Eventide of the Bear (The Wild Hunt Legacy #3) (31 page)

“You tried.” Calum’s accented voice had chilled. “It appears the God disagreed.”

Ben cleared his throat. “When the Mother forgives, the black disappears, leaving only normal scars behind. So…”

So how would Calum know if her banishment had happened or not? Emma frowned.

Calum glanced at Ben and then smiled at her. “To the eyes, nothing is left. But a banishment leaves marks on the soul for those who can see.” And a Cosantir could see.

“She wasn’t?” Cedrick stared at her. He stepped back, looking as if he’d been punched. “She
wasn’t
.”

Emma touched her face, feeling the thin scars. Cedrick had pronounced her banishment, but she’d never been able to face seeing the black marks on her face.

She’d never looked.

I was never banished.
“But Andre and Gary died because of me.”

“You were the excuse. You didn’t do anything.” Gawain glanced at Calum. “Hell, Emma was so innocent she didn’t even know how to flirt, let alone get two males to fight. I was the first male she’d ever had. Each time someone took her to a room, she was surprised—filled with delight—someone wanted her.”

Emma shook her head. “But, I—”

“By the God,” Ryder muttered and pulled her tighter against him. “Little bear, don’t you see? Those males were primed to fight. If you hadn’t provided an excuse, they’d have found something else.”

Ben kissed her fingers. “Honey bear, did you ask them to fight for your favor?”

“No, of course not!”

“A fair number of females do.” Ryder glanced toward the right, his eyes turning cold. “Genevieve always did. It’s not against the law…just crappy behavior.”

“But I’d chosen a male and turned to another.”

“Aye,” Ben agreed. “It’s okay. It happens. A more experienced female might—
might
—have been able to control her response.”

“But a female at her first Gathering is usually overwhelmed,” Vicki said. “You’re out of control. Your mind is trapped in all the sensations.”

Every male’s scent, the sound of a voice, a laugh…she’d kept getting lost. She turned to Gawain. “I didn’t flirt? Didn’t do anything wrong?”

“No, you didn’t do anything at all.” His lips turned up. “There’s no law against being adorable.”

Ben’s growl rumbled through his chest and vibrated across her skin.

Gawain took a careful step back.

With a satisfied grumble, Ben stroked her hair. “You reacted like any young female, darlin’. You did nothing wrong.”

Her eyes filled with tears. She’d paid, perhaps unfairly, but she was here and… “They died.”

One arm around Vicki, Alec stood next to Calum. “The consequences of being stupid can be harsh. They were young, driven by testosterone, and out of control. They paid an ugly price.”

“The world isn’t always fair.” The God still rode Calum’s shoulders as he turned a black gaze upon Cedrick. “But judgments given by a Cosantir should be.”

“Three years.” Ryder’s hand tightened painfully on hers. “You lived wild for three fucking years.” With every breath, his growls grew more audible.

“Emma. By the God…” The Mt. Hood Cosantir sank to his knees as if unable to remain upright. “What have I done?”

“You drove a vulnerable, innocent female into the wilderness. Made her think she was guilty. Alone for three. Fucking. Years. That’s what you
did
.” Ryder’s fury reverberated from the ridges. He rose. His hands were claws at his side.

In the clearing, the shifters whispered, and Emma realized their anger was focused on the Mt. Hood Cosantir. On Emma’s behalf.

She had friends.
Friends
.

Before Ryder could attack, Emma grabbed his calf with both hands and held him back. “No fighting.”

“He wronged you. He—”

“Maybe. But Gary was his
son
. You know how you’d feel if Minette was hurt or…”
Died.
She couldn’t even say the word. The world would stop if Minette died.

Ryder froze, and after a second, his fingers uncurled. “Fuck.” He met her eyes, sharing the knowledge. A child’s death would be the worst pain ever possible.

“Emma.” Still on his knees, Cedrick had tears in his eyes. “I’ve been so…filled with hatred. Gary’s death. Andre’s death. Neither was your fault.” His jaw tightened as his voice lowered. “In my grief, I looked for someone or something to blame.”

