Chapter 21 Backstory
backstory
BELL
“Well, that’s just criminal,” Zion declared. “She’s overworked the batter. Anyone can see that.”
I’d chosen television. Then scooted as far as I could into the arm of the two-seater couch while Zion pulled up a re-run of Britain’s Got Bakers from at least ten seasons ago—back before the two co-hosts, Suzie Brighton and Nigel Fleming, had shocked the world with the reveal of their torrid love affair, which had produced a child they’d named Dyana.
On screen, Suzie was comforting a woman whose Victoria sponge had collapsed, but Zion didn’t appear to have much sympathy for her. “This is why you must fold gently. Respect the chemistry.”
I found myself smiling, despite the anxious buzzing under my skin at his nearness. “You bake?”
“Ursa, no. I’m atrocious in the kitchen. But I appreciate the craft.” He gestured at the screen, where a man was piping perfect rosettes onto a cake. “Look at that technique. Consistent pressure, elegant execution. It’s rather like conducting an orchestra, truly. But no…”
He looked over at me with a wry smile. “Ravik does all the baking in our maul. And all the cooking. Which was why he was so incredibly pleased to receive those sugar cookies from you—before your row.”
Row…
I cringed.
“So he told you about that?” I asked.
“Not so much told…” Zion muted the commercial but didn’t take his eyes off the television as he carefully answered. “He was highly upset. Boone was in range—he felt and saw everything through their bond. Then Boone relayed Ravik’s upset to me.”
“Upset?” I thought back to Ravik’s stone-cold face as he basically told me I had to accept an overnight sentry, and my feelings didn’t matter because he was the first maul. “He didn’t act highly upset.”
“No, he wouldn’t have appeared that way, I suppose.” Zion’s voice took on a note of consideration. “Ravik isn’t adept at conveying emotion, an inability he unfortunately passed on to our maul son, Takoda. But believe me, Bell...”
Zion tipped his chin down to tell me, “He was not unaffected by your words. He cares, even when it appears he does not. Though I do realize that I’m saying this from the point of view of someone who’s had him inside my head for over three decades.
I imagine it cannot be easy to talk with him without access to his inner world. ”
Zion’s tone was so empathetic, I wasn’t sure if he was feeling sorry for me or Ravik.
Which made me ask, “So you were inside his head when you two were in a maul with your late wife? Boone’s brother’s, too?”
“No, I never exchanged bites with Erik.” Zion’s face tightened, and a shadow crossed over it. “Our relationship was... fraught.”
I waited, not wanting to seem too eager to get the backstory on that statement, but seriously really wanting to hear the backstory on that statement.
Luckily, Zion seemed to be in the mood to talk. It all came spilling out, with only occasional breaks to unmute the TV for the BGB big reveals.
How Ravik and Zion had actually picked Boone to be their third from the start because he was strong, stable, everything Niska needed in a third.
But then, in a dastardly twist, Boone’s older brother Erik bit Niska—without her consent.
However, it didn’t feel like as much of a crime as what Niska did to Zion because she preferred Erik.
“Why?” I couldn’t even comprehend her thinking. “Boone’s so nice… and gentle. Who wouldn’t pick him?”
Zion tilted his head. “That’s… ah… not how most would describe Boone. I believe you’re getting a different version of him than 99.9% of the people who encounter him do. He’s got a reputation for being a bit of a misanthrope.”
My vocabulary was nowhere near as extensive as Zion’s, but I thought I knew what that word meant. Except it couldn’t be right.
“Are you trying to say Boone’s a grump?” I asked, certain I must be misunderstanding him. “And that your late wife chose his brother because he was the nicer guy?”
“No, not nicer.” Zion glowered to the side.
“Erik did a much better job of presenting himself to Niska as someone fun and exciting. She fell for that act only to find, once we were mauled with him, that Erik was hiding significant demons. Alcoholism, primarily. She hoped that bearing his son would be enough to right his ship. That the maul bond would stabilize him.”
“It wasn’t,” I guessed, thinking of how I’d hoped Noelle’s birth would bring about a sea change in Dennis’s personality. “His behavior only got worse after he was anchored into the maul by a baby.”
“Correct.” Zion’s warm, resonant voice had grown much cooler. “Erik was a functional alcoholic at first. He could hold down his job as head of Bear Mountain Construction, maintain appearances. But within five years he was no longer ‘fun.’”
Zion put that last word in finger quotes.
