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

by RS McCoy

  “Have you made your choice, my daughter?” Raene heard Da’s words, but she still couldn’t answer. She looked back and forth between the two Frane sons who had both gotten to know her in different ways.

  Finally, she looked to Parson. “Do you mean it? You withdraw your name?”

  For the first time since returning to camp, Parson met her eyes with his. They were burning bright green with that ferocity she’d come to know from him, but they were filled with more pain and anguish and regret than she’d ever seen. “Yes. I withdraw my name. I told you the first time. I can’t marry you.”

  “Why?” Raene tried to keep steady, to hold her head high.

  “I don’t have to explain myself.”

  “Yes, you do. You owe me that much, at least.” Raene lifted her broken, useless arm, knowing it wasn’t fair. But she needed an explanation. She needed to hear the words from him.

  Parson inhaled a sharp breath as if she’d struck him. “Hale wants you. He can have you.”

  Raene could have crumpled to the ground in a pile and never gotten up again. She couldn’t make sense of it. In the depths of the Alderwood, Parson had teased her and made her cry and taken her hunting, but never for a moment did she question his intent. Up until the arrival of the coyotes, Parson had acted like he wanted her for himself. Either he was a skilled liar or something had changed.

  But Parson was anything but articulate. He couldn’t fake it even if he wanted to. And that left only one explanation.

  “Are we settled then?” Hale asked, growing impatient.

  Da shook his head. “She has to say it. I won’t abide any breach of contract. The decision is hers.” He glanced up at her. “Raene?”

  She could have smacked Da for his relentless insistence if she’d had the strength. Still, she nodded. No matter how her head spun or her arm hung heavy at her side, no matter how her heart beat loudly in her ears and her palms slicked with nervous sweat, Raene had made her decision. There was a certain peace and satisfaction in that.

  No matter what else transpired today, Raene had at least accomplished that small feat.

  Her eyes drifted to Hale, where he stood with a sweet smile, like this wasn’t difficult, like no one else was there, like she wasn’t some shattered girl barely stitched together with bandages and tea.

  It took every ounce of her wavering strength. Raene squared her shoulders and held her head as high as possible. She wouldn’t back down. She wouldn’t change her mind. She wouldn’t let her injuries keep her from voicing her decision. With her eyes on Hale, she forced out the words. “I choose Parson.”

  Parson’s eyes slammed shut against the words. Three little, impossible words. He must have misheard her—misunderstood her—but when Da asked her to say it again, she did.

  “I choose Parson.”

  The second time, there was only anger. The sort of sheer, explosive anger that blurred his vision and boiled the blood in his veins. “Are you insane?” Parson shouted.

  The words were unfair, but he couldn’t hold them back. Parson couldn’t marry her. He didn’t deserve her.

  Her cheek was a purplish-black mar that looked all wrong on her stunning features. Her broken arm hung limp at her side, but otherwise, her tunic hid her injuries. Only the dullness in her eyes spoke to her pain and frailty. She was strong—always the huntress—but Parson read her struggle easily. She was alive and standing as he hadn’t dared hope, but a part of him would always hate what happened to her, hate his role in it.

  “It’s my choice.” Raene pulled her eyes from Hale to glare at Parson.

  Parson felt like a flame, and with nothing more than a single look, she’d extinguished him, simply wiping him from existence. She emptied him in an instant.

  Hale shot Da a frantic look. “Let’s save this for another day. She’s had a serious head injury. She needs—”

  They all stood dumbfounded when Raene squeezed her eyes tight and screamed, “It’s my choice!” The sound of her shrill voice froze the air in the tent.

  And then, all at once, she opened her eyes and looked to Hale again. Her voice was more even as she said, “I’m sorry, Hale. I know this isn’t what you wanted. I know there’s nothing I can say. It’s not my head or the tea or anything else. This is my decision. And I choose Parson.” She stepped forward and handed him the three rings—one of them his.

  Hale was entirely and understandably crushed. His shoulders sank further with each passing second. His hands clenched at his sides as he tried to comprehend what she was saying, what it meant for him.

