The Truth About Kadenburg

by T. E. Ridener

  “Don’t worry about Lorcan,” she added quickly. “He’s just been dealing with a lot lately. He worries for Presley.”

  Sipping at his cup of tea, Dimitri’s brows lifted high on his forehead. “How come they aren’t together?”

  Mr. Bamey turned his attention away from the microwave, snickering a bit before he shrugged. “Our laws work a little differently from yours.”

  Dimitri was about to ask how so, but Mrs. Bamey was already a step ahead of him. “The males do not approach the females about mating,” she explained while she pulled a plate from the cupboard and gazed at him. “It is up to the woman to express her interest in the man.”

  Dimitri’s brows rose on his forehead once more, one hovering slightly higher than the other. “A man cannot pursue a woman he is passionate about?”

  “They can be friends,” she shrugged, her eyes moving to her husband. “But it is ultimately up to her to make the first move.”

  Huh. Well, that sorta does make sense now, Dimitri thought. Liam had been so passive in their flirtation and Dimitri became increasingly frustrated when he didn’t kiss him first. Of course! Liam was waiting for him to make the first move.

  “Wait a minute,” Dimitri frowned. “Does that mean Liam viewed me as the girl?”

  Mrs. Bamey stifled a laugh as she gazed at him, giving a soft shake of her head as she slid the plate across the counter to her husband. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it in an offensive way,” she promised. “But given that he is an ursithrope and he desired you as his mate, he waited patiently for you to come to him.”

  Dimitri fell silent then, his mind wandering back to their first days of knowing one another. He could get lost in those memories forever. At least there, Liam was alive and well, and they were together.

  He wasn’t sure how much time had passed by when the front door suddenly burst open and Arnold Goult stood there, holding the limp body of the female ursithrope in his arms.

  ––––––––––

  “What the in the blue blazes happened?” Mr. Bamey demanded as they swarmed around the unconscious girl on the couch. “Speak to me, Arnold. What happened?”

  Arnold Goult was as white as a ghost as he stared down at Presley, shaking his head slowly. He was drenched from head to toe, water dripping from the tip of his nose as he lifted a hand to wipe some blood from the side of his face.

  “Damn it, Arnie. Talk to me!” Mr. Bamey demanded as he grabbed him by his shoulders, shaking him roughly.

  “We were attacked,” Arnold said hoarsely. “It was only a few minutes after you left and-”

  “I knew that was a bad idea!” Mr. Bamey roared angrily as he turned and walked away from his friend. “Damn it, I knew it was bad. We never should’ve left. She was safer with all of us there. You were safe!” He turned back to look at him. “Where did they get you?”

  “Just my side,” Arnold shook his head. “I’m fine. They were trying to take her from me, but I fought them off. Chased the damn beasts across the river to get her back,” he frowned, blinking. “What do they want with her?”

  “Oh, good gracious,” Mrs. Bamey whispered as she placed a damp washcloth against Presley’s forehead. “This poor girl has been through the ringer for the past few days. You shouldn’t have sent us home, Arnie. They could’ve killed her!”

  “She needed time to process everything,” Arnold argued as he leaned against the back of the couch, wincing. “Those bastards got me good.”

  “What an idiotic thing to do,” Mr. Bamey muttered as he shook his head. “Damn it, Arnie. You knew they were out there, just waiting for the opportunity to strike. Why’d you place her-and yourself, for that matter-in harm’s way?”

  “She’s been through too much lately,” Arnold replied as he lifted his eyes to meet Richard’s. “There’s been more going on for that girl than just learning about what we are. I didn’t want her to get overwhelmed. I figured if I just gave her some time to think, she’d accept the truth when she was ready.”

  Mr. Bamey scowled, and without another word, he turned to march out the front door. The screen slammed loudly behind him. Mrs. Bamey gently pressed the wet cloth against Presley’s cheek as she frowned. “The poor dear…”

  “Is she okay?” Dimitri asked quietly as he kept his distance from the couch. His muscular arms were crossed over his chest, his gaze fixated on the girl.

  “She will be,” Mrs. Bamey nodded. “I’m certain she’s only fainted, probably because of stress.”

