Page 97 of WitchCurse

Being fae was a curse, even if it was only half. I’d given myself up once I caught a glimpse of him. The only way to catch a Stag, was for the Stag to let himself be caught. Fate waited for no one, but I waited for fate.

* * *

Toby

The idea of a tribunal sounded great. Diplomatic even? I wanted nothing to do with it. Dozens of alpha werewolves arrived. Oberon, who had taken over the Volkov’s leadership and was trying to get the other wolves to take more regional control, arrived with almost two dozen other alphas. Pack leaders who would cast judgment on Isaac.

I flinched. The name still hurt. The memory would fade as I knew Kiran’s had, but they would always burn if I touched them. With my wolf at my side, we could face it, handle the heat and pain, but as all mortal things, we did our best to minimize it. Which usually meant avoiding pricking that memory. I’d rather bask in the memories of Nick, Kiran and I together, than anything from my past.

Kiran still existed in his brooding silence. A life lived in fear, caged, and abused had created a wariness in him that would likely never vanish. He was not a big believer in words, and I understood that. His actions proved plenty every day.

Speaking among the fae would often end up backfiring, binding folks’ will or casting magical obligations. But he never shoved us out of his head. His barriers could keep us on the edge, and if he was having a day filled with doubt or painful memories, we would dance on the edge, both trying to find ways to comfort him without forcing those memories to be voiced. That was exactly the type of day that was planned for me after we got through this trial. Unfortunately, it meant I had to put memories to words first, and release them for all to hear. Kiran had held me a long time this morning, his arms solid and warmth comforting. No words. We hadn’t needed them. Our brooding trio conveyed much without uttering a sound.

I had been called before the tribunal to testify. I was not an alpha of my own pack, despite having the strength of one and being bound to a demi-god. They wanted to hear my tale, but I would not be given choice of judgment.

That irritated me a lot.

In the days leading up to today, Sebastian delivered chocolate cake and bacon, trying to soothe me. Nick kept me close, never hesitating to touch, and bring me back from the edge of memories. Kiran gardened. It was strange to find the last the most comforting.

He was grumpy if we interrupted him, but he had taken to fixing some of the damage by the storm created when his power had been unleashed. Planting trees, and clearing debris, all in the more human sort of way, rather than that of earthen power he was.

He was really hot sweating in the sunlight with his shirt off. I could watch him for hours and let myself be hypnotized with the fact that he was mine. Occasionally he’d look up, grant me a small smile, and I’d feel everything settle into place because we belonged together.

Sometimes the trees came alive when he was near, moving and making singing sounds like I’d never experienced. I acted as his guard, as if he needed one, while he traversed the world with magic that I could only dream of understanding someday.

The shadows flocked to him as though summoned, vanishing into the growing court of his lands, depositing power and shifting into things as though he were gardening magic to create living beings as well. I siphoned off some of the dark, letting only the barest ripple of it begin to refill the well of Kiran’s black abyss. That destructive force that could lead to natural disaster easily spun for me. And I learned to use it, reading books, conferring with Robin from time to time, and creating an extra layer of guards that patrolled the edge of our realm. Their glowing red eyes and ice-layered armor could frighten any intruder away. But myHunt, the dark beasts who came at my call, bordered on the dawning span between winter and spring. Cool mornings gave them misting breath and snow showers, warm evenings had them looking more like hellhounds or demonic dogs. They only hunted on my command, and their main goal, my objective for them, was to guard my men no matter what they did. Today I’d left them in the woods to haunt the shadows and wait for our return, much as they did each time we traveled.

A time or two, Kiran and I would open a door and travel to distant lands, fix some sort of problem that had taken root, or devour a thousand shadow creatures, then we’d find some books, and return to Nick who waited for us with endless patience. Sometimes we would unleash a bit of the internal darkness, causing chaos in small doses, and emptying the ever-filling pool to give Kiran balance. I could only burn off a little with the hunt, the rest had to be used in a normal sort of way. Spring always brought some edge of disaster as well as flowers. Sometimes floods, thick and heavy rain, or even brutal whipping wind. We practiced easing the release of the darkness. Keeping Kiran anchored in us, and focused on the growth of rebuilding, helped clear his mind about the occasional damage that destruction sought.

Nick took over some of the building within our realm, mapping out things and planning Kiran’s dreams to make them reality. He was good at painting the world around us with life and color, bringing drawings to life from a million books, and it was less strain on Kiran to let Nick take control of focusing the world’s growth.

Sebastian also spent a lot of days visiting, learning, and trying to create. His small realm could become a wild thing. Not dangerous, but a bit haphazard. He was young and still had a lot of growing and learning to do. The years Nick and Kiran had been locked away in their Underhill sanctuary had really given them experience in developing a realm, and Nick was determined to stretch his knowledge to the limit.

The day of the tribunal, Kiran had carved a path from our realm to the new realm of the foxes. We could have opened a door and saved ourselves the distance. But instead, we wandered it, the three of us hand in hand, Kiran focusing more on his realm than any worry about the meeting. I checked for eyes in the woods, finding hundreds peering back, but all nothing more than whispers of my ever-growing pack. They would stay away unless called.

“You’re not on trial,” Nick reminded me.

It didn’t feel that way. And opening wounds that had barely begun to heal really sucked.

“We do not have to attend,” Kiran said, tugging us to a stop.

I was a werewolf, and not showing up would be a mark against me. Not belonging to Liam’s pack anymore made me a lone wolf, and even with the consent of Liam to be a lone wolf on the edge of his territory, it meant others might attack. Belonging to no one would always be a problem. I dragged them forward, forcing us to cross over into the human domain.

“You are mine,” Kiran said, frown in place. He didn’t seem to like something he saw on my face. “I do not wish for you to reawaken this pain.”

“They want to hear my account,” I said. Which made my stomach flip over at the thought. The retelling would be broken, fragmented, and scattered between my wolf and me. Some parts the wolf still refused to let me more than catch a glimpse of. It was how I knew my human side bled through to my wolf. It would not have kept those things from me if it didn’t understand how they might hurt.

“Why does it have to be public?” Nick asked as we headed toward the barn Liam had repurposed into a meeting place.

“It’s only the tribunal,” I said. “Not open to everyone.”

He sighed, but we were stopped at the door, the wolves on guard not wanting Nick and Kiran inside. Kiran folded his arms across his chest. “Then the tribunal will delegate without his statement. My scion will not attend without us.”

He wrapped a possessive arm around my waist, and I felt his magic rise. He could open a door and take us back to his realm, closing off his space to everyone, even Sebastian and Ari. The tribunal would have no luck getting to me if Kiran didn’t want them to. Being bound to a demi-god had perks, the two hot men at my side were only part of it.

Liam said Kiran was the king of the Spring Court? A new creation of an old-world concept. I wondered what that made Sebastian and Liam, but didn’t ask. The fact that it made me some sort of king’s consort was a fun tease that I used often to coax my men to bed. It also meant that I wasn’t exactly just some werewolf anymore. Following wolf law was something I did by choice, not because I had to. If they planned to strip my men away from me, maybe we’d go home and snuggle, instead of stirring up old memories. I’d much rather do that anyway.

“It’s all right,” Liam said, coming up behind us with Sebastian at his side. “They are his bondmates. They will attend with him.”