Page 14 of The Alpha's Betrayed Mate

“Nothing so elaborate as a trial,” Raske said, his voice cold. “A hearing, I suppose.”

Belmont steeled himself. The pack were gathering to hear his verdict, and he knew there was no putting it off any longer. The pack pulled up chairs, forming an odd little audience, and Raske saw to it that Venna was seated before them too—though Belmont intervened before one of her over-eager guards could bind her hands to the arms of the chair.

“This is a difficult time for our pack,” Belmont said, looking around at the tired faces of his pack. The only one who wouldn’t meet his eyes was Rylan, who was sitting in a hunched, resentful ball next to Yara. “An unprecedented tragedy, at the same time as an unprecedented journey to our new home. Our strength has not been challenged like this in some time, but my belief in that strength has not wavered.” He paused. “We are here to talk about a wolf who was exiled from the pack eight years ago, at another time of great sadness. Raske?”

The lorekeeper stepped forward. Belmont had always admired his easy confidence when he spoke before a crowd. He was in his element now as he drew himself up, his expression severe. “Venna was banished when her negligence caused the deaths of two pack members. The terms of her exile were clear, and were broken when she returned to the pack. According to pack law, a banished wolf who returns from exile must suffer an even more severe punishment. Precedent suggests execution.” Belmont had known that was coming, had braced himself to hear it—but to his surprise, the lorekeeper pressed on immediately. “However, as Alpha Belmont so wisely pointed out, these are deeply turbulent and unprecedented times for our pack. And from my conversations with each of you, I am confident in saying that the pack feels that circumstances must be taken into account as much as tradition. Exile as she is, Venna did fight bravely in the pack’s defense. Many have wisely said, too, that they are reluctant to suggest yet more death in the wake of that attack.”

Belmont inclined his head as though this was exactly what he’d been expecting to hear, though his heart was thudding crazily against his chest with relief. He’d been gearing himself up to negotiate with a crowd demanding Venna be executed. He should have trusted them, he realized, scanning the crowd of weary faces. Didn’t he know them well enough to know they weren’t so unreasonable? He’d let fear get the better of him, he realized. But fear of what? Fear that his pack would want to take Venna away from him, of history repeating? It hadn’t been his pack who’d sent Venna away eight years ago, he reminded himself, feeling that old wound ache. They’d approved of it, certainly—no Alpha ruled long making decisions that the pack disagreed with—but it had still been his choice and his choice alone. He bore that responsibility, not just as the Alpha who decided on her sentence… but as the man who’d pushed her away when she’d told him how she felt about him.

He knew what he had to do. The idea had come to him last night while he’d tossed and turned, and he was still half convinced it was crazy. But after what had happened last night, and after what Rylan had said on the walk over about Venna being his aunt, he knew it was the only thing he could suggest.

“Thank you for these thoughts, Raske. I agree with the pack that we’ve seen more than enough violence. I want to speak practically, too. Our numbers have been halved.” There was a murmur of grief, of agreement. “The task ahead of us was always considerable, even for a pack at our original size. We have a settlement to establish, all the while dealing with the ongoing demonic threat. There is too much work, and not enough wolves to do it. Let me be the first to admit that there is too much work on my shoulders.” He took a breath, aware of the weight of the silence in the room, aware that revealing any kind of weakness in front of his pack was likely to earn Raske’s ire if he didn’t play it exactly right. “In times of hardship, a pack needs their Alpha more than in times of peace. So, too, does a son need his father. Last night, I let down my son, and I let down my pack.” He saw Rylan look up sharply at that, and pushed on. “Because I wasn’t home to watch him, Rylan ran away. I’m deeply grateful that you all helped to find him and bring him home safe, but it has made it clear to me that I need help if I am to attend to my duties as Alpha while also keeping my son safe. It’s an unconventional solution for an unconventional situation,” he said, not trusting himself to look at Venna as he spoke. “But to atone for her transgressions against the pack, Venna will take on the task of caring for and protecting Rylan.”

