1. Simon
The stench of blood and offal combines with dust and coats the insides of my nostrils as Doris stands and stalks away from the unrecognizable mound of gore that was once Odette Muette. My skin crawls as though a thousand ants are using my veins as thoroughfares, and Tálstrom growls inside me as the weight of multitudes of stares descend upon us.
Maybe I’m just being paranoid in thinking people are looking at me as if I’m responsible, but they wouldn’t exactly be wrong in their thoughts. Odette’s sentenceismy fault, and the responsibility of her death should rest on my shoulders. If it wasn’t for my selfishness and ignorance in my youth, I would never have rejected Sila as my fated mate in favor for Catherine and therefore not needed Odette to sever my unintentional one-sided bond with the lioness. In return, Odette wouldn’t have been so disgusted with me that she felt I needed to suffer even more than I already did, and so she destroyed all but eight of my existing bonds for the crime of rejecting my mate.
She wiped out a lifetime of fraternal bonds, and the familial bonds I had with my parents and younger siblings were badly damaged. The only ones left relatively unscathed were the four blood bonds I held with Clan Novo—Sila, and her mates Nox, Bash, and Kane. Luckily for me, those four bonds kept me tethered enough to not fall into oblivion, although it was a close call. Their acceptance and support, along with the blood bonds I then formed with fellow lions Petra and Cyril, have been the cornerstones of my shaky control, and the reason I’m still alive.
Well, as alive as I can be, I guess.
I scrub my hands over my face, the thick beard covering most of my skin scratching coarsely over my palms. The stands are emptying of the crowds who’ve come to witness today’s trials and executions while a cleaning crew descends on the pit to take care of Odette’s remains. Once they’re done, it’ll be Icahn Koch’s turn, and he’ll be up against Nox. I’m both intrigued by and dreading that showdown. Nox is notorious in his hatred of other cat shifters, with few exceptions—Tál and I being among them. I stretch out my back and shoulders, hoping for some relief from the agitation suffusing the amphitheater when my attentionis jerked away from the bloodied mess being removed and over to Sila, who is spitting and snarling in fury.
“They should be on trial along with Odette and Koch. Stripping them of their lions hasn’t made a lick of difference in their toxic behavior or attitude, and Pounce is screaming at me to use Catherine as a sentient scratching post. Fucking slag is lucky I didn’t tear her sulky mouth from her face earlier.”
I twist around to see my ex-girlfriend Catherine L?nnberg, her father Brantley, and the third in their tainted threesome—former Leo Chadwick Corbin—leaving the guarded section they’d been seated in. I can understand Sila’s hatred of the trio, but the constant bombardment of her emotions toward them down our blood bond has made moving on from my own sins that much harder. It makes me doubt my own worthiness. Sila managed to find it in her heart to forgive me and include me as part of her extended family, and I can’t understand why she won’t just move on and leave Catherine, Brantley, and Chadwick behind her—where they belong.
My voice is as tired as my soul as I speak up, hoping to redirect her attention and emotions. “Sila, just leave Catherine be. No good can come of you continuing to dwell on her and her actions.”
I look up to see Sila, Bash, Kane, and Cyril all staring at me, open-mouthed in their shock.
“I… I beg your pardon? Did you just defend that cunt-nugget? What the fuck, Simon?”
I huff out a breath and run my hands through my hair, then stand. I stare down at the words inked over my knuckles, one representing my past, the other my future. I clench them into fists then release to ease my frustration, and lay it all on the line.