  Parson couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t watch his brother’s heart get broken. He had to stop it. “I said no, Raene. This isn’t going to happen. We’re all in agreement. Hale—”

  Raene’s bright blue eyes blazed with renewed anger. “Hale will make a fine husband. But he won’t be mine. I’m not going to ask him to be second choice. If you won’t marry me, then send me back to Pyrona. Nullify the agreement. I did my part.” Raene attempted to cross her arms indignantly, but too late she realized one of them didn’t work. She ended up awkwardly cradling her broken arm in the other, but it had none of the effect she surely intended.

  “Why don’t we give them a minute?” Da approached Hale and steered him toward the tent flap. And to Parson’s shock, Hale put up not the smallest fight. He, too, was empty.

  And then it was just the two of them. The air hung heavy with tension, palpable and dense so that it nearly smothered them. Parson buried his face in his hands, letting himself breathe, letting his anger calm into something manageable. When he had control of himself, he looked at her and asked, “What are you thinking?” Parson couldn’t even fathom how seriously her head was damaged that she thought this was a good idea. “He’s a good man. He’ll take care of you and keep you safe. You have no reason to dismiss him that way.”

  Then, Parson saw the way she shattered beneath the weight of his words. She already looked awful—bandaged and bruised and struggling to stand—and now he’d made her feel even worse. He rejected her yet again, only this time there would be no going back.

  He was at a loss. He didn’t know what to do, how to salvage the situation.

  “Raene—”

  “No.” She shook her head as the first of many angry tears rolled down her cheeks. With her good hand, she attempted to wipe them away, but the effort was futile. More and more tears streamed down her face, dripping off her chin and staining the moss-green tunic she wore. Parson could only watch her with profound guilt, each fallen tear an arrow through his heart.

  “I know you didn’t come see me because you feel responsible.” She spoke to the floor, hiding her face. “I know you think you’ll let me get hurt again.”

  Parson stood still, impaled by her words. He did feel responsible. That guilt had kept him away. And he was terrified of failing her again. But he couldn’t tell her that. She had to change her mind. Hale deserved that much.

  “I didn’t come see you because Hale is a good man and—”

  “Stop saying that!” Her gaze was as pointed as a spear. Her mouth was tight with fury. Every ounce of her shook with it. “You say that like I don’t know him. I know he’s a good man. But you are, too. I was given the responsibility of choosing, and you’re my choice. So you can either accept it or not. That part is up to you.” And then, exhausted from yelling, Raene wavered.

  Parson was barely there in time to catch her by the arm, lowering her to sit on the floor. She was a mess of tears and bruises and screams, but still she managed to captivate him. In the face of Hale’s heartbreak and Parson’s rejection, she continued to fight, to voice her decision despite the consequences. Had the roles been reversed, Parson didn’t know if he could have done it.

  He had to give her credit for that much at least.

  Sinking beside her, Parson put a hand on her head and stroked her hair, willing her to calm before she injured herself more. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have encouraged you to go hunting. I shouldn’t hav
e taken you so far from camp. I shouldn’t have tried to interfere with you and Hale. But you know this can’t work. All we do is fight and hurt each other, and last time you nearly died. I’m no good for you.”

  Raene listened, and when she had better control of her voice, she said, “You’re not going to change my mind. If I wanted Hale, I would have said his name. If you don’t want me, send me back.”

  Parson sat in stunned silence. In her state, barely able to stand, she was giving him an ultimatum. To have her as his wife or not at all. He’d never see her again.

  Like his mother and Blossom before, Parson was going to lose her.

  He could choose the certain loss of Raene, or the probable loss of Hale.

  It would never be the same after this. They would never recover. Maybe in months or years they could find a new sort of trust, but either way, Hale would always hate him for this.

  It was a risk he was going to have to take.

  With his hand in her hair, it was easy to pull her against his shoulder and kiss the crown of her head. “You’re entirely too difficult, you know that?”

