He shrugged. “We could wait until Cullen gets here but I don’t think we need him.”
Tristan pointed to the window. “Parker, step over there.”
Angel grabbed his arm. “What are you doing?”
Parker looked down at her. He could feel her heart beating in fear and loved her for caring that much. “What Tristan told me to do.”
“Why?” Her fingers dug into his arm. “Have we decided we trust him? He could be plotting something bad.”
“I brought you here for them to help you, which they did. I trusted them to care for you even as I was locked up. That was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” He swallowed, almost unable to talk about what those days had been like even as he knew they were now over. “Walking to the window so I can see if Tristan can fix my voice, that’s easy.”
“Easy for you, maybe. But I’m terrified he’s going to kill you.”
He nodded to her. There wasn’t really much to say. He’d feel the same way if their positions were reversed. In fact that had been exactly how he’d felt when he’d had to hand her over. This place—Westervelt—he’d heard they killed a witch here. He’d been here as a child when it had imploded and his father had destroyed his mother. There was no doubt it was a troubled, difficult existence here.
But there was something else too. Something that called to him inside his core where he hadn’t known the need for pack existed. His very basic self felt secure here, felt needed here, felt like he belonged.
He moved slowly to the wall, feeling every step he took like his feet weighed a ton.
Something momentous was about to happen and even as his mind was too clouded to really handle it his mind was well aware of the magnitude.
It had been over three decades since he’d uttered a word.
Tristan smiled. “When children start out in their training here, there is a period of time when they are the most volatile. Their wolves are, for lack of a better description because of the chaos involved in it, waking up. Sometimes things can slip out, things that people outside of Westervelt cannot learn.”
Angel stormed by Tristan until she stood shoulder-to-shoulder. “That seems ridiculous. How likely is it that a person could find out? This is an island in the middle of nowhere.”
“We used to go away more than we do now. We all had off-island jobs. We maintained appearances. Jack Liberty owned a brewery. He had concerns his son might lose it one day in public during the change. I wasn’t there for the discussion—Dad didn’t run a democracy—but I can guarantee that Cullen Murphy would have given your parents two options.”
“In case he can’t hear, ask him what options.” Parker couldn’t believe how fast his heart beat now or the shivers running up his spine. All of this made sense. All of it felt correct.
A tear ran down Angel’s face and he was relieved to see she understood how huge this was for him. “He wants to know what the options were.”
“Cullen would have told your parents that they could island-bind you, meaning it would be a good two to five years before you would be allowed to leave Westervelt.
Your wolf would have to fully present itself before you’d be given the go ahead leave.”
Tristan cleared his throat. “Or one the women, probably your mother, would have placed a small spell on you. We almost all had it done at one point. The spell doesn’t allow the person for whom it is enacted to discuss anything to do with Westervelt at all. It physically stops your vocal cords from forming any words about it.”
Angel shook her head. “No, that doesn’t make sense. Parker can’t talk at all.”
“Emotions help to govern spells, or at least that is what my very talented mate tells me. I have no ability to perform magic, not really.”
Parker highly doubted that. The man had physical connection to his entire pack and held a wolf in his eyes at all time. He would place money on the idea that he was plenty magical. But he wasn’t going to argue about it.
Tristan wasn’t done. “You saw a trauma, I assume. I don’t know. I’m ashamed to say that given everything that happened that day, to all of us, I don’t know everyone’s personal story. I know you went missing and were presumed dead. I don’t know who cleaned up this house, who disposed of the bodies—“
Parker held up his hand and Tristan stopped speaking. They weren’t bodies to Parker. They never would be. They would always be these bright, vibrant lights that were snuffed out too soon in a wave of violence he’d never understand, no matter how many times it was explained to him.
Tristan nodded his understanding. “I think your spell went awry and with your permission I’d like to remove it right now.”
Angel grabbed Tristan’s arm. “What will removing it do to him?”
Tristan glanced down at her fingers and Parker wondered if anyone else would ever have the gumption that Angel did to simply touch this man without so much as a by your leave.
“It will let him talk.”
Angel stomped her foot. “Nothing is ever that simple.”
“In this case it is.” Tristan regarded her silently for a second. “The resemblance is uncanny.”
Angel groaned. “Yes, I know. I saw her. I look just like our mother.”
“No, I think you look like Kendrick. You have his eyes.”
As she dropped his arm, Parker witnessed one second of horror cross his mate’s face before she hid her emotions again. Now he really didn’t care one bit if he ever spoke again. He was not going to have his mate hurt in anyway.
“Tell him we’re leaving.”
“No.” Angel shook her head. “I’m okay. Do it. He knows what he’s doing.”
“I didn’t mean that to be insulting. It’s just I haven’t seen his eyes in decades and even before that they were never as steady or calm as yours are, Angel. If it means anything, I look just like him too.”
“Fix Parker. I really don’t give a damn who I look like.”
Tristan stepped forward until he stood right in front of Parker. Perhaps it was an overactive imagination, but Parker felt like he could hear hundreds of voices speaking in his head for a second before they silenced. What was that? He shook his head with no time to worry.
Tristan raised his hand, placing it in front of Parker’s face. “I release you of your burden. I give you back your voice.”
Parker gasped. His throat felt like it was on fire, like a million needles had been released to scrape and poke on the inside of his mouth. He fell to the floor as he tried to endure the pain. Angel’s small hands grabbed his back. She spoke soothing words but he couldn’t hear them.
“Give him a minute.”
Tristan’s voice felt like honey to his mind but it wasn’t only Tristan he could hear.
The hundred or more voices he’d thought he’d imagined minutes earlier were back but now they were distinct. They were clear. They were…pack.
Parker bounded to his feet as he pulled Angel to his side. He kissed her and pulled her off the ground to dance in a circle with her.
“Parker?”
“Oh Angel.” His voice sounded hoarse but it worked. “I can hear them. All of them.”
She shook her head. “Who? Who can you hear?”
Tristan answered for him. “Pack. He hears the pack.”
Angel gasped, pulling out of Parker’s arms. “You made him pack?”
“He always was. He was born to be.” Tristan took a step toward her. “As were you, baby sister.”
“I don’t want to be your pack. I don’t want to be anyone’s pack. I just want Parker.”