Chapter 9 #2
Ren’s hands shook as his mouth tried to form the words. They got stuck somewhere between his tongue and lips, refusing to take shape.
He didn’t realize how hard he was trembling until he felt a hand on his shoulder.
Ren took a long breath, feeling panic at the base of his throat, feeling tears of sadness or frustration he wasn’t sure, settling in the corners of his eyes.
But he knew he was going to have to say it—knew he was going to have to tell his story during this trial.
“I… I found out I was pregnant several weeks later,” he whispered. “I didn’t… I couldn’t… I?—”
“So, you were angry and decided killing them would be the best option?” Oren asked. His harsh words made Ren flinch so hard he took a step back.
“No,” he whispered, shaking his head. His mind raced as he tried to consider how to explain himself—he had practiced so many times, had gone over what needed to be said again and again.
“I… I didn’t really know what I was doing,” he said quickly.
“I… I found out and I needed… I needed to do something—I didn’t mean—I didn’t—I didn’t want to kill them, but at the time—in that moment—it felt like the only way I could get out of this?—”
“Falk and Doctor Bram told me about your denial that any of this happened, and your lack of empathy or even sympathy to this situation,” Oren interrupted him.
Ren’s eyes widened, his jaw dropping open, “What?—”
“During the last Blood Moon, an Alpha was found near death in your cell,” Oren continued, “and when we?—”
“He attacked me!” Ren yelled. Even if he didn’t remember the details, there was no way Ren would have been able to open the door. “I was defending myself, and I didn’t kill him?—”
Oren glanced over at Falk, and Ren wondered what he saw there that made the King sigh.
“Ren, I’ve determined that you shall continue your previous sentencing of life in prison”—Ren eyes widened, and a moment later he felt his knees hit the ground beneath him—“it is my determination you are too dangerous to have in our society, and you should?—”
“Please, no!” Ren screamed, cutting the King off.
Ren couldn’t breathe. The air he sucked in through his mouth refused to fill up his lungs.
His head spun. He had trusted Falk—he had actually trusted him.
He thought Falk knew something he didn’t, thought Falk could do something.
Why had he ever trusted an Alpha? Why had he ever believed someone could show him kindness? Why did he ever think?—
“Please take the prisoner?—”
“Please, no!” Ren yelled, curling in on himself. He wrapped his arms around his chest to hold himself together as he leaned forward on his knees until his forehead was pressed to the ground. “Please, I’ll do anything, please.”
“Warriors, take?—”
“Please!”
“Oren!” Ren was sobbing so hard he wasn’t sure if he imagined Falk speaking.
But then, he continued. “You spoke with Dr. Bram. You have heard all of my observations. You are well aware of Ren’s mental state.
Even if you do not want to set him free, do not put him back in the prison. He will die if he is left down there!”
“We cannot have some lunatic running around, Falk,” Oren said. “I understand he is not well, but that does not mean he can?—”
“Then we can lock him up in the infirmary,” Falk snapped. “He did perfectly well for the days we were guarding him there!”
“I was told he tried to throw himself out of a third floor window,” Oren said, eyebrow raising.
“He was on pain medications. He was in a daze. He didn’t?—”
“Falk,” Oren snapped, in a voice that made Falk stiffen. “I understand you have taken a liking to this Omega, but you have to understand how dangerous it would be to have him?—”
“He is willing to work. To do labor around the castle rather than be locked up,” Falk said quickly. “He could help the other Omegas or?—”
“Falk,” Oren growled loud enough to make Ren whimper, toes curling.
“It is too dangerous. Even if he was locked up in the infirmary or somewhere else in the castle, there is nowhere safer for us to keep criminals besides in the prison. I do not have someone who could guard him 24/7 if he was allowed up here. Even you need to sleep, Warrior Falk.”
Ren managed to turn his head enough to glance up at Falk and sucked in a sharp breath at the look on his face. He had never seen Falk so angry—his ears a hot red from the rage boiling underneath his skin. His lips were pulled back in a near snarl as he glared at their King.
Falk took a deep breath before his body straightened up to a more polite, Warrior posture and raised his hand.
“Your Majesty,” Falk said through gritted teeth, voice flat and calm. “I would like to take responsibility for this prisoner.”
Ren sat back up on his knees, staring up at Falk.
He wasn’t entirely sure what the words meant, but Oren seemed startled by them as he reeled back in his seat, mouth opening unconsciously.
“No, Falk”—Oren shook his head—“You can’t?—”
“It is within every Wolf’s right to take responsibility for a prisoner they believe has been wrongfully convicted,” Falk said, words short.
“What?” Ren whispered, voice breaking slightly on the word. He glanced back and forth between Oren and Falk as they glared at each other. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” Oren sighed, rubbing at his temples. “Falk would be… responsible for you in every way—something similar to a guardian—but also if you were to ever commit another crime, he would go to prison alongside you.”
“All Wolves have this right,” Falk reminded him.
“Yes, but the King still has to approve of it,” Oren snapped. “And I still argue he is too dangerous—Falk, he will kill you in your sleep and make a run for it. I do not know why you trust this Omega, or why you are doing all this for him.”
Falk crossed his arms over his chest, jaw tight, lips unmoving.
“I am rejecting?—”
“Oren,” Falk growled.
Oren looked ready to growl right back, but groaned and rubbed a hand over his face instead. “There would have to be a lot of stipulations in place,” he said slowly. “Ren would not be allowed to leave your side. Not even when you are attending to your own duties.”
“Done,” Falk nodded.
“He should also work to give back to this kingdom,” Oren added. “As you said, he has skills that are useful around here. He will work for us without any pay for the rest of his life as he will be working off the time he was supposed to spend in prison.”
“Done,” Falk repeated.
The two Alphas just stared at each other for a long time, having a silent conversation Ren wasn’t invited to hear before Oren muttered, “We will have another discussion about all this later, Warrior Falk.”
“Of course,” Falk ground out.
Ren didn’t know what they were talking about. His head was pounding. His stomach was still knotted painfully, and he had been on the edge of throwing up for the last minute. But some of that stress fell off of his shoulders as Falk’s hand came to rest on his back.
“Let me help you up,” he murmured, so quiet, so soft and sweet. He was Ren’s Falk again.
When Falk helped him to his feet, Ren wobbled slightly, his hands still chained in front of him, unhelpful when it came to balancing himself.
He froze when he felt a hand on his hip, steadying him.
The feeling of Falk’s arm wrapped around his waist was somehow so foreign yet also correct.
Ren could tuck himself into the crook of Falk’s elbow and stay there forever—he fit perfectly.
“Where are we going?” Ren whispered as Falk turned him away. Ren flinched when he remembered the Alpha standing on his other side; Ren had forgotten him entirely.
Falk’s touch felt so strange on his waist. Ren still felt like they should be separated by metal bars. How strange it was that he could reach out and touch Falk now.
Falk gave him a small smile, looking tired as he said, “Up to my rooms.”
Ren’s heart seemed to skip a beat. “Your rooms?” he echoed.
Falk paused, smile growing bigger as he shrugged, “I guess they’ll be yours now too.”
“I’m not going back to the prison?” Ren whispered.
Falk shook his head, “Never again.” Ren swallowed hard, the tears threatening to spill began to fall. “I told you to trust me.”
Ren nodded furiously. “I do,” he murmured. “I do trust you.” And, for once, he found he wasn’t lying.