Page 29 of The Alpha's Betrayed Mate

Not Rylan, though. His son had made a beeline for a seat in the front row, and his silver eyes hadn’t left Belmont’s face.

“First of all,” Belmont said once the pack were more or less assembled, “some news. I am, if it wasn’t obvious, still alive. So is Venna.” He was heartened to see relief and delight on the faces of the wolves looking back at him. “She’s back at the library, fast asleep, her wounds dressed by the senior Lorekeeper. I don’t doubt she’ll make a full recovery.” What other possible outcome was there? “Secondly, I’ll request a full report of the events of last night. As you can imagine, I missed some of the details.” That actually won a soft titter of laughter from a couple of wolves, and Belmont was surprised to notice a faint smile crossing his face in response.

The pack didn’t have much to add to his understanding of events, in the end. They’d all been searching high and low for Rylan on the island when Yara had raised the alarm, down by the beach, at which point they’d discovered that Venna had broken out of captivity and made for the water. He was pleased to note that, after a few momentary hesitations, each wolf referred to Venna by name, not by her usual epithet of ‘the exile’. Unable to catch her before she reached the water, and a little confused about why she was making a break for an uninhabited island, the pack had borrowed a boat that was moored at the docks and followed her across the water.

“I witnessed it all.” Raske’s voice, wearier than Belmont had ever heard it, but still firm enough to command the room into immediate silence. The old wolf rose to his feet, leaning hard on his staff. His activities last night had taken a lot out of him. “I saw Venna draw the demon’s attention from the Alpha and his son. I heard it speak to her, in our own language, something I had never witnessed a demon do. I’m ashamed to admit I drew some false conclusions about their interaction until I heard what she said to it. I heard her offer it her life in exchange for ours. And when it refused to bargain, I watched her fight it. I knew from the first blow that she had every intention of dying in the effort to defeat that monster.”

“And she almost did,” Belmont said, his voice hoarse.

“I helped,” Rylan broke in, clearly at the very end of his patience. “I helped, did you see? I threw the demon’s claw so she could get it. I got it right in the eye.”

“It was an excellent throw,” Belmont agreed after a moment of hesitation. His old instincts told him that he ought to silence his son, to scold him for speaking out of turn in a situation like this. But how far had those instincts gotten him? And the proud grin that broke out across Rylan’s face like sunshine was its own reward. Belmont let himself smile back for a moment, then turned his attention back to Raske.

“Lorekeeper, I don’t doubt your spell is what eased Venna back from the very brink of death. I saw what it cost you, and I am more grateful than I can say.”

But Raske raised his hand, shaking his head in protest. “No, Alpha. Your words honor me where I should be scolded. I allowed my foolish suspicions and assumptions to blind me to the truth about that young woman. She has given more of herself in service to this pack than I ever have, and I have shamed myself by casting doubt upon her. I say this now, in the spirit of penance as well as the spirit of clarity.” Raske was gripping his staff tightly, his silver eyes burning as he emphasized each word. Belmont wondered if he’d been rehearsing that speech all night.

“That does bring us to the subject of the trial,” Belmont said, gesturing towards the chairs they were all seated in. “Obviously, Venna will not be able to join us, but I think we can continue without her. She’d already given her testimony, after all.” His pack were exchanging uneasy glances now, clearly deeply uncomfortable with the prospect of returning to raking Venna over the coals in the light of what she’d done the night before.

“Alpha, are you sure that’s necessary?” Raske, looking more aggrieved than anyone else. “Perhaps, given the circumstances—”

“No, I think it’s very necessary indeed,” Belmont said firmly. “It is my proudest and most solemn duty to lead this pack as Alpha. My respect for our traditions and for the rule of law cannot be overstated, and I would never forgive myself if I allowed such a serious process to lapse without comment.” He straightened his back, wincing a little as his ribs protested his deep inhalation. “It was a mistake to convene the trial in the first place, and for that I ask your forgiveness. To give you all a proper understanding of this mistake requires me to explain a long, long series of mistakes that reach back to the day I was first made Alpha of this pack—and I beg your indulgence as I do so.”

He’d never seen such vivid shock on the faces of his pack. Even Raske’s jaw dropped. It would have made him laugh if he hadn’t felt so immensely vulnerable. Belmont pressed on, heart pounding, his voice feeling strange and rusty in his throat. He told them the whole story, starting with his childhood friendship with his best friend’s little sister, building to the day she’d confessed her feelings for him and he’d turned her down, frightened that the strength of his feelings for her would interfere with his ability to be an objective and balanced Alpha. He told them about the decision to exile her, about the confusion and pain he’d fought with in secret, so convinced that he could only show them the face of a calm, resolved leader who knew exactly what was best for the pack. He felt his voice shake with more emotion than he’d ever let show in front of his pack before as he spoke about the awful aftermath of the tragic death of Marroc and Korvi, the way he and Tetra had tried to grieve together, but been held apart again and again by his unwillingness to acknowledge the full weight of his pain. When he looked up, he saw tears streaming down Yara’s face—but the look of understanding and forgiveness in her eyes filled him with the courage he needed to continue.

