Page 15 of Honorable Convictions
There were certainly scars already etched into him. Pierson had no notion what to make of his relationship with Mitchell. They had no common ground, no basis for even the simplest of acquaintanceships, but somehow Fate had picked them to share eternity. Whenever they were in a room together, Pierson’s mouth ran away with him, and he’d been unintentionally harsh in their last conversation. That didn’t matter, he’d convinced himself. They’d met too early, and each of them had to establish their identity in the city picked for them. It hurt that so much emotion was wedged into their relationship, and he feared whatever chance to remedy it was lost.
His goal was to not think of Mitchell, and he was able to push it aside during the day, but in his dreams, he was there in all his handsome glory. Mitchell had already left Seattle and moved up to Chicago, which reinforced Pierson’s idea that he’d slacked off to hang out with his friends. How else was he rising through the ranks so quickly if the aptitude to being a Juris Knight didn’t come comfortably to him?
It certainly was Pierson’s destiny. There was no higher office for him to ascend to, but that didn’t stop Pierson from pushing himself harder at every opportunity. Just like in class, his perfect recall and understanding of law had earned him a spotless reputation. In fact, Pierson had heard on more than one occasion that the common belief was that he had ice in his veins. It might’ve been a compliment if Pierson wasn’t hopelessly disconnected from the world.
There were still no friends in his life—not a single buddy to call up or share a beer with after work. The only time he was invited to events was if the host was including everyone and didn’t want Pierson to be the person excluded since the Reverent Knight and Venerable Knights continued to preach teamwork and coordination between offices. Pierson tried in vain to pull himself out of his frozen shell to make small talk, but those efforts always failed somehow.
Pierson freely admitted that he was lonely. With Mitchell always in the recesses of his brain, he was unable to prevent himself from imagining them together. It was what Fate had intended, though Pierson hadn’t seen him since training, and he worried about whether he missed some important nuance to his face or the cadence of his voice. There were opportunities—every year, the Reverent Knight gathered fallen knights at a retreat, but Pierson always skipped it. The purpose was to catch up with old friends, learn about new procedures, or simply have fun.
Every regulation was burned into his gray matter, and he had no friends. There was no fun outside of his job. Going through files, striding into court and getting his way, and sentencing the guilty fueled him. Everything about the law was fascinating, and Pierson kept abreast of what went on in the Main Assembly Hall, where the Council leaders gathered every weekday, to memorize any changes to the regulations that were his life.
Pierson lived and breathed his job, so the highest number of cases were assigned to him daily. There was nothing else, so he gave it everything. A fallen knight as young as he shouldn’t have such a prestigious reputation or be trusted with the most influential files that came through their office, but Pierson was uniquely suited to Juris Knighthood. It was something he was supremely proud of, and he wondered if Mitchell ever took note of it. With a sigh, Pierson was left to wonder when the time would be right for them. They had to have a future ahead of them, or so he told himself, because quite frankly, the alternative was to stay locked in ice.
Doubt crept in, and he had to question whether Mitchell wanted to be with him. They’d said awful things to each other, and Pierson was able to recall each ugly sentence and accusation. The truth was, they didn’t know each other, and living apart wasn’t giving them the opportunity to change that. Although he was sorry for the words he’d let fly, he was hurt too. Their paths were inevitably going to cross again, but would either of them be ready for it?
∞∞∞
1930 AD
New York, New York
Mitchell’s palms were sweaty, so he quickly set down the file on the long table in front of him. “Can I get you anything? Perhaps a glass of water?” he asked the man at his side.
“No, I want to get this over with.” Alpha Barstow Panthera’s voice was terse, and Mitchell couldn’t blame him. While Mitchell had dedicated himself to being the best Juris Knight out there, he’d learned early on that he absolutely hated doing separation agreements. Each one that was assigned to him swamped him with memories, and he’d have horrible nightmares of being permanently split from Pierson. While they might’ve spent the last twenty-five years apart, they’d be together someday.
