3. Pack #2
“Yes, Natasha is correct.” He nodded and added smoothly, “A controlled hunt would be appropriate. We’ll need patrols as well though I don’t anticipate going too far from Nightvallen so the monsters should mostly keep away.”
“What about the Marlsea Forest? The Lourmouth Grove,” Amaris suggested. “That used to be one of your favorites, Weryn.”
“We used to do First Shifts there,” Ryder said with a snap of his fingers as the memory flooded back. “You shifted there for the first time, didn’t you?”
She smiled and nodded. “Yes, many of us did. It would be a good place to begin.”
“It would be. All right. We have our plan.” He brought his hands together. “Leaders, please arrange tasks among yourselves and our people to make this happen.”
The leaders in his Bloodline were currently Demos, Siban, Kayne and Amaris.
He would need to appoint more. But these four worked well together and were highly respected by everyone else.
People began to file out of the room. Many were headed off to the Acolytes’ quarters.
Others still for nights on the town. His gaze met Natasha’s and he indicated that she should follow him. She inclined her head in response.
He headed to the study where he had spoken to Amaris and Kayne last. The fire was going and the room was cozy.
He leaned back in a large leather chair behind the vast expanse of desk.
A bottle of blood wine and two glasses were at hand.
He grunted in amazement and approval. The Ever Dark always provided.
“Please sit,” he said as he poured blood wine for both of them.
She gracefully lowered her into the chair. Her eyes flickered around the room. She hadn’t gone much beyond the “public’ rooms of the Weryn Palace, he knew, staying with her House in the mansion where they’d been assigned originally.
“The palace is beautiful,” she said as she sipped her wine. She looked down into the cup after the first taste, her eyes widening with pleasure, and quickly took another sip.
“Most everything I made,” he said, feeling a bit like he was bragging, but really meaning that this was his home, the home of the Weryn. “Natasha, I’m surprised you came tonight, let alone spoke up.”
She nodded, not meeting his eyes, but staring still down into the wine glass. “I told myself that my House would leave after Lawson’s death, but…”
“But you did not,” he said, stating the obvious.
Another nod. “Did you always hate him?”
“No,” he answered. “But you already know that. You want to believe something different.”
Her brows drew together. “You didn’t just defeat him. You destroyed him.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “But he gave me no other choice.”
Her head lifted sharply, lips parted to claim otherwise, but then she pressed them together and said nothing.
“Could I have done less? Could I have spared him? Yes, but that would only have been a temporary solution,” Ryder said. “He was poisoned maybe from the first. But he definitely grew further into it. Year after year. Did you always love him?”
She didn’t answer that for long moments, but then said, “No, not always. When that side of him came out that was… poisoned, as you say.”
He smoothed his hands over the wood desk. He remembered bringing down the tree that made this. It had been struck by lightning. He had finished felling it and then dragged it back to Nightvallen. He’d cut it, sanded it, stained it with his own hands.
“You cannot be half-in and half-out of Weryn, Natasha,” he said.
She nodded, her knuckles going white as she held her cup tightly.
“You might think that you’re saving your House from me, but what you’re really doing is exiling them from their own Bloodline for a man you didn’t always love,” he said. “And who didn’t deserve the love you gave him.”
She curled forward. “You think I should have stopped him.”
“I think we all should have,” he admitted. “You’re a leader. Strong, fierce, independent but also loyal, loving and caring. He was none of those things.”
“He wanted to be,” she whispered.
“I will take your word for that,” he said. “I am not holding the past against anyone.”
Her silver eyes flickered up to him.
“I would be the greatest hypocrite if I did. When I say this, I mean it. Caemorn–Kaly–is welcome in my palace and I am welcome in his. And we hurt one another far worse than anyone else,” he told her.
“But he is my friend. He is family. He is pack. And because of this, we must go forward together and forgive one another.”
She didn’t blink as he spoke.
“If we can start anew, you are pack, Natasha. Everything in the past is in the past and it will stay there,” he told her. “But if you cannot forgive me, that is another choice open to you. But I will not let you take your House with you.”
Her head lifted. “You–”
“You go alone. They are free to make their own choices. Even your Children,” he said.
“Alone,” she breathed.
“That seems harsh to you. Perhaps even unfair,” he guessed.
“The old Weryn–the Weryn of tales–would have killed me,” she said.
He nodded. “I would have done so without giving you a chance to choose.”
“You do not keep your enemies close. You kill them and are done with them,” she said with understanding.
“But that was before. Now, I am giving you this choice.” He took a drink of his own wine.
She nodded. “If I wished to go, I already would have.”
He let that sentence lay. It was true. She had not only stayed, but had come to tonight’s meeting and made a good suggestion. Having her stay–if she was loyal–would finish any bad feelings about Lawson. Not that he thought anyone who actually knew Lawson mourned him other than her.
“I want to remain,” she said. “I want to be pack.”
He nodded. “Good. I am glad.”