And finally, he told them about the last few months. About Venna’s confession that she’d been protecting the pack in secret all these years, how reluctant she’d been to even tell them. He tried to keep the story short and direct, feeling a strange tendency to wander down tangents and dwell on certain details… how clever she was, how insightful, the way she was always a step ahead of him, always seeing straight through him when he tried to dissemble or hide. By the time he got to the hardest part—the part he’d really been worried about telling the pack—he had the strangest suspicion that his pack already knew what he was about to say. For some reason, he remembered the day Marroc and Tetra had confessed to him and Venna that they were in love, that they were soulmates—how all four of them had roared with laughter at the suggestion that he and Venna hadn’t known from the beginning.

“Venna isn’t just this pack’s most powerful warrior or its bravest protector,” he said. “To me, at least, she’s even more than that. She is my soulmate. And I am asking you, as my pack and the most important people in my life, to accept this humble plea. Overturn the foolish decision of an Alpha who was beneath you, but hopes one day not to be. Welcome Venna back to the pack where she belongs—not only as a member, but as my partner in leadership and the mother to my future child.”

He’d expected a ringing silence, the stern frown of Raske. He’d expected deliberation, discussion, questions and concerns to be raised and answered. What he hadn’t expected was for the whole pack to rise to their feet as one, and for a storm of applause to break out that was loud enough to be heard on every island in the archipelago. He also hadn’t expected Rylan to hurtle up onto the stage and hug him so hard that he had to hide the wince of pain at the pressure on his injuries.

And all he could think, as the pack roared their riotous approval, was that Venna would be furious he hadn’t woken her to witness this.

Chapter 18 - Venna

It was a long, long sleep. Venna kept finding herself on the very edge of waking up with the vague suspicion that something was waiting for her. Then she’d sink back into the warmth of her bed and be lost again to that deep, dreamless dark. Something told her that she needed it. And even when she was distantly aware of movement and motion, of soft voices and even a gentle swaying motion, she didn’t let it draw her out of sleep. Not until she was ready.

And when at last she was ready, she opened her bleary eyes to see the blessedly familiar sight of her own room. Blinking, she propped herself up on her elbows, disoriented but pleasantly surprised by the sight. Had it been a dream, then, that she’d been a prisoner? Why had part of her been expecting to wake up in a basement, or in a room with bars on the windows? And then she looked down at herself, at the bandages that were wrapped around what felt like every part of her body, and she felt her memory come rushing back in. With it came panic… panic that was only ameliorated a little by another quick glance around her room. If they wanted to execute her, surely they wouldn’t have returned her to her old room—right? Nor would she have been allowed to sleep for so long. Venna frowned down at her bandaged forearm, remembering the way the demon’s jaws had carved a deep, bleeding gouge into the flesh there. With a shudder, she tore the bandage loose, bracing herself to see the half-healed wound—but to her surprise, all that was there was a scar that looked a little fresher than the others. Surely not. A wound like that would take days to heal, if not longer.

With real worry gripping her now, she braced herself for the inevitable wave of agony and slid out of bed. The trick was to do it all at once, she’d learned—let the pain hit you, breathe through it, and hope you weren’t doing even more damage as you set about your day. But though there were a few twinges here and there as she moved, it felt more like stiffness from lying in bed for so long than the pain of an unhealed injury. Thoroughly spooked now, Venna moved cautiously to the door and pushed it open. The house was quiet, and one glance down the hallway made her clap her hand over her mouth, frozen with guilt at having forgotten. Rylan. The last time she’d seen him, he’d just antagonized the most powerful demon she’d ever met—a demon she was still struggling to believe hadn’t killed her. She was calling his name as she moved down the hallway towards his door, repeating it over and over with a rising inflection. His room was empty, his bed neatly made, his notebooks stacked neatly on the desk—the room looked exactly the way she’d expect it to be if the demon had killed him—

She turned, her mind already racing ahead to where she might go to find out what had happened to him, and she was so distracted by the thought that she didn’t see Belmont until he was all but on top of her. He made a surprised sound as she barrelled straight into him, the breath rushing out of him in a rush, and then his arms closed around her and she let herself lean into the warmth. It was only then that she realized that she was wearing not much more than bandages and one of Belmont’s white T-shirts. It was a good thing he’d stopped her before she’d run all the way across the settlement mostly naked, she thought faintly.

“You’re awake!”

That startled her all over again. Had she ever heard that much enthusiasm in Belmont’s voice, that much easy joy? She squinted up at him, suddenly suspicious that her withdrawn, silent old friend had been replaced with an impostor. But it was Belmont, alright. She’d know that face anywhere—and his smile, though wider than she remembered, was unmistakably him, too. Pathetic, how quickly she turned to mush when she looked at him. After everything he’d done to her, looking at him right now she could barely remember why she was angry with him.

“Rylan’s fine,” he said quickly, clearly reading some of the worry in her face. “Completely fine. Even complained about how quickly his scratches healed. Said he wanted a scar. He’s at the beach,” he added, nodding towards the empty room.

“Not building another boat, I hope,” Venna said faintly.

“Yes, I heard about that little project.” A disapproving note crept into his voice, and she narrowed her eyes at him, opening her mouth to offer him a blistering rebuke… but then she saw the glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Belmont, are youmessingwith me?” The glint intensified. “Whoareyou?” she demanded. “Did you lose your mind while I was sleeping?”

“Maybe,” he said easily. “You were asleep for a while. How are you feeling?”

“More healed than I should be,” she said, pinning him with her most suspicious look. “How long was I asleep?”

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