WITH NICO SEARCHING FOR MITH, Rian found himself in need of a distraction.
He teamed up with Kane when he arrived, barely having their greetings out of the way when Rian suggested a vampire hunt. The two of them took out the nest alone and Rian thought there would never be a day where he didn't get pleasure out of ripping bloodsuckers apart.
He'd been surprised when Conan hadn't wanted to join them, but then the Enforcer had followed up with 'Where's Aerilyn?' And with the crazed look in his eye—the tightness of his voice—Rian realised: she's got a thing for Enforcers then.
It took days to clear out the nest. Days of torture and questions. Rian concluded that they didn't do a terrible job considering it wasn't either of the Alpha's speciality, but he'd seen Nico do it enough times to pick up a few tricks.
When he returned home and found you no longer breathing and Conan stinking of your blood, his stomach plummeted. Rian shared a hardened look with Kane, speaking without words—this was the beginning of the end of their alliance. Nico would see to that.
And Rian wouldn't stop him.
--
They placed your body in the medical hut and covered it with a white sheet because even Rian found it hard to look at you—bruised, beaten and battered with more blood on your skin than in your veins.
"We'll come to some kind of agreement," Kane was saying, standing by the door in the waiting room with his arms folded over his chest. White hairs trailed from his pecks to his stomach.
Rian sat opposite him, elbows on his knees and chin resting on his hands. "If you think Nico will let him live, you're a fool."
"He's my Enforcer. He's too valuable to my pack," Kane said in that calm way of his. He was never one to lose his temper or cool. Rian had once heard a story he'd stared a death reaper in the eyes and didn't so much as blink.
Rian's eyes lifted from the window to the Alpha. "Your Enforcer acted without orders. He's on my land. He killed one of my people." He stood, fists clenching. If there was ever a reason to go to war, it was for this. "He tortured her to death. She was Nico's intended." His heart—or what was left of it—squeezed as if trapped in his wolf's jaws. He knew the pain his brother was going to face well. "She may have been in questioning. She may have even been guilty. But she was a member of my pack. He didn't have permission to act as he did. Conan overstepped. . .and he's going to pay the price."
Kane nodded. "I understand your stance. I do. But you must understand mine, too."
"I do." Had Nico done the same, Rian would have fought for his life. No doubt about that. "But Conan won't be leaving those cells. Nico will decide what to do with him." When he returns. Where the fuck are you, brother? "I suspect he'll already be dead by the time you come back with more people. Should you attack anyway, all I ask is you spare our women and children." If you even manage to get passed the first perimeter.
Kane's jaw ticked, but otherwise remained emotionless. "I'll speak with Aerilyn, and see if she's ready to return home. And then I'll be out of your way. For now." With that, he left.
Rian sagged back down into his chair and covered his face.
--
Nico dropped the duffle bag from his jaw and shifted. Forcing the front door open, he let Mithun go first before following behind him and placing the bag inside.
The Enforcer threw on a pair of trousers and clutched the journal to his chest. Mith ran down the steps from his bedroom, now clothed. He headed towards the door only for Nico to stop him.
"Let me take it from here," Nico said, hand on his shoulder. "I've got this, pup. Go rest." He knew the power naps had barely been enough to keep him going. Even Nico was starting to feel dead on his feet, running on sheer determination at this point.
Mith hesitated but nodded anyway. "Ok. You bring her home."
There was a twist in his belly. Something was wrong. He'd felt it the second they'd entered the land. "You know it," he said weaker than he'd have liked. Placing a hard kiss on Mith's head, he walked out and made his way to the caves.
When he arrived, Rian was already walking towards him. He met him by the opening and Nico thrust the book into his brother's hands.
"Nico-"
Nico didn't like that tone—didn't want to know what Rian was going to say. Not with that void in his gut, empty and heavy and pained.
So, he interrupted him, voice tight. "Read it. It's her journal. Me and Mithun brought it back. It backs up her story."
Rian took it delicately. He didn't open it, only hung his head and sighed. "Nico. You should sit-"
"I'm gonna go get her," his voice broke, heart beating like a hummingbird. "Ok? I'm taking her home. We'll figure out the rest later." He turned to leave, eyes stinging.
"Nico, she's gone."
Nico froze with his back to his brother.
He knew it but had wanted to get away before Rian confirmed it.
He knew it from the moment he got back. Something wasn't right. The air felt wrong. The land lacked beauty. It was as if he was seeing in black and white. Like someone had plucked the petals from every flower.
He'd felt this once before. When Aerilyn came back that day without Mithun by her side. He'd know he was gone before the words had left her mouth— before she'd broken down and cried on her knees in front of him in the middle of the field.
"How?" he didn't turn around.
"I wasn't here. I would never have allowed it."
"How!" Nico roared, spinning on his heels. His eyes were red-rimmed, chest heaving. A crazed, shell of a broken man.
Rian pursed his lips. "Conan. He's in the cells."
Nico choked on a breath. "He—he hurt her?" His hands shook and his lips trembled.
He couldn't bare to see his brother in so much pain and looked away—it hit too close to home. "Yes. I'm sorry, Nico."