  “I just wanted to give her some space…” Arnold repeated as sorrow dripped in his voice.

  “I know that,” Mrs. Bamey nodded. “But now you need to understand, Arnold. We do not have the privilege of giving her space. Time is of the essence; in fact, we have very little of it. I can smell many of them out there, and they keep moving closer. They will look for another opportunity like this again

  “Remember what our parents said, Arnie. Remember what our grandparents told us? We have a better chance at surviving if we stick together.”

  Arnold sighed, lowering his head as he blinked back the moisture in his eyes. “I can’t lose her,” he whispered. “She’s so vulnerable right now and I feel down right helpless to make it better.”

  Mrs. Bamey stepped away from Presley, her hand falling against Arnold’s shoulder as she squeezed it gently. “Arnold,” she said softly. “You have been helping her this entire time. You let her come back home. You love her. Even if she never accepts what we are, you are her uncle. She will always remember that you did everything in your power to help her.”

  “I just want to make her hurt go away,” Arnold struggled to say as his voice became thick with emotion.

  Mrs. Bamey embraced the male gently, rubbing her hand up and down his back. “I know you do. Trust me, I do know, more than you can imagine, but right now, we need to focus on keeping her safe, and figuring out to how to drive Breslin and his pack away from Kadenburg. We can’t fix anything for Presley unless they’re gone. Do you understand?”

  “I do,” Arnold managed to say as he blinked away the moisture in his eyes. He winced.

  “Arnold, you need to let me fix you,” Mrs. Bamey frowned. She lifted his shirt up to examine the angry, deep gash on his side. “Mercy, that looks awful.”

  “Doesn’t exactly feel like a picnic,” Arnold replied as his eyes rested on his niece’s face. “I’ll be fine. Just look after her.”

  “Nonsense. She will come around soon enough. Come into the bathroom and let me clean you up,” Mrs. Bamey insisted. “Come along now, no arguing.”

  Dimitri remained silent as he watched the hard-headed woman push Presley’s uncle down the hallway. He was left alone with the girl, and what was he supposed to do? There wasn’t anything he could do, really. They could only wait; for Breslin to show up; for Presley to wake up; for all of this to be over.

  The only thing that bothered Dimitri, was he didn’t know how it would play out in the end. Quite frankly, he worried for the ursithropes. They were outnumbered.

  Sixteen

  The only thing Lorcan knew to do that would make his anger subside was to take a shower. The heat of the water somehow caused the heat in his veins to dissipate; it helped to clear his head, too. His mind was overloaded with thoughts and worries. What were they going to do? How could they take down Breslin and his pack? How could he get Presley to realize he was perfect for her?

  Just stop thinking, he thought as he rested his forehead against the cool tiles of the wall. You’re just going to cause yourself to bear out. It’s not worth it right now.

  It was easier said than done. His mind immediately wandered to Presley; he thought of her so often. A heavy sigh escaped between his parted lips as he curled his fingers into his palm. Those beautiful golden curls, and those piercing emerald eyes. His arms longed to hold her, and his heart ached to love her.

  Truth be told, he did love her. He’d loved her for a very long time. If only he could break free from Urseth’s laws; h
e would make her his. He would show her how good life could be as her mate.

  She won’t even accept what she is, let alone acknowledging how deep and binding the ways of mating can be.

  He pushed damp strands of hair away from his eyes as he reached for the shampoo. A loud knock sounded on the door before it opened and he froze.

  “Get out of here, Lorcan. I need the bathroom,” his mother announced.

  “Mom, what the-”

  The shower curtain was yanked back suddenly and Lorcan’s hand darted down to hide what his mother most certainly did not need to see. His brows shot up on his forehead as he scowled. “Mom!”

  “Out. Now,” she demanded.

  “What is wrong with you?!” Lorcan asked as he stumbled past her and grabbed a towel from the rack. He quickly wrapped it around his waist, fumbling to tie it as Arnold Goult entered the bathroom. Lorcan stared back and forth between them. “Mr. Goult?”