He was relieved, at least, that Venna didn’t immediately cry out in protest. The pack were exchanging glances with one another and murmuring, clearly surprised by the suggestion, but he felt tentative hope dawning when he saw an unmistakable smile beginning to spread across Rylan’s face—the first he’d seen since the boy had arrived, he realized with a pang. It was Raske who cleared his throat and broke the silence, and if he’d been surprised by the suggestion, he was hiding it with his characteristic poise.

“Unconventional indeed,” Raske said gravely. “A weighty responsibility, protecting our pack’s future—its children. I am certain every wolf here remembers that the protection of a child was the very task that Venna failed to carry out.” Belmont felt his heart sink, saw the pained look on Venna’s face when he finally turned to look at her. But Raske sailed on, merciless and serene. “Her negligence caused the death of her own brothers—Korvi, barely three years old, and Marroc, who was killed in his desperate attempt to protect the child as Venna failed to. I take no pleasure in delivering this grim reminder,” the old wolf said, turning his pitiless gaze to Venna. And at last, he relented. “But I think I speak for the pack when I say that desperate times call for desperate measures. You are not forgiven, Venna. Nor does this role indicate you have returned to the pack. You are and will remain an exile. But I hope that working to protect this child offers you an opportunity to begin to atone for what you have done.”

The old wolf may as well have driven a dagger into Venna’s heart. Belmont could feel her pain as clearly as if it were his own. She was curled in on herself in a rictus of shame, eyes fixed on the floor, her eyes brimming with an unfamiliar sheen of tears—but Raske smiled as he returned his gaze to the pack, and Belmont knew he couldn’t interject, couldn’t say anything in Venna’s defense without undermining his own authority in front of the pack. He could see from their nodding that the pack had accepted his verdict, that his and Raske’s words together had swayed them.

He only hoped it had been worth the damage it had done.

Chapter 8 - Venna

“Why did you do that?”

She’d held her tongue long enough. She’d been silent during the whole horrible experience at the community center, silent while Raske humiliated her in front of the wolves she’d dedicated her whole life to protecting, silent even while Belmont marched her back to his house like some kind of prisoner. She’d been silent, and obedient, and she’d played the role of the good penitent as best as she was able. But now that they’d finally gotten away from the rest of the pack, she was going to get an honest answer from the Alpha or she was going to tear him to pieces with her bare hands.

To his credit, Belmont looked utterly exhausted as he closed the door behind them. Rylan had asked permission to play on the beach for the rest of the afternoon, and Belmont had clearly been too surprised by the boy’s suddenly polite and cheerful demeanor to refuse him. So they were alone, and she knew Rylan’s commitment to his secret boat project would ensure they’d be alone for quite some time.

“Venna, I’ve spent the last three days convinced the pack was going to demand that you be executed,” he said, rubbing his forehead tiredly. “This isgoodnews.”

“It didn’t feel like good news,” she snapped, folding her arms across her chest. “It felt like being publicly whipped. That’s my punishment? Being your nanny? You could have mentioned something last night. At least given me a warning. You owe me that much.”

There it was—the subtle shift in his body language that told her his temper had finally broken loose of the iron bonds he trapped it in. It was oddly satisfying to see him clench his fists at his sides, to know she’d gotten to him. The one thing he prided himself on was his self control… so of course it was the one thing she couldn’t stop herself from going after. It was the only revenge that remained to her, hollow as it felt. “You ought to be grateful you’re alive,” he snarled, advancing on her across the kitchen. “The way you’ve behaved since you got here is shameful. Deceiving the senior Lorekeeper, disturbing a funeral where you weren’t wanted—you shouldn’t be here at all, Venna. You’re an exile.”

“Oh, am I? It’s been thirty seconds since someone reminded me of that, so I forgot,” she snapped, knowing that her childish tone would make him even angrier. “Make your mind up, Belmont. You keep giving me orders then reminding me I’m an exile. If I’m not part of your pack, what gives you the right to tell me what to do?”