Pain radiated from him.

“Cosantir—”

He shook his head, his lips twisting into a half-smile. “Not for much longer. I think when I return, the God will lift his hand from me and choose another. My vision has grown…narrow.”

“But…” He’d no longer be the Cosantir of his territory?

He leaned forward and took her hand.

Ben tensed behind her. Ryder stepped closer.

“Emma, you are not like your mother, and you never were. I see that clearly now. The town and I treated you unfairly—as a child, as a female, as a bard. Eventually, I hope you can forgive me.”

“I already have,” she said gently.

She’d learned something about people. About Cedrick. And about Ryder, as well. Both her mother and Genevieve were like stones falling into a small pond. The self-centered impact sent anger and hatred rippling outward to affect those around them.

Chuckling, Alec helped the stunned Mt. Hood Cosantir to his feet. “Emma has a soft heart. My female would’ve gutted you and left you for the coyotes.”

“Damn straight,” came from Vic.

“I don’t care if she’d disembowel him or not. Got other concerns here.” Ryder lifted Emma from Ben’s lap and onto her feet. His dark voice took on a sharp edge. “Dammit, female, why the fuck didn’t you tell us about all this before?”

“Dammit, female?”

Excuse me?

She’d survived Cedrick, banishment, hiking down a mountain. Her polite allotment was gone. All used up. “Let me think.” She put her hands on her hips. “Maybe because I’ve only liked you for a week or so? Or maybe because you have issues with females?”

He blinked at her, as startled as a cougar bitten on the nose by a mouse.

Dammit, female.
Oooh, the insult still burned. Come to think of it, hadn’t he asked a favor of her? “
Will you do me a favor and wallop me when I mess up?”

“So…
male
…be warned. Anytime you address me as
dammit, female
, you’ll get this for an answer.” She punched him on the arm. Hard.

Hard enough that he winced.

Ben looked shocked. “Emma?”

After a stunned moment, Ryder roared, his laughter deep and rich. “I need to be more careful about what I request.”

She checked his face carefully, surreptitiously shaking her throbbing hand. The man’s biceps were harder than rocks. “You’re serious?”

“Oh, yeah.” He hugged her and kissed her lightly. “Shows me you care, or you wouldn’t have bothered. I’ll try not to mess up again.”

He read her well. “Okay, then.”

As the anxiety trickled out of her, she started thinking about escape. She needed quiet. She wanted to hide. What must everyone think? Would they look down on her for…for causing this mess during Beltane?

Before she could take a step, the Cosantir—
her
Cosantir—stopped her. “Bard, Vicki said you knew Beltane songs. After some food and drink to revive you, might you grace us with a song or two?”

Rousing cheers filled the clearing and warmed her heart.

She looked around. The shifters of Cold Creek were smiling. Happy with her and for her. Yes, this was her town.

Angie pulled her away from Ben for a hug. Bree and Bonnie followed. Vicki grinned and said quietly, “Ice down your hand—and next time aim for a softer spot.”

Next time.

Knowing Ryder, the occurrence of a next time was entirely possible. Even better, Emma would be around to chastise him and would have the courage to do so.

With a wavering giggle, Emma hugged the small, incredibly tough female. “I will. I will do that.”

*

After the endless
night, the breakfast feast, and the singing, Emma had only enough strength to pull on a robe before she collapsed on her bed.

Brow creased with concern, Ryder hovered in the doorway. Behind him, Ben was making worried sounds under his breath like an aged grandsire.

Although their concern turned her insides squishy, she needed to be alone. Her breath hitched, and her eyes prickled with tears.

“By the God, Emma.” Aghast, Ryder started forward. “Don’t cry.”

She motioned toward the door. “Go on, you two. I’m fine. I just need to rest for a bit.” To be alone.

Ben nodded his understanding, yanked his littermate out of the room, and closed the door.