“What can I do to assist? If you need any assistance–”
“Speak to Demos. Your idea about the hunt was a good one. You should be in charge of that aspect of the courting,” he said.
She nodded and rose with his nod of permission before she drained her glass and set it down. She studied his face before saying, “I would like to remember Lawson. I realize there’s no body to bury, but–”
“You can do something privately. But it will not be something that I recognize. He fought me, Natasha,” he said.
“No, I realize that.” She swiped a hand through the air. “I am going to burn some of his old things. Just to let it all go. Do I have your permission to do that?”
“Yes,” he said.
The old Weryn would have told her absolutely not. But Lawson had never actually been a threat. He’d just been a poisoned fool. It was hard to remember Lawson as the one that had sired him. But he was actually glad of that.
“I’ll take my leave then and go speak with Demos,” she said.
“Later then,” he answered.
He was not long alone after she walked out the door. He was turning over his feelings about Lawson when he realized that Jack Harrow and Julian were outside his door. The smell of the father–a sort of woodsy, clean scent–flowed into him as there was a knock.
“Weryn?” Julian asked.
“Please come in.”
Ryder stood up. Julian was his prince. Julian came in followed by Jack.
The father and son were very alike in many ways.
They were both handsome men with trim, athletic builds.
They moved with similar economies of motion though Julian had the Vampiric grace.
Jace was more rugged than his son, clearly having spent many more years exposed to the sun and wind.
Jack Harrow looked exactly like what he was: an adventurer.
“I hope you’re not too busy,” Julian said as they walked inside. “I wanted to introduce you and my dad. Dad, this is Weryn. Weryn, this is my dad, Jack.”
Jack stuck out his hand to shake. It was a firm, confident grip. Jack’s smile was genuine and Ryder immediately liked the man.
“Won’t you both sit?” Ryder offered.
Jack and Julian exchanged a glance. Julian gripped the back of one chair, but then he released his hold. “Ah, I actually have to go. But I know my dad wanted to talk with you if you have time. About the Weryn Bloodline.”
He said his father was considering Weryn.
“Of course, even if I wasn’t free, I’d make the time,” Ryder said genuinely.
Julian beamed. “That’s great. I’m so glad. So, Dad,” here Julian looked anxious and was nibbling at his lower lip, “you’ll be okay without me? You’re sure?”
“Yes, son, like I said, I’ll be fine,” Jack assured Julian with a squeeze on the upper right arm.
“You just call me mentally if you need me,” Julian said.
“I will.” Jack smiled indulgently. “But I’m sure I'll be perfectly safe and have everything I need here.”
“Oh, I know, Ryder will take care of everything, it’s just…” Julian ducked his head and cleared his throat. “When you’re done, just call and I’ll come get you.”
“All right, Julian. I will,” Jack promised.
Julian reached for the door handle, but then grimaced. “Daemon wants me to practice teleporting. Do I have your permission, Ryder?”
“You do.”
Julian’s purple eyes closed and within a moment, the young man was gone. Both of them looked at the empty space.
“I cannot get used to that,” Jack admitted.
“To be honest, neither can I,” Ryder agreed.
The two of them then smiled at each other and sat down.
“By the way, would you prefer to be called Ryder or Weryn? Everyone seems to use them interchangeably and so–”
“You can call me either. But Ryder is fine. Weryn feels formal,” Ryder told him.
Jack nodded and he could almost see the man filing that away for later. “I know Julian told you about my interest in the Weryn Bloodline.”
“He did.”
“Which is why he was acting all Mother Hen-ish, I think,” Jack said with an understanding smile.
“It’s a great honor to be considered by the father of the prince,” Ryder said.
Jack’s eyebrows lifted, but then he nodded. “My son has always been important to me. But it is still hard to remember he’s the Vampire Prince, too.”
“How has it been coming back to him all grown up?” Ryder asked.
Jack’s eyebrows lifted again, but then a genuine look of gratefulness passed over his features. “Wonderful, but hard. I find myself mourning the boy he was when I… died.”
Ryder nodded. “I am having some of the same difficulties in regards to the Children I left so long ago. They have changed, but I still sometimes see them and treat them as if they are stuck in amber.”
“It’s gratifying to see them not needing you as much, but sometimes…”
“Sometimes you wish they would,” Ryder finished for him.
Jack nodded. “Not that I’m sure I could do anything for him. Not as a human anyways. And maybe only slightly more as a Vampire as I would be far weaker than he is.”
“Knowing that you’ll always be there might be of more comfort to him than anything else,” Ryder said softly.
Another nod from Jack. “I think you may be right about that.”
“So I am happy to tell you all you want to know about the Weryn Bloodline, but it’s really our people who make us who and what we are,” Ryder said. “So it might be good to have a group of us speak to you and not just me.”
Jack brightened. “That sounds perfect. So long as everyone has the time.”
“Yes, I…” Ryder stopped as he felt Balthazar’s presence in his head before he heard the other Immortal’s voice.
Ryder! Oh, my dear man, we have a slight issue, Balthazar said. When it rains, it pours, you know.