Page 20 of The Alpha's Arranged Mate

And in doing so, he’d doomed him to die.

He’d expected to be hauled off immediately to be held prisoner by the wolves of Darion’s pack. But instead they held him there, their eyes shifting uneasily between Darion and Renfrey. Their leader seemed at a loss, but Darion seemed utterly sure of himself, almost as though he’d been expecting something like this to happen. Reeve watched, feeling sick to his stomach, as Darion crossed to put a comforting arm around Lyrie’s unprotesting shoulder. Reeve could just make out what Darion was murmuring to her, and he realized with a sick jolt that his brother had leapt to the worst imaginable conclusion… not just that the two of them had lied about the Rite, but that it had been Reeve who’d been the reason that the union had been consummated. Against Lyrie’s will. The very idea that he’d do something so awful to her filled him with fury, and he took a deep breath to protest—then stopped himself dead in his tracks.

What was the point of exonerating himself? He was a dead man regardless. And at least if Darion thought that Reeve had forced Lyrie into this, his death would ensure that she was free of any blame. He caught Lyrie’s horrified gaze over Darion’s shoulder, and he could tell by the look on her face that she was following the same line of thought. Hoping fiercely that she’d get the message, he offered her a tiny little nod. She shook her head, the gesture furious but tiny, and he mouthed a plea, twitching his head to indicate the wolves around him.

For the first time since he’d known her, he saw tears spring to her eyes… but when she offered him a tiny little nod, he felt a huge weight lift off his chest.

She was hurried away not long after that, Syrra at her side. The senior lorekeeper shot Reeve a look as she went, and he wondered numbly if she believed that he’d done something so horrible. He considered Syrra a friend—the two of them had fought demons side by side. The idea that she might think of him as a monster made his chest ache. But if it meant that Lyrie’s name was clear, it was worth it. It was all worth it.

There wasn’t much to say after that. Renfrey called an immediate halt to the hearing, then turned to the unfamiliar lorekeeper whose spell had sealed Reeve’s fate so utterly. In that dark, glassy voice, the man informed the gathered wolves that the bond between Reeve and Lyrie had dissolved the moment Reeve had performed his act of violence against her. Grateful at least that he’d had his wits about him enough not to challenge the accusation, Reeve stayed silent, his head bowed.

The gathered wolves were dismissed, and the remaining lorekeepers left, too, their robes swishing softly against the library’s wooden floor. Reeve was left with the remaining Alphas—his brothers in arms, the men he’d come to this island with to build a new future together. He felt utterly numb as he slumped in his chair, wondering whether his former friends would speak their condemnations aloud or simply storm out of the room.

“I know you didn’t hurt her,” Renfrey said. For a moment, Reeve wasn’t sure he’d heard him properly. The other Alphas were nodding.

“What?”

“Are youkidding?” Torren almost exploded with the force of what he’d clearly been holding back for quite some time. “You couldn’t force Lyrie to do anything she didn’t want to do. If you’d hurt her, you’d be dead.”

“Enough,” Renfrey said sharply. “Lyrie’s formidable strength notwithstanding, Reeve, I consider you a close friend, and I don’t think you’d be capable of harming her either.”

“So why the hell didn’t you say anything when Darion—”

Belmont cleared his throat sharply, shooting a glance along the table at Renfrey. “Are we gathered as Council, or as friends?”

“Friends,” Renfrey said tiredly. “Friends, please. This night has been long enough.”

“Then we can speak freely.” Belmont’s shoulders dropped a little, as though releasing a tension he’d been holding. “Good. Reeve, that was some quick thinking on your part.”

“What are you talking about?” Torren said, glaring. “He didn’t say a damn thing.”

“Exactly. His silence cleared Lyrie of any wrongdoing, but he didn’t incriminate himself, either.”

“Save for the fact that every wolf on this island’s going to think he’s a rapist come sunrise,” Blaine rumbled.

“It’s fine,” Reeve said tiredly, rubbing his forehead. “Let them think what they like. If it means Lyrie can go back to her life, I’ll take the hit.”

“But the Blood Rite,” Torren said. He was out of his seat and pacing up and down behind the table—Reeve was impressed that he’d managed to keep himself still for the whole hearing. “Whoever wins is going to be Alpha of both packs. They’re never going to follow you if they think—”

Reeve laughed. “I’m not going towin, Torren. It’s kind of you to pretend I could, but let’s face it—Darion’s got me beaten. The only win I ever scored against my brother was leaving his pack for good, and look where that got me. No, I won’t be walking out of that fight alive.”

“But—your pack. Your company. You’re going to let Darion take over?”

Reeve shrugged, feeling eerily calm. “Let him take it. Lyrie knows the ropes well enough by now to run the Earth side of things—I’ll get some paperwork sorted tonight to make sure the transition of power is clear. It’ll be a legal nightmare, but that’s why I’ve got the best lawyers in the game.”

“You’re sure about this?” Renfrey was looking at him intently, and some old instinct made him straighten a little. Still a scared little kid under it all, at the end of the day, just wanting to make his superiors proud of him. “Because the Blood Rite, as you well know, can’t be revoked once the challenge has been made. There’s nothing I can do to get you out of this, Reeve. I wish that there was.”

“You did everything you could, Renfrey. I know that. Me and my brother… we were never going to get on. Better to end it like this. One pack, one leadership. Lyrie and Darion will work better together than he and I ever did,” he said softly. “I just want her to be happy.”

“It goes without saying, of course, that you must remain here on Kurivon.” Belmont’s voice broke in suddenly, an odd force behind his words that made Renfrey glance curiously over at him. “Once the challenge has been uttered, the packs are united, waiting only for the outcome of the duel to appoint a leader. In a strange way, you’ve already succeeded at your goal of uniting the packs, even before the duel takes place. Of course, no wolf who values his reputation would flee before the duel. He’d have lost all claim to his pack, and would have to rely on his wits to start a new life somewhere else.” Belmont cleared his throat softly. “As I said, this all goes without saying.”

“Quite,” Renfrey said, his eyes bright with dawning realization. “I’m certain that Reeve, who as a staunch traditionalist values his reputation highly, wouldn’t do something as foolish as sailing away in his yacht before the duel. Because—and I trust I’m getting this right—that would mean he’d simply forfeit all right to leadership to Darion without a drop of blood being spilled?”

“That’s right.” Belmont smiled faintly. “Not that it needs to be said—even among friends.”

If Reeve hadn’t felt absolutely numb, he had a feeling he might have been fighting back tears. He rose mechanically to his feet and gestured over his shoulder towards the door to the old library, acutely aware that this might be the last time he saw any of these wolves. His friends—his brothers in arms. “I’d better… get all that legal stuff in place,” he said awkwardly, to a chorus of meaningful nods. “And I suppose I’ll see you all at the duel, once Darion’s named the time and place.” He made his slow, stilted way across the hall, which suddenly felt a lot larger than it had when it was crowded with wolves. He hesitated on the threshold, turning back to them. “And—not for nothing—it was an honor to be part of this, with you all.”

He could already hear Torren talking at top speed when he clicked the door shut behind him, and he found a strange smile crossing his face as he walked out into the quiet evening air. Nothing around him felt real. Not the old library looming in the dark behind him, not the evening chorus of Kurivon’s wildlife, not even the stars winking serenely down at him from the black sky above. He put one foot in front of the other, cutting a wide path around the settlement to avoid running into anyone who might take it upon themselves to exert some influence on the outcome of the duel.

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