The forest hadn’t attacked again. Where their magic had been shallow and faint, mine was a deep, potent lake. It must’ve been quite a shock. If they tried something during the night, I’d know instantly.
The door swung open. Curran walked out onto the balcony and leaned on the rail next to me.
“Hey, baby.”
“Hey.”
We looked at the woods. Tomorrow would suck.
I sent a pulse of magic through the glyphs drawn in the corners of the balcony floor and our room. A soundproof ward surged up.
“Look at that. I’m trapped,” Curran said. Gold sparked in his gray eyes and vanished.
I dragged my mind out of the bedroom and back to the balcony. I’d been putting off this conversation for a long time. We had to have it.
“We need to talk, and I don’t want anyone to overhear,” I said.
“Never a good opening.”
“I claimed a town after I swore up and down that I would never do it again. And when we root out whatever is in the woods and find a good site for our new Keep, I will claim that as well.”
He nodded.
“You swore to never lead another pack. When Mahon came to you three years ago asking you to restart the Pack out of Jim’s territory, you told him that Hell would freeze over first.”
“True. I said that.”
“I have my reasons. You have yours. Let’s share.”
“On three?” he asked.
“One, two…”
“Conlan,” we said at the same time.
Right. “I’ll go first. You left the Pack because of me. Both because you knew I didn’t like it and because my father forced us against a wall. It worked for a while in Atlanta, because we lived in a village inside the city where everyone was friend or family. I thought people would get over my claiming the city and Roland invading, but they didn’t. Staying in Atlanta became more and more difficult. Again, that’s on me. My presence created that problem.”
“That’s not the way I look at it but keep going.”
“We decided to live in Wilmington, and we ended up in the exact situation that led to the deaths of your parents and sister. We are isolated and vulnerable. If Keelan and the Wilmington pack weren’t there, that fight with the Red Horn would’ve been a lot harder. As you said, Ned was able to walk right up to our door, and Conlan opened it for him. If Ned had been an enemy with power, our son could be dead right now. You built the Pack so when you had a family, it would be protected. I took that away from you and put you back into a place you worked so hard to avoid. I’m sorry. This isn’t what I wanted. Making you deal with the possibility that history might repeat itself isn’t what I wanted. I never meant to hurt you.”
An uncompromising harshness claimed Curran’s face. His eyes turned hard. An air of authority and a controlled, tightly coiled menace emanated from him, his presence expanding to take over the entire balcony.
The Beast Lord.
He never stopped being one. He just let him sink below the surface of an easy-going husband and father the way I had hidden my psycho killer inside my soul for the last seven years. Now the Beast Lord was out and in control, not because he was trying to intimidate anyone, but because I had brought up the moment his childhood had died.
“What I’m trying to say is that I was wrong,” I said. “I’ve tried for normal, but normal isn’t in the cards. Whether we live a quiet life or a loud one, someone will come for us either for help or for a fight. You and I and everything we can do isn’t enough to keep our son safe. We need others.”
“We had two obvious choices,” Curran said. “To raise our son in a pack, where he would be a prince and treated like one, or to raise him on our own, forging him into an exceptional fighter much faster than would be good for him. I understand why you reject both. The first way is what your father had done to his children. They all died. The second was what Voron did to you and it was cruel.”
When put that way, it did seem obvious.
“We tried a third way,” Curran said.
“And we did our best. But it’s not enough. I realized that when he killed that wereboar.”
“How did you find out?”
“Every time he saw the skull, he smiled at it. That’s why I asked you to take it down.”
“I didn’t tell you because you had enough on your plate that night,” the Beast Lord said. “I meant to talk about it later.”
“I know. I understand why you didn’t.”
Because talking about it would be shining a light on how close we came to ending up in the exact same situation as his parents.
“Conlan has too much of me and you in him to live a calm life where he doesn’t take risks or face threats.”
“Have you come to a decision?”
“Yes. Tomorrow I will accept Rimush and Jushur’s pledges and I will use them to the best of their ability. I’m going to accelerate Conlan’s training. When we develop a stable base, I will bring in vampires and train him to work with them. I’ve decided to embrace who I am. The violence, the blood magic, all of it. For Conlan’s sake but also for my own.”
He didn’t say anything.
“I want to bring Conlan with us tomorrow. We will be fighting for what might become our permanent home. I want him to be a part of it.”
No response.
“If you have any objections to any of this, tell me now. Please.”
The Beast Lord squared his broad shoulders, his face grim.
“I didn’t leave the Pack because of you. I left because I wanted to. The Pack as it exists now was never my vision. I was a damaged fifteen-year-old kid who shouldn’t have been in charge of anything, let alone other people. When I went to fight Andorf, you know what was going through my head? A part of me wanted a challenge, but a bigger part thought, ‘Oh, shit. If I don’t do this, Mahon might kick me out and I’ll be on my own again, alone and starving.’”
Oh no. “He wouldn’t have.”
“Now that I’m an adult, I know that. Back then, I didn’t.”
If Mahon ever realized that, it would crush him. He thought of Curran as his son. He was so proud of him, Beast Lord or not.
“I was given a framework and I implemented it. It put me at the top of the pyramid. Women fell over themselves to date me. When I entered a room, people looked at their feet to acknowledge my power. If I wanted something, it was brought to me. But none of that really mattered. It was safe.”
But it wasn’t. Not really.
“I never got off on adoration or bowing. To me, every shapeshifter who bowed his head was one more person I could’ve brought with me to fight the loups who killed my family. I had a mental count in my head: how many people would be enough? At first, Mahon and his bears were enough, but soon I needed more. I needed the clans. Then I needed a specialized fighting force, so I made the renders. It still wasn’t enough, so I established a security department that would give me advance warnings when a threat was coming, and I put the smartest, the most paranoid, the most meticulous man I knew in charge of it. I hoarded fighters the way some people hoard gold. And I did it without realizing it. I didn’t gain this clarity until I left.”
I shook my head. “How could you? If you had taken a second to try and get some clarity, Barabas would have put another piece of paper in front of you to sign. I remember days when we didn’t have time to breathe. There was always another administrative issue, or conflict to adjudicate, or threat to the Pack we needed to kill. No matter what happened, it came back to us. We had to take care of it, and you had done it by yourself for years.”
“It was a contract,” Curran said. “The Pack would give their lives to protect me, but I had to protect them in turn. It hit me somewhere in my early twenties—I was responsible for every shapeshifter under my command. Every single one.”