  “Howdy,” Arnold nodded as he clutched his side. “Sorry to interrupt your shower, but your mama insists on cleaning me up. I told I’m fine through, but she-”

  “Where’s Presley?” Lorcan cut him off, seemingly unconcerned with Arnold’s wound as Mrs. Bamey opened the medicine cabinet to retrieve the first aid kit.

  “Presley’s fine,” his mother insisted as she pulled out the bottle of peroxide. “You needn’t worry about her right now.”

  “The hell I don’t,” Lorcan stated under his breath as he pushed out of the bathroom and stalked towards the living room. The shower had temporarily disabled his ability to pick up on scents, but the closer he got, the stronger her hypnotic fragrance became.

  “Presley?” He called out, gripping the towel in one hand as his bare feet touched against the carpet. “Presley?”

  Dimitri shot up from the recliner, his eyes wide. “Easy there, Lorcan. She’s okay.”

  Lorcan ignored the wolf as he knelt down by the couch, reaching his free hand out to touch Presley’s cool cheek. “What the hell happened?”

  “They attacked after we left,” Dimitri responded. “They tried to take Presley, but Arnold got her back. Your dad’s pretty pissed off.”

  Lorcan’s eyes closed as he swallowed hard. His entire body was trembling with rage as he thought about those damn mutts trying to take Presley. It’d be a very cold day in hell for that to happen.

  What the hell had Arnold been thinking? Lorcan knew it was a bad idea to leave them there alone. They should’ve stayed; he should’ve stayed. He could’ve protected her.

  I’m so sorry, Presley, Lorcan frowned as he gazed at her. She seemed to be resting peacefully, but Lorcan was feeling incredibly guilty for the fact she’d gotten hurt. He could smell them on her; he didn’t like it.

  “Presley,” he said. His voice was barely above a whisper as his fingertips traced over her jawline. “Presley, wake up. Please wake up.”

  She mumbled softly, her thin eyebrows drawing together on her forehead as she shifted on the couch. “No…”

  Was she dreaming? Lorcan crawled forward on his knees, cupping her cheek with his large hand as his face moved closer to hers. “Presley, can you hear me?”

  No response.

  “Your mother said she should come around soon,” Dimitri spoke up suddenly.

  “Yeah,” Lorcan frowned. “I’m sure she will.”

  He pushed himself up from the floor, gripping the towel hanging loosely from his hips as he turned to glance at the wolf. “Where’s my dad?”

  “Outside,” Dimitri nodded towards the front door. “They’re probably still lingering nearby.”

  Not for long, Lorcan thought as his jawline tightened. “I’m going to go put some clothes on and I’ll be right back. Keep an eye on her for me?”

  “Yeah, of course,” Dimitri nodded as he moved over to stand near the couch. He lifted his eyes to meet Lorcan’s and for a split second, the male bear almost thought he could trust him; almost.

  Lorcan was in his bedroom within a few seconds, rummaging through the drawers for a pair of old jeans. He wouldn’t need them for long anyway, would he? He was going to take care of the wolves, and then they could all rest peacefully. No one was ever going to touch Presley again. No one was going to hurt anyone he cared about, ever again.

  At least those were the thoughts running through his mind as he buttoned his jeans, but then he heard Presley scream.

  –––––––—

  Once the Bameys and the wolf were gone, Presley immediately went into her bedroom and slammed the door. She didn’t want to talk to Uncle Arnold about any more of this bear stuff. In fact, she wanted to forget it ever happened. Maybe it was selfish of her, but if she didn’t change her mind by morning, she’d be filling up her gas tank and heading out by dawn.

  This is all too much, she thought as she buried her face against the pillow. Why are you putting me through this? What did I do to deserve this?

  A light knock sounded at her door, but Presley ignored it. Her uncle just needed to leave her alone. Learning the truth about her father’s death and the fact her aunt had been involved with it was the icing on the cake. Presley felt like she was about to snap and it wouldn’t end well for anyone.

  “Presley?”

  Just ignore him, she told herself as she sniffled softly. Was she crying again? Perfect.