She had a moment to think how funny it was that the aloof cat was the brother most upset by her tears, and then…those tears spilled over and scalded her scratched cheeks. A sob escaped, and she buried her face in the pillow to muffle her weeping.

Oh, she wanted to scream. To hit something. To yell and mourn, and laugh and cry. And all she could do was cry.

Gary and Andre’s deaths hadn’t been her fault.
Not. My. Fault.

She hadn’t been banished. Not ever. The God hadn’t agreed with the Cosantir’s judgment. She hadn’t had to spend years alone, feeling hated.

So many long, silent nights, cold and hungry, yearning for her clan. Ragged sobs tore at her throat.

And still, she couldn’t hate Cedrick. He’d lost his son. Was no longer the powerful male of her youth. The years of grief…and hatred…had damaged him. Broken him.

The years had changed her, as well, for better and for worse.

Her weeping slowed. Stopped.

The pillow was wet against her cheek as she lay quietly, feeling better for the catharsis.

The years were over and done, and couldn’t be reclaimed. However, the master bard had taught her to study the past, even while remembering the Mother was a goddess of balance.

A wise shifter would note her blessings as well as her trials.

Blessings. Hmm. Well, although the years in the wilderness had been lonely ones, she’d also matured. She wasn’t as…flutter-brained…as many females her age.

During the time alone, she’d also grown as a bard, even if her audience had been tree fairies and birds.

Looking back on her youth, she knew her mother had left her overly…sensitive…to opinion. Emma expected other people to judge her harshly, and being alone had made the problem worse. She needed to work on those insecurities—although, like Ryder, she might mess up now and again.

Her lips curved up. It had been fun to punch him. However, considering the size and hardness of his fist, she wouldn’t ask him to do the same with her.

He’d sure been unhappy she hadn’t shared her past with him. She should have, but she’d been afraid. Fear had made her do quite a few stupid things, hadn’t it? Starting with behaving like a pursued goose when she’d run into Gawain.

Sitting up, Emma wiped her face and grinned ruefully. She deserved points for…eventually…conquering her panic and turning around. A half-laugh escaped her. Maybe
conquer
wasn’t the right word. More like
barely managed
. Still, she’d been returning to face him. She wasn’t a coward. Not completely.

The time when her need had controlled her actions had been frightening in a whole different way. Living around other shifters—male shifters—had apparently increased her sex drive to a fearsome pitch. In her desperation to return to the Gathering, she could easily have gone off a cliff.

She shook her head as she stared at her dirty hands. Two fingernails had been shredded down to the quick. Her palms were abraded and sliced in places. Her whole body was scraped from branches, bruised from falls. She’d been out of her mind.

Mating with Ben under the full moon, on the other hand, had been a whole different kind of madness.

She closed her eyes and remembered the feel of his sure hands, the powerful way he’d taken her, so fierce, yet totally in control. His demands had pulled her with him until she hadn’t felt anything except her need and his pleasure in satisfying it.

At her first Gathering—before everything had gone wrong—the matings had been pleasurable. With Ben, the sex had been overwhelmingly, terrifyingly intense. But, could she have let go if she hadn’t felt so safe as well? In his arms, she was sheltered.

Over the weeks in his home, she’d come to trust him. To desire him. To love him.

Was this what lifemates felt?

A breath caught in her chest. Maybe now she’d have a chance to answer the question.

She could stay here in Cold Creek, where they valued her as a bard. Where she had friends who stood beside her. She snorted. And where friends instructed her on the fine art of punching a wayward male.

Above all, the most thrilling—frightening—wonderful part of staying in Cold Creek was that Ben and Ryder lived here.

Needing comfort, she gathered her pillow into her arms. For years, she hadn’t needed to think about risking anything other than her physical safety. Risking her heart was—
be honest, bard
—a done deal. The two males already owned her heart.

She’d fallen for Ben a long time before, Ryder more recently, but no less powerfully. Just as well she loved them both, since they couldn’t be separated.