away from camp and Raene had already killed a handful of innocents. She dreaded the look in his eye when she told him—if she told him.

  At nightfall, Parson steered the horses off the road and headed into the east woods a few minutes longer before he stopped altogether. One by one, he pulled the horses from the rig and led them to the nearby stream.

  Raene wondered if it was the same stream they’d met at so many times before.

  When all seven horses were watered, tied to a tree, and grazing on what food he’d brought for them, Parson collected a large green bag and started up the nearest tree. The sight of him climbing the massive tree brought back memories of Blossom. The last time Raene saw her, she was sitting high atop an alder branch. Raene had fostered such hope for Blossom and Kaide. The sudden thought renewed the ache in Raene’s chest.

  Once up high enough, Parson impaled a long bolt. From it, he attached the bag and let it unroll. All at once Raene realized what he was installing—a tent. It wasn’t as nice or as large as Hale’s, but it would do for the night.

  And then she realized there was only one.

  “Ready?” Parson centered his bow and quiver across his chest and waited.

  “I’m not going.” It had been a mistake to go before. Hale expected more from her, and she was determined not to fail him again. Raene straightened and lifted her chin, anticipating his response.

  But he only shrugged and set his bow and quiver against the side of the tent. “All right.”

  She blinked when he didn’t argue. “You don’t have to stay. You can go.”

  Parson sat and shook his head. “Hale’s already going to be furious about this. If he finds out I left you alone to go hunt—”

  “But you already let me go out to hunt,” she protested. “I was alone for an hour in the woods. You weren’t worried about it then.”

  “No I wasn’t.”

  Raene scoffed, trying not to hit him. “You don’t make any sense, you know that?”

  Parson’s tense mouth transformed into a playful smirk. “Finally figured it out, did you?” He shook his head as he laughed. “I tried to tell you. I’m not like them. I let you go out because you needed it. But I can manage without for a few days.”

  “And I can’t manage?” Raene didn’t know whether to feel glad or insulted or downright furious.

  Parson shot to his feet and met her eyes with his. “No, you were already struggling. They can’t see it. They don’t even know what it looks like. But I do. I spent a long time doing it your way, and it doesn’t work. But if you want to keep struggling, then I won’t stop you.”

  “I wasn’t struggling,” she argued, no longer sure who she was trying to convince.

  Parson ran a hand through his hair. “Then why do you cry? After every hunt, I say two words and you burst into tears every time. Because you’re always struggling to hold it in, and once it’s gone, everything else breaks loose.” His eyes shimmered with confidence. He knew he was right, deep in his bones.

  “I didn’t cry today.” Raene lifted her chin in a pathetic sort of pride. Such a great accomplishment: a whole day without crying!

  “No, you didn’t. I guess that means you don’t need to hunt.” Parson seemed almost disappointed. He sank back to the ground in the tent opening and slouched, his eyes on his hands as they fidgeted in his lap.

  “You don’t need to watch me. I’m sure I can sit in a tent by myself for a few hours.” Raene collapsed beside him to prove it.

  “You’ll tell Hale.”

  Raene gaped at the insult. “What? No I won’t—”

  “It’s fine. You should.”

  “So what’s your problem, exactly? That I tell him things? Or that I don’t?”

  Parson’s jaw tensed at her questions. He was getting agitated, but she didn’t care anymore. He’d flip-flopped on her so many times she didn’t even know where to begin.

  “Both!” Parson jumped to his feet and paced between the trees. “You lie to him when it suits you. He still doesn’t know about the elk, does he?” he shouted before he went off again. “But when it’s something that could ruin, entirely ruin, our relationship, then that. You can tell him that.” Both his hands were on his head, raking through his hair with frantic motions as Raene stared wide-eyed. “You can tell me you want to try this out when you feel like it, and five minutes later he’s kissing your cheek, and you’ve changed your mind. You can hunt when you think you can get away with it, but if you think Hale will find out, you’ll suffer for days.”

  Back and forth he paced, his hands continuing their tracks through his hair as he launched into yet another spew of words at her. “And you can’t tell him anything that has to do with Pyrona. You won’t even tell him you hate it here. He doesn’t know anything about you.”

  And then, Raene had had enough. Like a spring twig, she snapped and rushed to her feet. Parson stopped his pacing long enough for Raene to arrive before him, her eyes boring into his as she said, “And what? You think you know me? Is that it? You know me and he doesn’t? You don’t know the first thing about me!” Her voice was a shrill yell, so unladylike and crass, but consumed with anger, she was beyond caring.

  Parson didn’t even bat an eye at her uncharacteristic display. Instead, he lowered his voice and speared her through. “I know you can’t sleep because you’re thinking about a hunt. I know you feel better as a tiger than you ever do as a human. And I know the idea of giving it up terrifies you.” Parson’s rant slowed to a stop as he realized the effect of his words.

  Silent tears raced down her cheeks. She could only stare at him, stunned in silence as her guilt and shame and fear tracked down her face.

  Parson covered both cheeks with his hands. Raene slammed her eyes shut, willing him to leave her alone. She squeezed her hands into tight fists and felt the edges of Hale’s rings digging into her skin.

