Page 44 of Brave Spirit (Bound Spirit #6)

Most of the crowd has settled down and are listening intently, because they know what I am and what it means if I look like I’m talking to no one.

However, some of the turned wolves from the visiting pack have clearly had limited exposure to supernaturals outside of their own pack.

They look at everyone like we’ve all lost our minds, but they are silenced before they can say anything. Great. An audience.

Focusing on the empty spot right in front of me, Daveth curls his hands into fists.

“You absolute idiot. I told you not to do it. I told you that your scheming would catch up to you, and you’d end up dead.

” A torrent of emotions burns within his eyes as his voice grows louder and louder.

“You’re supposed to be the smart brother, but you were so goddamn obsessed with the belief you were meant to be alpha that you refused to see what was right fucking in front of you.

” He waves his hand around, and I have to dodge to the side so I don’t get accidentally smacked.

“Connor did what we couldn’t. He took dad out and earned the power of alpha, but he’s our alpha because the pack chose him.

All of us took the vow, and our pack is healing because of it.

” He grips the short strands of his brown hair with years’ worth of frustration.

“And the stupidest part of all of this is that I groveled to save your life, because I understood something you clearly didn’t.

Bayne, you were never going to be alpha, and every day you continued to breathe was because Connor let you. ”

“Dad wanted me to take his place,” Bayne shouts, stepping too close to his brother for his own good.

I presume Daveth can see and hear him now by the way he stares into Bayne’s eyes with equal parts frustration and pity. “Dad’s dead. He’s gone. You fucking died to impress a memory. I hope it was fucking worth it.”

He turns and weaves his way back through the silent crowd.

As I watch Bayne follow his twin, probably to argue some more, I realize what his actual unfinished business is.

Like so many souls who don’t know how to move on, he hasn’t processed the trauma his father caused.

Even the favorite can be scarred by the manipulations of an abuser.

I’m leaving him to my parents, though, who have more than a century’s worth of practiced patience.

Now that Bayne has left to haunt his brother, Martina looks lost in the center of so much death.

Her features pull into hard lines of sorrow as her gaze goes from Connor, who’s silently rocking her dead body, to her mate, who is clutching his chest with his eyes tightly shut, both seemingly not aware of what is going on around them.

“You said there’s a way they can see me?” Her voice is soft, all of the fire and rage draining out of her as it sinks in that her death has more ramifications than her position as alpha.

After once again putting away my blade, I step into the ring and, despite my exhaustion, I approach with compassion and understanding.

She was a difficult woman who wanted to rescue her son when he no longer needed rescuing.

It’s obvious she loved Connor, but in her desperation to reclaim what she lost, she ended up losing everything.

“Think about what you want to say to them,” I explain to Martina, approaching slowly in hopes that Connor will track my scent and not take a chunk out of me.

“What are the last words you want them to carry throughout their lives? It’s your need for them to see or hear you that will make you visible to them. ”

Martina kneels and runs a golden hand over Connor’s head, her ghostly fingers going through his curls. “ Mijo, I need you to hear me. Please, look up. I’m here.”

At the sound of his mother’s voice, Connor seems to come back to himself, his grasp on her body loosening as he stares up at her. He looks shattered, tears staining his cheeks, and his expression is twisted with sorrow. “Why? You didn’t have to.”

“I’m sorry, mijo ,” she replies with genuine regret painted on her features.

“I’m sorry for everything. I shouldn’t have left.

I should have taken you with me. All these years, you were always that eight-year-old boy who needed five different green crayons to draw the trees, because the forest isn’t just one color.

” She reaches for his hand, her bottom lip quivering when it goes through him.

“I came to save that little boy, but you were already a man. I wanted to protect you, but I didn’t know how, then I kept making it worse. I was losing you all over again.”

“ Mamá , I didn’t need you to protect me,” Connor replies, his low voice breaking. “I needed you to love me as I am now, not the memory of the little boy. I needed your honesty.”

She nods her head. “I know now. I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner.

” On her knees, she moves until she’s kneeling directly in front of him and looks into his eyes.

“Connor, listen to me very carefully. I see you. You’ve grown into an exceptional man who has persevered through so much and still managed to nurture a tender heart.

I couldn’t be more proud. I love you, mijo , and no matter where I end up, I’ll never stop loving you.

” Leaning forward, she mimes kissing his forehead, careful not to go through him this time.

“You can let me go now. Everything is going to be okay.”

When she stands, I take her place, carefully extracting Martina’s dead body from Connor’s lap.

Members of her pack respectfully step forward to take her so they can prepare her for her eventual funeral pyre.

Kneeling in bloodstained sand, I wrap my arms around Connor and hold him as he cries into my shoulder.

It takes Martina a little more time using gentle words before her mate believes what his senses are telling him—that despite the fact he can’t smell her, that doesn’t mean his eyes and ears are deceiving him.

He sobs with a joy that makes my heart break, because this is only a brief reprieve from his loss.

“I’ve got Connor,” I assure her when she looks back with indecision in her gaze. “Go with your mate. We’ll figure everything else out in the morning.”

Her smile is bittersweet as she leads her mate away from the crowd. It’s hard to come up with the words to sustain a lifetime of love within a single night.

Once Connor’s tears start to subside, I help him to his feet and lead him toward the alpha house, my arm firmly wrapped around his waist with his over my shoulders.

Every part of me either aches or burns, but I remain silent as we climb the stupid amount of steps.

Unfortunately, neither one of us is in a position for me to fly him up.

Stumbling to the top, I shout for Sam as soon as we cross the threshold. She nervously comes out, and then her eyes grow wide as she takes in the two of us. “Why are you both covered in blood?”

“Ripped Bayne’s head off his body for killing my mother,” Connor informs her, his tone flat with exhaustion. “Got messy.”

“Fought an army of demons at the homecoming dance,” I answer afterward, leading Connor down the hall toward Callie’s suite.

“We’re going to rinse off. Bring the new arrival to Callie’s bedroom.

We’ll look after him. I’m sorry to dump this on you, but Connor isn’t really in a good position to support the pack tonight. ”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got it.” She gazes up at Connor with a sad knowing that comes from the years they’ve grown up together. “I’m sorry, Con. The pack is here for you.”

The next thirty minutes are the longest of my life, but we manage to rinse all the blood and gore from our skin.

Sam comes through, leaving two pairs of sweats, along with water and painkillers.

In the center of the bed, an ash blond wolf snoozes on his back with his legs twitching in the air, and I decide the explanation of everything that happened tonight can wait for the morning.

While Connor lies down next to Felix and exhales in relief, I type into the group chat that Connor, Felix, and I are alive and the rest will hold.

Nolan responds that he, Callie, and Donovan are the same.

Before I can attempt to climb into bed, Connor is already snoring, while Felix makes little yips in his sleep.

I think I’m going to take a page out of Donovan’s book and have a low-key, private party for my birthday next year.