“I am trying to keep you alive,” Belmont growled, taking another step closer. “I am trying to handle an extremely difficult situation without any more wolves winding up dead, and yes, I’m including you in that number. Venna. Is it really so much to ask that you just—do what you’re told?”

“I’ll do it,” she said coldly. “Of course I’ll do it. But I’m not doing it to keep Raske happy, or to preserve your precious authority as Alpha, or for any other reason than that Rylan needs a role model in his life who isn’tyou.” She put as much venom as she could into her voice, wondering if an attack on his parenting would be enough to make him explode at her completely. What she wasn’t expecting was the way he seemed to slump, as though all the wind had been taken out of his sails in one fell swoop.

She waited for him to snap back at her. To tell her she was a worse role model than him, that he couldn’t think of anyone more reckless and foolhardy to teach his son, that all she was good at was violence… but instead the silence stretched out between them. An awful realization was dawning on Venna that she had, perhaps for the first time since she’d arrived here, touched a real nerve.

“Belmont,” she said, feeling suddenly wrong-footed. “I only meant—”

“There’s a room prepared,” Belmont said, his voice hollow and utterly drained of the feeling that had been there a minute ago. “You’ll sleep there. There are some spare clothes in the wardrobe you can help yourself to. Rylan will be your responsibility, twenty-four hours a day—his safety, his wellbeing, his entertainment. Understood?”

He was so close to her, Venna thought, looking up into Belmont’s impassive face. For the last eight years, he might as well have been in another world—there had been no way to get close to him. Even the sound of his voice had been a rare treat. Right now, she was standing close enough to reach out and grab him… but he was still as distant as the stars above them. She wanted to shake him by the shoulders until he listened, until this thick sheet of ice between them finally cracked and broke away, until he turned back into the man she’d known all those years ago.

“We were friends once,” she whispered. “We were best friends, Belmont. The four of us. Don’t you remember how much we loved each other? What happened?”

He met her gaze, finally, and whatever trace of vulnerability she’d seen when she’d made that comment about his parenting, it was well and truly gone. “That was a long time ago,” he said flatly. And then he was gone, leaving her utterly alone. The thought was almost enough to make her laugh, if it hadn’t been so sad. A new home, a new world… and here she was, repeating the same stupid patterns. Imagining she saw something in Belmont that simply wasn’t there.

Venna found the room that had been intended for Tetra and climbed under the covers, feeling too empty to even cry as she curled into a ball and waited for sleep to claim her. But sleep didn’t come. Instead, stirred up by yet another pointless confrontation with Belmont, she found herself stalking through memories that were better left in the past. Belmont had been her brother’s friend first, but it wasn’t long before she was tagging along with them on their adventures, proving that her age and smaller size didn’t stop her from being an excellent addition to a team. The gang was complete when Tetra joined them, evening their numbers and pulling Marroc sharply out of his arrogant lone-wolf bravado. Nobody had ever seen two more obvious soulmates—when Tetra and Marroc shyly told Venna that they were together, she’d been genuinely shocked that they’d thought she didn’t know.

When had she realized how she felt about Belmont? Definitely not as early as Tetra and Marroc had found each other—she’d held out longer than that, telling herself that just because she felt strongly about him, it didn’t mean they were anything more than best friends. But at some point, so gradually that she’d hardly noticed the realization creeping up on her, she’d simply known that she loved him. Her mistake had been in letting herself believe that he felt the same way. She read too much into the long looks they shared, the lazy afternoons spent in each other’s company, barely speaking, the way every casual touch made her whole body shiver. She imagined a whole, shining, make-believe world, and she let herself believe it was real.

And then she’d spoken it aloud, and it had all fallen down around her, inconsequential as rain. Her whole world, dashed to pieces in an instant as Belmont shook his head and walked away. Was it any wonder she’d been distracted? Was it any wonder that the demons had come, eager to pounce on her in her weakest moment?

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