  “After that, I don’t know. You won’t talk to anyone. You keep it all locked up. And this is what happens if you don’t—” Raene never found out what he was going to say because his lips slammed into hers. Renewed tears fell and struck his fingertips where he clutched her cheeks, but Raene could only think about his kiss.

  Then Parson pulled away. His eyes were closed as he pressed his forehead to hers. “Just promise you’ll give me a few days. Talk to me. Hunt. Just be who you are, and when we get back, we don’t have to ever talk about it again. We never tell Hale or Da or any of them. Just give me these few days,” he pleaded.

  And like she knew she shouldn’t, Raene nodded. She would likely always hate this betrayal to Hale, but Raene was powerless against Parson’s intensity.

  Three days of freedom hunting in the Alderwood. It was the best she was going to get. Not even Raene could resist such a gift.

  When they returned, things would go back to the way they should be. She would tell Hale of all that happened, she would be honest. She could only hope he would forgive her.

  Cool air rushed in as Parson hurried away. She watched him collect his bow and quiver, strapping them across his shoulders, before he returned to clutch her hand. He tugged her away from their tent, away from the horses, as he said, “Come on. Let’s hunt.”

  Seconds later, tiger claws struck the ground, and she ran.

  Parson collapsed on the padded floor of the tiny tent he’d packed. Had he known Raene was coming, he would have opted for something larger, but now that she lay within reach, he couldn’t regret it. After hours
of hunting, of filling their bellies with gifts from the forest, Parson brought her back to their temporary camp. And he’d never seen her so relaxed.

  In black shorts and a slender top she’d brought from Pyrona, she sat cross-legged beside him, taming her hair back into its usual golden braid. Minutes ago, she’d been a fierce tiger huntress. Now, a pristine Pyro princess sat before him. It was almost unfathomable.

  “You have blood on your lip,” she said with an easy smile as she reached up to wipe it away with her thumb. Then, her brows narrowed as she wiped harder. “It’s dried on,” she said with a pout.

  The remains of the fallow deer they shared, no doubt. “Does it bother you?”

  Raene smiled again and shook her head.

  “Good, because you have a pretty good splatter on your cheek, too.” Parson ran his finger across the space between her mouth and ear. Then, without thinking, he tipped forward and licked it off. Parson would never tire of the taste of blood, and with Raene so still and at ease in his hands, he couldn’t make himself stop.

  When he’d removed every last trace of blood, Parson pulled away to find her eyes shut, her head tilted to give him access, and her skin flushed. She melted into his hand cupped against her cheek.

  Her sapphire-blue eyes cracked open and bored into him, as piercing as an arrow.

  “I—That was—” Parson failed to form an explanation for his strange behavior.

  “Did you just lick me?” she asked in that pointed way of hers.

  Parson swallowed hard.

  Just when he was sure she would be angry, Raene straightened and tipped forward. He almost pulled back until he remembered the blood on his lip. Sure enough, she pressed her mouth against the very spot, sucking for only a moment before she clamped her teeth down and bit—hard enough to make him bleed.

  “Did you just bite me?” Parson pressed a hand to his lip, not needing to see his crimson fingertips to know she’d gotten him pretty good.

  But Raene only grinned from ear-to-ear and nodded.

  Parson was both horrified and impressed, and in the confusion, he could only stare at her with a gaping open mouth, an idiot before her.

  “What?” she asked when he continued to stare, though her smile didn’t falter.

  Parson shook his head to organize his thoughts. “You just—you’re different than you were when you first got here. I thought you were polite.” He didn’t mean it to sound bad, but somehow it did.

  But to Parson’s relief, Raene threw her head back and roared with laughter. One of the slim, black straps of her shirt slipped off her shoulder, but she was too busy laughing to fix it. “I am polite,” she purred.

  “So biting is polite in Pyrona?” Parson shot her a look.

  “I’m sure it is in some circles, but no, not really. But we’re not in Pyrona. We’re in the middle of a giant forest. Being polite isn’t really a life skill here.” It was her turn to shoot him a look.

  “Good.” Parson wiped away the last of the blood from his lip. “It was a little uncomfortable.”

  “My being polite makes you uncomfortable?”

  Parson shrugged. He wasn’t trying to offend her, but he knew he was walking that fine line. “Sometimes it does. When you’re not sincere, it’s pretty awkward. I mean, Thank you for your candor, Master Frane? Really?”

  Raene giggled and pressed her face into her hands laughing. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

  He nodded and told her, “When you give up trying to be nice, it’s better. What you said to Da this morning, about Blossom being his daughter, that was the first real thing you’ve said since you got here.”

  Raene straightened and leveled an even gaze at him. “I shouldn’t have said that. He’s my clan lead—”

  “That. That right there. You meant every word. You screamed it. And now you’re taking it back. He’s not even here, and you’re being polite about it.”

  Raene bristled. “And what would you suggest? Go around saying every damn thought that comes into my head. That works so well for you.”