  She heard the hinges of her door creaking and she knew her uncle was coming in whether she liked it or not. She felt his weight press against the mattress, and then gentle fingers were moving through her hair. It reminded her of her childhood; when she’d had a bad dream or was sad for no particular reason. Well, no, she was sad for a particular reason. What little girl wouldn’t cry on occasion because her mother didn’t want her?

  “I know this is a lot to take in, Honey,” her uncle said softly. He was using that voice he’d often displayed when she was a youngster. The voice that he reserved for fatherly moments; and in truth, he was the only father she’d ever known.

  “I’m not even going to say I know what you’re going through because I don’t,” he stated quietly as he leaned back on the bed a bit. “I learned about our…history, a very long time ago. My parents taught me and your mama the dos and don’ts before we started school. I am so sorry I never gave you the same courtesy, Presley.”

  Presley sniffled again, swallowing down her tears as she hugged the pillow against her face. Oh, so now she got an apology out of him? Maybe some, if not all of this, could’ve been avoided had he just told her from the get-go.

  “I am so sorry about what happened with Tim. Honey, if I could take that pain away from you, I would in a heartbeat,” he swallowed thickly. “I never should’ve lied to you about anything, especially your father. I wish I could take all of this away. I wish I could make you happy.”

  Presley scoffed quietly, mentally rolling her eyes as she breathed in the scent shampoo on her pillow case. She just needed to clear her head. Tomorrow it would make sense, wouldn’t it? Maybe not, but perhaps she would be more willing to accept it after getting a good night’s rest. She was exhausted…

  “I love you, Presley,” her uncle murmured as he leaned down to kiss the back of her head. “Don’t ever doubt that, okay? I know I’m just your old uncle, but I’ve always loved you like you were my own.”

  Great. Now I feel guilty, Presley frowned, rolling over to face him.

  He was gone.

  “I love you, too, Uncle Arnold,” she whispered, pulling the blankets up over her trembling frame as she willed herself to relax enough for sleep to take over.

  She closed her eyes, trying to regulate her breathing. Why was her pulse racing so fast?

  “Calm down,” she told herself aloud. “You’re safe. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  But her heart was hammering against her ribcage as panic knotted in her stomach. She felt her fingertips freezing over as sweat appeared on her forehead. Something wasn’t right.

  Thud.

  Presley shot up from her bed in an instant, clut
ching the sheets as she frowned. “Uncle Arnold?” She called out.

  Silence.

  Shit, she thought as she quickly scrambled out of her bed. She reached for the ball bat she kept by her night stand, gripping the handle tightly as she made her way towards her closed bedroom door.

  “Uncle Arnold?” She called out again, only to receive no response. She swallowed down her nerves, listening to her heart thundering in her ears as she grabbed the doorknob, pulling it open as quietly as possible.

  The hinges squeaked again and she winced. Shit shit shit.

  The hallway was pitch-black, and Presley wasn’t sure if trying to turn on the light was a good idea or not. The terrible feeling she had in her gut told her to leave it off. If someone was in here, she didn’t want to give them a visual advantage.

  Be calm, she whispered in her mind. Yes, because whoever was in the house could totally hear the volume of her thoughts; stupid.

  She placed one foot in front of the other very slowly, reminding herself that she had a ball bat and the intruder did not. However, there was a ninety percent chance said intruder was a werewolf; in which case, she was screwed.

  You’re stronger than them, she attempted to motivate herself. Oh god, who am I kidding? I don’t even know how to bear out!

  “Uncle Arnold?” She whispered, carefully poking her head through the doorframe, peering into the living room. Perhaps she’d only been mistaken. Maybe she only thought she heard a noise. Maybe exhaustion and the bear craziness was finally catching up to her and she was going to –

  “Ahh!”

  Presley yelped in surprise as a dark shadow passed by her, followed quickly by a loud crash as pictures fell from the wall and shattered against the floor. Her eyes darted around in the darkness. What was that? Who was that?

  “Uncle Arnold?” She said a little louder, panic rising in her throat.

  “Run!” Her uncle shouted. “Presley, run!”

  “Uncle Arnold, are you-”

  She froze then, and her voice became lodged in her tightening throat as she heard a series of low growls sounding in the darkness.