“Often, he came home drunk and belligerent. And he spent more mornings hungover in bed than at work, relying on being the Tuk’Mara’s third maul not to be removed from his post. We tried interventions.
Talking to him. Niska even lowered herself to begging Erik to change for the good of our family.
Nothing worked. Except divorce. Which in the Tuk’Mara’s case is basically exile. ”
“What was her breaking point?” I asked, so curious about the complicated woman who’d been in a relationship with both Zion and Ravik when she passed up the opportunity to be with Boone, too.
“It was actually my breaking point, after what was supposed to be a romantic birthday trip to Vancouver. Niska had planned an entire weekend—just the four of us, away from Bear Mountain for once. Erik promised he’d stay sober.
” Zion released a bitter chuff. “He made it one day. One single day. Then he slipped out while we were all sleeping in the hotel and found some seedy bar, behind which he somehow decided it would be a good idea to engage in a fight with a group of human thugs.”
Zion shook his head, a disgruntled look taking over his expression.
“He transformed in the alley behind the bar. Full shift, in the middle of Vancouver. Someone called it in as a bear attack.” Zion’s voice went flat.
“We had to cut the trip short, give up our tickets to the production of Chrysanthemum we were meant to see that night. Mind you, this was when Sirena Gale was still traveling with the role.”
“Oh, no, I would have been pissed, too!”
I’d never been able to afford tickets to the modern opera. But I loved the original Chrysanthemum cast album, and I’d listened to the finale song about overcoming on repeat after my divorce.
“Ravik had to call in favors with the RCMP while Erik snored, passed out in the back seat of our minivan on the way home,” Zion continued. “That was when I decided to leave. Because I realized they’d always choose to enable him.”
“How long were you gone?” I asked, too caught up in the story to pretend I wasn’t fully invested.
“For a week that felt like a year,” Zion answered, his tone turning wry.
“For mauls, time apart is... physically painful. But I couldn’t be near Erik anymore.
Couldn’t stand Niska making excuses for him or Ravik trying to control the uncontrollable.
I went back to Toronto, where I’d been attending med school before Niska bit me and tracked down my prior girlfriend.
I suppose I thought I could restart the life that got upended when Niska set me on the path to becoming a teacher. ”
His voice dropped, heavy with old regret. “I slept with another woman, and as soon as the sun rose, I knew I’d done the wrong thing. It didn’t matter how I’d been brought into the maul, I couldn’t abandon my family. I belonged with them.”
My chest squeezed at his confession. He was obviously carrying so much guilt and shame—the weight of a betrayal that still mattered to him decades later. But I didn’t know what to make of it. Even though he’d been one of three husbands, he felt like he’d cheated on his wife.
Mauls weren’t just a trendy version of polycules, I realized then. They were something deeper. More binding… Sacred.
I couldn’t even imagine being a part of something so intimate and close—or why they would want me, of all people, to be.
“I came home,” Zion continued, drawing my attention back to him. “Ravik and I had a heart-to-heart—just the two of us. Then he went to Niska and declared, as her first maul, that she’d have to divorce Erik to restore peace to our family.”
“So, he’s pulled this first maul card before,” I said quietly, more to myself than to Zion.
“He didn’t pull a card, Bell. He forced her to choose between Erik and the two of us,” Zion corrected. “Between saving one person who did not wish to change his behavior or saving our family.”
Zion turned to fully face me, spreading his arm across the couch’s back. It was so long, it nearly reached me.
“She chose us. Exiled Erik. But it took her years to forgive Ravik for forcing her hand. Two years of complete silent treatment. She kept their bond on mute and wouldn’t let her first maul back into her head or her bed.”
On the mute screen, the Britain’s Got Bakers contestant who was being sent home wiped his eyes as he gave his tearful final interview.
“Peace was restored for the rest of the maul with Erik gone,” Zion said quietly. “But Ravik paid the greatest price.”
Again, I wasn’t sure how to respond.
I didn’t want to feel sympathy for Ravik. Didn’t want my anger to soften. But I couldn’t help but compare him to Dennis, who wouldn’t have gone to bat for anyone but himself. He never would have let me get away with giving him the silent treatment for two hours, much less two years.
“And you’re just... okay with being in each other’s heads all the time?” I asked, needing to shift the conversation.
Zion considered my question, his head tilting in that professorial way. “It’s odd at first. Rather like having a radio playing in the background that you can’t quite turn off. But then you adjust to the frequency. Get used to it. Boone is…”