  And then, in an instant, she spun. Her arms were around his neck and her chest was pressed to his as he clutched her as tight as he dared. Her elbow dug into the wound on his shoulder, but he didn’t dare push her away now. He’d only just now gotten her.

  She was his—entirely, completely his. No more arguing over who she would pick or wondering if he was interfering. Her mind was made and the rest of them could only deal with it.

  Parson’s heart thumped out its excitement loud and fast. He tried not to squeeze her too hard—there was almost no where he could touch her without finding an injury—but Parson couldn’t help but hold her against him. The last time he held her this way, she was nearly dead as he tucked her into his totem form. Now, she was alive, real, his.

  He could have exploded with the joy of it.

  “Are you sure? Entirely sure?” he couldn’t help but ask. It was too surreal, too impossible.

  She didn’t answer, but instead, she continued squeezing his neck, and Parson let her, completely willing to let her melt against him. They could sort the rest out later.

  “I guess that means we’ll be having a celebration tonight?” Parson had no idea when Da had appeared inside the tent, but he stood there with an eager grin.

  Raene pulled away from Parson and laughed, wiping at her tear-stained cheeks yet again. Parson had to help her to her feet, but once up, they both agreed.

  “Then, Ms. Randal, I think it’s time we make you a Frane.”

  Raene cringed and laughed all at once. She felt awful, and probably would for several days, but there was the relief of having made her choice—the right choice—coupled with the excitement of getting married.

  Sure, her wedding would be nothing like she’d pictured. There would be no lavish party, no wealthy guests, no elite political connections to impress. She wouldn’t wear a scarlet dress with beads and embroidery. Her arms wouldn’t don rubies or diamonds or onyx. She wouldn’t sip the finest strawberry wine from long-stemmed glasses.

  Battered and bruised and clad in Terra clothes, she had envisioned a thousand likelier possibilities, but this was the one she would have. She couldn’t have been happier.

  Only the mention of her new name gave her pause. She would be a Frane.

  Mrs. Parson Frane.

  Raene Frane.

  And she’d thought Corson Porsten was bad.

  “I’ll make the arrangements. For now, let’s make it official.” Da produced a folded slip of paper, sealed with Kaide’s mark. Without ceremony, Da popped it open and spread it across his table. The writing was Da’s more slanted script, but the words were Kaide’s. There was an undeniable formality to them, a recognizable cadence he used when he was putting on his best airs.

  And it was so incredibly long. Raene had never seen a marriage contract before—her own or otherwise—but there were so many conditions, she didn’t have time to read them all. Kaide had put great thought and care into this document.

  It made Raene’s heart bubble with happiness.

  Da handed Parson a quill to sign his name at the top, and Raene did the same. Then, Raene watched in awe as Da produced a knife and cut Parson’s thumb. Beside his scrawled name, Parson left his bloodied thumbprint.

  A second later, Da held out his hand for Raene’s. When she hesitated, he said, “It seals the contract with the most secure of bonds. So there is no question.”

  Raene extended her broken arm and watched with sick amusement as Da punctured her thumb. She didn’t feel a thing, a bad sign, she knew. Still, Raene worked her thumb up toward her name and left her mark beside it.

  It was done.

  “And now, for the good part.” Da smiled as he folded the document and took his place at the center of the tent. “Raene, my child, you’ll be here on the right. And son, on my left.” Da pointed to their positions.

  Parson grabbed her good hand with his as they stood before Da. Her hands shook as the reality settled in. She was getting married. To Parson. Who drove her mad. And she was so ecstatic, it didn’t seem possible. If not for Parson’s hands holding hers, she might have thought she had simply imagined it all.

  And when she looked up at those burning emerald eyes, when she saw the consuming smile he couldn’t hide, Raene knew she’d made the right choice. She ached all over, and her head swam, but in all the mess, this one thing was really, truly right.

  From his pocket, Da produced a small alder wood box, inlayed with lighter oak and darker walnut, depicting the sacred tree and her many branches. When he opened it, he held it out so she could see the dozen rings inside.