Nico felt hot. Clammy. Was the room spinning? He stumbled. "Where the fuck were you?"
Rian swallowed, heavy with guilt. "I went with Kane to take out the vamps nest. That was my mistake. I shouldn't have let him stay. Or I—I shouldn't have left until you returned. But, Nico," his eyebrows pinched. "I thought you'd be back in a few hours. Not days."
"We had to get her journals." His voice didn't feel like his own. Did you take that with you when you passed? His heart and his voice? The colour of the world and everything beautiful? He felt numb. "She—she died for something she didn't do. She died thinking I was angry with her for it. That I didn't believe her. I fucking—I fucking made her bleed. The last time she saw me, I was hurting her." His hands found his knees and he thought he was gonna puke. "What the fuck do I do now?"
"We tell Mithun. We be there for him." Rian winched at how his nephew was going to take the news. This wasn't going to be easy on anyone involved. "As for Conan, you do whatever you want with him." It may start a war, but it was Nico's right to make that decision. Rian wouldn't take that away from him, too.
"Tell Mith. . ." Fuck. His kid was going to hate him. And he deserved every ounce of that hate. Nico's chest heaves and he begins to see black spots. He shook his head.
Rian stepped towards him, concern twisting his features. "Nico, you need to breathe properly."
"I am fucki-" the words slurred and then it was lights out.
--
They laid you to rest a day later.
Nico wanted to see you one last time but Rian wouldn't let him. The look on his brother's face made him realise just how bad your injuries were and he spent six hours using Conan as a punching bag.
There was a hole in his chest the shape of you. Hollow and empty, he wondered if this is what death felt like before backtracking on that thought. He couldn't bare the idea of you suffering like this in the afterlife, not when you'd been through so much as it is.
Nico dug your grave himself and refused help from anyone other than Mith, who showed up when he was halfway done. His pup looked completely destroyed. Dirty clothes. Messy hair. Eyes haunted and tired in a way no child should experience.
They laid flowers around your final resting place. A blanket of them. You would have loved them, and it twisted at him how you weren't here to see it.
It was a small gathering of people. Him. Mithun. Rian. Gorhan. The lady shifter who you'd had tea with a handful of times. The Hay-Layer who you waved to every morning. The pup who swung by to help you feed your animals occasionally.
His parents hadn't been able to make it. The journey would take too long, and shifter lore said the longer you waited, the higher the risk of a soul getting lost on the way to the afterlife.
After a long, heavy moment of silent mourning, Nico squeezed Mithun's hand and stepped forward. His eyes stung, locking onto your sheet-covered figure laying on top of a hand-carved wooden resting place.
He opened his mouth. Paused. Found it hard to breathe let alone speak words. Nico cleared his throat and hoped they'd come to him. He should have written it down—memorised what he wanted to say but every time he tried, the only change to the paper was his teardrops.
"I-I don't know where to start." His throat constricted and he thought there was no way he was going to make it through this. "There are no words for the kind of person Bambi is—was." He corrected himself and fuck if that didn't hurt. "She risked everything to take in my son. To protect him from her people. She raised him to be kind, strong, funny. . .Thoughtful. Giving. A reflection of herself. He's her in every way other than looks."
Breathing deep, he tried to steady himself. The world felt tilted and he knew that's because you were no longer in it. "She gave me my son back. . .and so much more. She gave me a family." His tears ran hot and he didn't bother wiping them away.
A hand found his and he looked down to find Mithun next to him in quiet support. Suddenly, he felt a bit stronger with your son at his side.
He continued hoarsely, "For what she gave me, she deserved so much better. I. . .I failed her. And I'll live with that weight on my shoulders until the day I'm lucky enough to join her."
Forgive me, bambi, he mouthed, not strong enough to say them. A coward. His eyes found the flowery ground in front of his feet and he took a second to compose himself. All he had to do now was grab a handful of those flowers and lay them on your body, and then he could march to the cells and take his anger—his unspeakable sadness and grief and pain—out on the shifter who stole you from him.
He wondered if there would ever be a day he'd let Conan die. Nico couldn't see it happening personally. He let him heal and then tortured him to the brink of death over and over again. It was kind of handy actually—testing out new methods. A messy, creative outlet. Conan's body was his canvas and Nico suddenly had a morbid interest in art. But instead of brushes and pencils, he used knives and fists.
A collective gasp sounded and Nico was worried he'd said it out loud. But then Mith stepped forward, tugging his hand with it, and his small, shaky voice filtered through his ears.
"M-Mom?"
Nico's eyes flew up, his heart stopping when he found you sitting up, the sheet clutched to your chest and your face as fresh as the mornings when you'd wander downstairs and offer him tea.
But three things were very, very wrong:
The look in your eyes wasn't warm and welcoming. It was curious. Amused. Arrogant, in a way which wasn't you at all.
Your smell was different. Spicy. Sharp. Only moments ago it was familiar. Floral. Rain. Leaves and grass with the underlining stench of death tainting it.
But the thing which bothered him the most -
Your heart wasn't beating.