Page 29 of A Rift in the House of Bruin

“Mic, are you alright?” I asked, voice tight. My hands trembled as I held her shoulders, searching her face for any sign of injury.

“I’m fine,” she said breathlessly. Her wide eyes met mine, and for a moment, the world stilled.

Guttural sounds rumbled behind us. I scrambled to get Mic back to her feet. I knew what was coming. The bond we all shared with her was harder to ignore when our beasts took over. Sawyer had crossed a line. Nico would never let it stand.

The vibrations grew until a roar exploded from Nico like rolling thunder. He charged Sawyer with renewed fury. The bears reared up, colliding mid-air. Nico’s jaws locked around Sawyer’s neck, shaking his head and slamming him to the forest floor like a rag doll.

The ground shuddered, the land itself crying out beneath the weight of the vicious blow.

The white bear lay vanquished on the ground, making no attempt to fight. Nico pinned him down, standing victorious over his opponent. He let out another thunderous roar, reverberating over the crowd—settling the score once and for all.

“Is he… dead?” she whispered, shooting a wary glance at the silent crowd, who stood in shocked awe.

“No, he’s just showing reverence. He’ll be fine,” I said, keeping her tucked against my side in case these vagabonds lacked a sense of honor.

Nico stepped back, blood dripping from his muzzle. His copper bear ambled out of the clearing, the remaining males parting to let him pass. He returned a heartbeat later, a tangled mess of leaves, crimson flowers, and their dirt-caked roots clutched in his jaws. His eyes found Michaela, and my chest tightened. He moved toward her, each step deliberate. My bodytensed, but I stayed locked in place—torn between the instinct to protect her and the knowledge that this moment wasn’t mine to interfere with.

Nico lowered his massive head and placed the tangle of flowers at her feet. Crimson dahlias caught the light, their vibrant hue mirroring the blood-stained ground.

My heart sank.

I knew the significance of the gesture. It wasn’t simply an offering. It was a claim.

Before I could process it, Nico shifted back. Bruised and battered, he knelt before Michaela, his devotion written in every line of his body.

I looked away, fists clenched at my sides. This wasn’t a battle I could win.

“Nico, are you alright?” Michaela’s voice was soft and full of concern. She knelt beside him, her hands fluttering over his injuries. I forced myself to stay back, watching as she tore a strip of fabric from her dress to tend his wounds.

“I’m fine,” he said, voice rough but steady. His dark eyes flicked to me briefly before returning to Michaela. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

Sawyer’s voice interrupted. “Son of Artos,” he called, his tone surprisingly light despite his injuries. “I almost had you.”

Nico chuckled, rising to his feet, shaking Sawyer’s hand. “You’re stronger than I expected.”

Sawyer smirked, wiping blood from his face. “The spirits were worried I was about to join them. If I’d known your fated was here, I might’ve been more cautious.”

My stomach dropped. Fated.

The word hung heavy in the air, and Michaela stiffened. She opened her mouth to speak, but Nico cut her off.

“It was a fair fight, Sawyer. You’re the one who kept the fact that you’re a spirit shifter a secret. I didn’t know any stillexisted.” A smooth transition—one he clearly didn’t want to explain in front of her now. How could he? None of us really knew how we fit into the tangled mess of bonds that tied us to this beautiful human girl.

“We’re more common in trying times. Maybe it’s the Divine’s way of evening the odds,” Sawyer said, saying nothing further on the subject.

“Let me get cleaned up, and we’ll make plans for you to fulfill your part of the bargain.”

Sawyer’s grin widened as he swept into a dramatic bow. “Let me start by introducing you to the leader of the Raven’s Hand.” His voice rang out like a performer on stage. “Sawyer Briarhart, humble captain of the most notorious band of outlaws this side of the Caldreim River. At your service, My Lord.”

A flicker of intrigue crossed Nico’s face before he schooled his expression into a mask of mild indifference, tilting his head as if he’d expected nothing less. A practiced smile curved his mouth.

“Well then, lead on, Captain Briarhart. We leave in the morning. Lucius,” he called, turning to me. “You’ll stay behind and keep an eye on Mic while we’re gone.”

“I’m coming with you,” she announced, like it was already decided.

Nico stared at her, a faint smile tugging at his lips. I wondered if he would go back on his word and use his powers to sway her mind. Anger began to stir in my chest. I wouldn’t let him crush her free will with a flex of power.

“Alright, Mic. If you’re up for it, you can come,” he finally agreed and she let out a breath, a look of triumph lighting her face.

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