  “For our new daughter,” Da explained, his voice dripping with pride.

  Raene covered her mouth as she took in the sight of so many rings. Surely they weren’t all for her?

  But as she soon learned, they were. Parson held the box with a sweet smile, his eyes glistening, as Da slid each ring onto her fingers. “The first is for the Mother, may she guide and protect you.” Raene received a ring that was identical to the one Hale had given her. The sight of it shot her clean through with guilt, but she forced herself to nod and wait for the next.

  “The second is for the spirits, so that we remember their sacrifice.” He showed her the thirteen tree carvings before he slid the alder wood ring onto the middle finger of her useless hand.

  “The third is for the Alderwood, the Mother’s gift to her devoted children.” Raene bit back a groan and nodded. On and on it went, a ring for the Bear Clan, a ring for being a daughter of the clan leader, a ring for her future children. Raene watched her fingers fill with wood and iron and silver, but only the last ring gave her pause.

  “And this one, my daughter, is the first of its kind. Traditionally, daughters receive a ring in honor of their home. For you, I commissioned this one of lava stone, and here,” he pointed to a tiny carving, “the black griffin of your clan.” Da had barely slid it onto her finger before she threw her arms around his neck.

  “Thank you, Da. Truly. It’s perfect.” Da stiffened at her unexpected embrace, but he melted a second later. In all her life, Raene had never felt more like a daughter.

  Raene returned to her position after the breach in protocol and admired her hands, as full of rings as they were. Individually, they were light, but all together, the rings felt heavy. Their different surfaces caught the light in a dozen different ways, each beautiful in its own right. Had she not known better, she’d have thought they were the hands of a Terra.

  “And now, for Parson’s ring.” Da held out his hand to Parson in wait. “Terra men choose one woman to receive their ring, and that woman wears it as a sign of their alliance.”

  Parson shook his head, a deep regret in his eyes.

  “Very well.” Da smiled but the hang in his shoulders told her that wasn’t the way it was supposed to go. Still, Da made no mention of it again. Instead, he pulled a long moss-green ribbon from his p
ocket. It looked to have once been a shimmering satin, but age and wear had dulled it considerably. He held it as if it was the most precious thing in the world.

  “This ribbon was first used to bind the hands of my wife and I under the Mother’s grace. It was used for Lathan and Tasia, and now, for you.”

  Da pulled the ribbon around their clasped hands and began to weave it around their forearms. Raene was grateful it was her good, unbroken arm, free of bandages.

  Then Da stood back, arms crossed as he admired his handiwork.

  “That’s it?” Raene whispered to Parson.

  But he only laughed. “Not exactly. There’s still the walk.” A second later, Da held open the tent flap as Parson and Raene emerged into the clearing. She blinked at the sudden brightness, but once she could open her eyes fully, she gaped in awe.

  Where before the clearing had been all but empty, now it was full. Lining either side of their path were the clan members, each and every one of them, and in their hands, a ribbon—some green, some brown, some old, and some never used.

  “We’re just supposed to nod. Don’t saying anything. It’s bad luck,” Parson whispered.

  Standing nearest Da’s tent, Lathan stepped forward with a ribbon and tied it around their already-bound hands. He looked a little misty-eyed as he said, “May the Mother guide you.”

  Tasia arrived at his side and placed a loving hand on his arm. A moment later, she held out her own ribbon and tied it around their hands. “May the Mother keep you.”

  Gemini was next with her beaming smile and a scarlet ribbon. “For the Pyro princess,” she whispered. “May the Mother watch you.”

  Beside her, Asla held a muddy-brown ribbon. Tying it around the growing knot, he said, “May the Mother defend you.”

  On and on they went, receiving ribbons from Endel, Tanner, Loren, and all the other young men she’d met at the trade. After that, Yaiza, Cresta, and every other face Raene had come to know—and a few she still hadn’t. Each blessing secured their hands in yet another knot until Raene knew it would be quite the task to get them all off.