As much as he hated this duty of tearing apart a matebond in the eyes of the law, this one was going to make his decade—he’d been pitted against the man widely regarded as the upper echelon of Juris Knights. While Mitchell had to fight to get to headquarters, Pierson had built a sterling and unparalleled reputation. It was his cases that Mitchell used to guide his decisions, and he was hardly alone. Around every office he’d ventured in, JK Murphy was discussed with reverence.
The door to the courtroom swung open, and the only person on the planet able to stir him up with a single look walked in. Mitchell didn’t give a fig about his lofty status. On the contrary, Mitchell focused on the handsome planes of his face that he’d missed and those exceptional green eyes. As he marched toward him, Mitchell unconsciously got to his feet.
“Hey, Blondie. Long time no see,” Mitchell said to his mate with a wide smile. To his surprise, an uncomfortable feeling rose from nowhere and sent prickles along his spine.
Their gazes locked as Pierson came to a stop and studied him with the ice he was notorious for, and Mitchell failed to understand it. Why wouldn’t he allow any fallen knight to get close to him? Did he think himself so far above everyone that he didn’t have to bother? Those thoughts had his grin falling away.
“JK Brooks,” Pierson responded coolly, then pulled out a chair for his client.
“Is he any good?” Alpha Panthera asked.
Mitchell sat and tried not to feel foolish for expecting Pierson to be happy to be in his company. “Yes, he is,” Mitchell informed the man he was representing. “He has a perfect memory and is regarded as a connoisseur of law. However, he’s not the best. That would be me.” Pierson had natural gifts, but it was Mitchell who’d garnered a reputation for his hard work and drive. Only one reassignment from getting to headquarters, he’d get there despite the heavy competition for any open spots. It might take him a few more decades as he was newly assigned to New York, but Mitchell’s patience was going to pay off.
“I still can’t believe that woman is dragging me in here. How many different versions of our separation agreement have you sent over?” the leader of the jaguars asked.
“Fifteen,” Mitchell responded. There were exactly that many letters from Pierson categorically denying each portion of the agreement he’d hashed out with Alpha Panthera.
Mitchell stood as the judge walked in. Once the man was seated, Mitchell once again settled in his own. Fighting the desire to stare out of the corner of his eye at the gorgeous blond, his pride demanded that he stay focused on the task at hand.
“Let’s get started,” the judge said. “Is there any portion of the separation agreement we can agree upon without intervention?”
“No, Your Honor,” Pierson stated.
“Your Honor, JK Murphy refused every invitation I offered to work through these points of conflict so we would not have to waste the time of a hand-selected judge as yourself to intervene. Fifteen letters of rejection almost seemed personal.”
The judge smiled. “JK Murphy, would you happen to have a personal ax to grind with JK Brooks or Alpha Panthera, forcing me to ask for your recusal?”
Pierson’s chin lifted, and Mitchell wondered if he’d admit that they did have a very personal connection. If so, Mitchell would demand recusal and sprint out of the room after him. They’d fix the churning emotions inside them; then he’d drag Pierson against any available surface to finally touch every inch of him. “Despite graduating from the same fallen knight class as JK Brooks, I can say with comfortable honesty that we do not know each other well. Certainly not enough to have developed a reason to deny his client’s attempts to move forward with this separation agreement simply based on a personal conflict. They were repudiated because they insulted my client.”
Mitchell wondered if it was good news or bad that Pierson had told the judge they were strangers. It was the truth; they’d never had the opportunity to learn anything about one another, and being in a courtroom representing opposing forces didn’t avail them the chance to change that either. There was an itch inside him to argue with Pierson, though it wouldn’t help his cause—personal or professional.
“Very well, let’s start from the beginning. Alpha Barstow Panthera was chosen by Fate for his role as leader before he met Alpha-mate Jelena Panthera; therefore the title will not be shared. I will not listen to arguments to the contrary. Every precedent supports my decision. There are two properties in dispute?”