“I meant what I said earlier, Sila. I’ve wronged Catherine so many times, and it needs to stop. I blamed her for leading me astray and influencing me when it was my choice to listen to her instead of using my own fucking brain and common sense. I was raised with all the privileges my parents could afford, just as she was, but my parents also taught me how to be unselfish, how to put others before myself, and that there is a reward in serving others. Catherine was raised in luxury, her every indulgence and whim catered to, and was never told ‘No’ or made to face the consequences of her actions. She had the one stabilizing and responsible influence removed from her life and was instead actively encouraged to oppress and disparage those she considered as ‘less than.’ On the other hand, I had a family and Pride who loved and supported me but still instilled lessons about humility, responsibility, honesty, and compassion. Catherine is a direct result of her upbringing, and due to that you can’t hold her to the same standards as me.” I look up, somehow knowing what Sila is about to say, cutting her off before she can respond.
“Yes, she’s a grown-ass adult and needs to learn these lessons yesterday if she has any hope of becoming a better person. Yes, she can and should take responsibility for her actions and make amends for the pain and anguish she’s caused. But as someone recently told me”—I glance over to Sarai and smile sadly, remembering the painful but necessary words she imparted weeks ago—“you can’t force someone to behave the way you want them to. You can only accept their choice and move forward with your life. Stop trying to force Catherine to behave in a way that goes directly against her upbringing and accept that she has no desire to become someone other than who she is now. Stop giving her rent-free space in your head. You’re better than that. I’m living proof. Once you’ve done that, she will cease to matter to you.”
I don’t wait for Sila to call me out, or for Bash or Kane to beat the shit out of me for speaking to her in such a manner. I don’t look at them at all. Rather, I excuse myself and make my escape, hoping for some space and peace. Tál and I need it, because he’s raging inside me, furious at the possible setback of our progress thus far. He doesn’t want to go back to drowning in misery, anger, and regret.
I can’t really blame him for his anger and annoyance, as we’ve struggled for years to accept each other. The tension between us was literally tearing me apart inside, the pain and anger never ceasing. It’s only been recently that we’ve found a middle ground, where we both acknowledge how the other has hurt us, but also accept that we’re in this together and need to move in sync with each other, rather than pulling toward opposing poles. While my bonds with Cyril, Petra, and Clan Novo have held my head above water, it wasn’t until Cyril’s mates Sarai and Aodhán formed a blood bond with me that Tál and I have been able to actually feel as though we’re no longer floundering. Their acceptance and care lifted a weight from our entire being, and nothing about our bonds feels conditional or condescending. Not that Sila or her guys have ever made me to feel that way… that’s all on me and my guilt and self-loathing.
I wander aimlessly away from the amphitheater, letting my mind drift as I move away from the crowds. The discordant rabble of myriad conversations fades away until they’re a dull murmur in the background. The lingering smells of exhaust fumes and hot cement become stronger, slowly overpowering the tang of numerous combined scents congesting my nose. I relax as the pressure of so many eyes and opinions finally dissipates and I’m left alone with only Tálstrom for company.
The relief is short-lived, though, as snatches of hushed conversation reaches my ears. Drawing in a deep breath, a strange odor wafts past me, muddying the scents of the shifters I can hear around the front of the building.
A sense of urgency and caution pours from Tál, and I shuffle silently to the outer wall of the Shifter Council Headquarters, concealing my presence behind the clump of bushes separating the parking lot from the path toward the amphitheater. Tálstrom edges forward, sharpening my senses with his own, and I’m able to listen in on the hushed conversation being held a couple dozen yards away.
“I don’t know where the overgrown lizard is, but that stuck-up bitch is back there, along with all her sycophants. There’s a couple of new shifters with them, a girl and a guy. I overheard the girl is a fucking unicorn, but nobody seems to know what the guy is. He’s powerful, that’s for sure. Maybe even more powerful than that little bitch.”
Brantley L?nnberg’s voice is distinctive, his hatred and contempt for the subject of his ire easily discernible. That he’s speaking of Jaxon and Sila is obvious, but it’s his mention of Sarai and Aodhán that has my blood running cold.
“You told us that the dragon would be here. Our interest lies in him, as well as the girl who survived the rejection. The others are currently of no consequence. If you cannot give us the dragon or the snow leopard, then you are no longer any use to our organization.”