  Parson couldn’t help but laugh as he stripped off his tunic top and settled his back on the narrow pallet. His eyes fell to the expanse of moss-green fabric above him, and at the very top, a slender opening to the canopies, barely illuminated with some passing ray of moonlight. “You’re right. I’m terrible at hiding anything. I’m an awful liar. You’re too good at it. Neither one works.”

  “Speak for yourself,” she countered. “I’m doing great.” Even then, Parson could hear the falsity in her voice. The held-together, confident version of herself was only a veneer of the real one. Parson had been hiding who he was so for so long, it was easy to see it in her.

  “Says the girl who sneaks out to kill innocents.” Parson meant it to tease her, but soon realized he’d struck a nerve.

  Raene’s smile fell away, and her eyes darkened with the truth of it. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to stop.” She pulled her bare legs to her chest—a sight Parson enjoyed immensely—and her eyes went distant as she said, “It’s always there. Even when I’m talking to someone or working. When I’m riding a horse, I’m trying to think about anything but eating the horse. It’s so loud in my head, I don’t know how to make it quiet.”

  “Does hunting help?” He didn’t even need to ask. He knew it. He could see it. Only after sating her totem on a fresh kill did she open up, speaking freely and candidly as she never allowed herself.

  Raene’s voice was a whisper as she said, “It’s the only thing that does.”

  That, more than anything else, told him he’d been right. She had it, she felt it, too. This insatiable urge wasn’t his alone. They had it together, and for once in his life, someone understood his struggle. For seven years, he’d been alone, and now he finally found someone who understood.

  And it was a Pyro princess of all people.

  “What were you going to do in Pyrona?” Parson propped his head up on his elbow, only able to see her outline with the sharpness of his bear eyes.

  “Get married, I guess.” Even in the dark, he could see how her features returned to the façade.

  “We agreed we were going to talk. You can tell me. I’m sure you had your eye on someone.” Parson tried to make it sound like a joke, but he secretly hated the idea of hearing of her prior interests, all too sure he could never measure up.

  Raene let out a long, low sigh before she answered. “I thought I was going to be traded to a family with political connections. I’d looked at a few, but they were all for Kaide, so he could have access to a resource or a contact.” And then, once she’d started, Raene kept going. “I thought I was going to go to all these parties and events. I took dance classes and fine dining courses and speech training. All kinds of things so I’d make a good wife. And now it’s all a waste.”

  “You’re whole life you’ve been planning to get married?” Parson barely concealed a cringe. “No wonder we’re so disappointing.”

  Raene chuckled. “You’re not, it’s just different. Did you know the day I left, I thought Kaide was going to tell me who I was going to marry? I brought this gorgeous beaded gown to wear when I met my new husband.”

  “What does it look like?”

  Raene released her legs and lay beside him, turning on her side to face him. Her fingers traced over her Pyro night clothes as she described the deep neckline and the beaded bodice that hugged her ribs, the scarlet skirt and matching train.

  “You brought that dress to the Alderwood?” Parson couldn’t hide his laughter. “It’s the least Terra outfit imaginable.”

  “And that’s why it’s still in my bag where it will remain until I die.” Raene smacked him in the shoulder to silence him, but it only made him laugh harder.

  “You should wear it. Every man in the clan would pluck his eyes from his head and give them to the Mother. I’m sure they’d die if they saw you in this.” He motioned toward her revealed legs, her shirt that exposed her collarbones and shoulders. No such garment wou
ld ever be allowed in Terra.

  Raene shook with laughter. “It’s better than that green sack you all wear. For men, it’s better,” she said as she ran a hand over his bare chest. Parson’s breath caught in his throat. “But for women, they really wear that thing all the time? It’s so heavy and awful.”

  “Welcome to Terra. Modesty for the Mother.” Parson couldn’t keep the snide tone from his voice.

  “That’s sacrilege,” she reminded him.

  “Only if you believe in a magical tree.” Parson couldn’t stand it any longer. He extended his arm and tugged at her shoulders, urging her to come closer. She arrived at his side an instant later, her head cradled in the crook of his arm. “I don’t believe in magical trees. I believe in what I can see and touch. Trees? Yes. Magical trees? No.”

  Raene shook with giggles against him. “You make her sound so silly.” In the midnight dark, Raene’s fingers traced lines across his chest, an absent move that nonetheless left him struggling to concentrate on his words.

  When he could take no more, Parson pressed his hand over hers to still her motions, though it didn’t help clear his mind as much as he hoped.

  “It is silly,” he admitted. “I literally spend my entire day cutting up trees. I’m not sure how to reconcile that with some sort of motherly figure in the forest.” He didn’t mention how the death of his own mother contributed to his disinterest in the Alder Mother. If his real mother was gone, he certainly wasn’t going to replace her with a magical one.

  “I thought Terras were supposed to be believers. I mean, everyone’s a believer, but I thought Terras were serious about it.”

  “Oh, they are.” Parson chuckled as he reminisced about the ridiculous habits of his branch. “All the good little Terra boys and girls saying their prayers before breakfast. Covering themselves so no one might see their wrists.”

  Raene wriggled her hand free from his and shook it in front of his face. “Oh no, my wrists aren’t covered!” she said between hearty laughs. “Don’t look, Parson! Don’t look at my wrists!”