I shudder at the deadness in the tone of the speaker, his voice clipped as though even being here today is beneath him. Tál stills inside me, his hackles rising at the threat of danger this stranger poses to our friends.
“Hang on, wait a minute. You want Sila because of her broken mating bond, right?” Catherine’s voice is both pleading and eager, and a trickle of dread runs down my spine. I freeze, barely even breathing as the rest of her words condemn her to the deepest pits of Hell for her treachery.
“Simon Gatto is here as well. He was the one who rejected her in the first place, and then he had, like, almost a hundred bonds severed in one hit. He’s the reason why your swan shifter was shredded. You wanted Sila partly because of the way her broken bond impacted on her animal, right? Well, Simon and his lion have all that, and more.”
The breath stills in my throat at the contemplative silence following Catherine’s suggestion. A pain stabs through my heart at just how far she’s fallen, and I close my eyes against the tears rising up at her betrayal.
“Can you bring this shifter to us without fuss, Miss L?nnberg?” a second feminine voice queries, and I pray against all hope that Catherine won’t do it, that she’ll remember how things used to be between us and won’t completely obliterate the friendship we once shared. My prayers go unheeded, the audible sneer in Catherine’s reply a death knell for my hopes of her escaping her father’s toxicity.
“I’m sure I can lure him away from the others if given half a chance. The idiot thinks I need saving or some bullshit and will probably leap at the chance to lecture me about my so-called ‘poor decisions.’ I’ve no doubt he’ll even try to convert me to the loser lifestyle and spout the benefits of becoming a pathetic hobo like him.”
Tálstrom growls inside me, vibrating with the need to shift and destroy all those who would harm us or our chosen family. My own preference to keep the peace wavers in the face of such hatred and Tál surges forward to grab control, but it’s too late. A stinging pinch on my neck has me flinching, and my body suddenly becomes heavy and unwieldy. A hand grabs at the back of my neck, shoving me through the sharp, close branches of the bushes and into the parking lot.
“Look who I found lurking around the corner, eavesdropping on conversations that concern him,” Chadwick Corbin grinds out, kicking into the backs of my legs and forcing me to my knees, the sharp gravel cutting through my jeans and into my skin.
“This is the lion you spoke of, Miss L?nnberg?” The strange woman steps forward, and my thoughts struggle through the soupy haze of drugs to make sense of what I’m seeing.
She and another man are dressed as Council medics, a patient transport vehicle open and empty behind them. Catherine and Brantley stand to one side, close to the car they arrived in. The doors are open, and the engine is running, but it doesn’t make sense because they’re not supposed to leave until after Koch’s combat. Nothing makes any sense, and my alarm grows the more lethargic I become. The strength and support I’d normally draw from my bonds are absent, their threads sluggish and dim.
The petulance in Catherine’s tone grates against my nerves. “Yes, this is Simon Gatto. Now that you’ve got him, can we leave? I don’t want to be here, and it won’t be long before his nosy friends come looking for him and kick up a stink.”
The strange man in the medic’s uniform nods at the man behind me, and Chadwick slams his fist into the side of my head before shoving me to the ground. The explosion of pain and nausea that follows has me reeling, and I retch pathetically and whimper at the sensations coating my nerve endings. Tálstrom disappears behind an opaque wall, and his own fear and confusion feel muted and remote. My eyes reel in my head as I’m dragged into the patient transport and strapped to a gurney, and I struggle to make sense of what is happening.
Another prick in my neck thanks to the strange woman sends ice through my veins. The numbness spreads through my body and into my bonds, drowning them in cloying emptiness until they’re smothered and distant. It reminds me all over again of when Odette attacked my bonds, and I mentally flail at the idea of losing them all once more. That’s the last thought that rolls through my head as the doors to the transport slam shut, and the vehicle rocks as the man gets behind the wheel, starts the engine, and takes me away from everyone I know and love.
The ensuing darkness is a relief.