Pride (Shifters #3)(70)

And that’s when the bitter truth sank in. If Malone tried to have Kaci executed, he wouldn’t be able to use her in his plot to take over the council. He was such a selfish bastard, and that time I couldn’t even argue with him, because by all appearances, he was giving me what I wanted. Sparing the tabby’s life.
“I think there’s something important to keep in mind here, Faythe,” my father said, but when I looked up at him, I found him facing the room in general, clearly directing his comment to everyone, though he’d addressed it to me. “Kaci has been through something horrible. Something truly unfathomable. And she’s had to do some terrible things to survive. But she has survived. She’s made it on her own, traveling several hundred miles across multiple geographical boundaries, with no idea that she could Shift back and ask someone for help. She fed herself, sheltered herself and protected herself under circumstances many grown toms would have found daunting. Kaci is strong. She’s a survivor. She’s just the kind of tabby we need, and I think with Faythe’s help we can get her through this.”
Wow. The positive spin he’d put on that one would have made a ballerina dizzy. And he’d managed to work my usefulness into it to boot. Damn, he’s good.
Heads nodded all around the table. The only Alpha who didn’t look pleased was Malone, who’d probably been planning to handle Kaci’s adjustment personally…
My father pushed his chair back and stood. “We can decide how to handle all this—and what to do with Kaci—later today. For now, I suggest everyone try to salvage what’s left of the night.” He turned to me. “That means go back to sleep.”
I nodded and was already headed for the door with Jace when Malone called me back.
“Faythe…” I turned to face him, and the look on his face sent alarm tingling through me. “The tribunal will meet one last time while the enforcers clean out Radley’s ‘Pride.’ We expect to have a verdict by the time they get back.” Having dropped that bomb on me, Malone stared at me expectantly, like I was supposed to say something.
What, I had no idea.
“Um…thanks?”
Michael groaned, and Malone scowled. Apparently that wasn’t the proper response. Maybe I should have licked his fucking boots. But we both knew that wasn’t going to happen.“This isn’t a joke,” Malone snapped. “It’s your future.” Or lack thereof. He was saying that last part in his head. I just knew it. “Go to bed. The least you can do is show up rested.”
Yeah, like I was gonna get any sleep after that.
Ten minutes later I followed Jace into the cabin to find Marc sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee in one hand. He turned to look at me when I came in, but I got the distinct impression that he’d been staring at the wall before that.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” I returned. Jace went straight to his room as I sank onto the couch facing Marc, crossing my legs beneath me. “Sorry to bail on you in the middle of the night. Dr. Carver called. Turns out Kaci’s neither Pride nor stray. She’s some kind of genetic-recessive something-or-other—”
“I know.”
I met his eyes in surprise. “You know?”
He handed me his half-full mug of coffee and I drank, pleased to discover that it was still warm. And perfectly sweetened, even though he took it black. “I heard you and Michael talking, so I called the doc myself after you left. He was already at the airport waiting for a flight back. He explained it to me.”
“You were awake? Why didn’t you say something?”
“I was afraid you wouldn’t go if you knew I was up, and I didn’t want you to miss the discussion.”
Sighing, I closed my eyes. Then I drained his mug. “Thank you.”
“You’d have done the same for me.” That wasn’t true, but it was a nice sentiment. If he’d been invited to an Alpha-only discussion without me, I’d have snuck along behind him to eavesdrop. “Did I miss anything?”
“Unfortunately, yeah. We think Kaci killed her mom and her sister. Not on purpose, of course. Probably out of fear and pain.”
Marc’s lips parted in surprise, then he closed his mouth and nodded. “That makes sense, in a morbid kind of way. Anything else?”
“They’re announcing my verdict tomorrow.”
“Of course they are. Just as soon as I’m gone.”
“I’m sorry.” I set the mug on the coffee table, then took his hand in both of mine. “You’re going to miss the big offensive tomorrow, too. Of course, so will I. They’ll never let me go.” The council wouldn’t risk a tabby’s life for something as ultimately insignificant as clearing out a den of strays. Even a tabby they’d claimed to be willing to execute only days earlier. Apparently consistency means nothing to some people…
“Well, at least it shouldn’t take too long. Ethan came in while you were gone. They finally got some answers out of the stray you guys brought in.” 
“Just now?” I glanced through the kitchen doorway at the clock hanging over the fridge. It was nearly six o’clock in the morning.
“A couple of hours ago. He and Reid had a few drinks to celebrate.”
Or to help deal with the fact that they’d beat the shit out of a perfect stranger for information. I knew Ethan better than any of my other brothers. He was good at his job and would do what he was told to do in the line of duty without fail. But he didn’t enjoy that particular aspect of the job. For his sake, I hoped my father had someone else in mind to replace Marc. It wasn’t fair to ask Ethan to take on such responsibility fulltime. Vic, maybe? I could see Vic doing it. But not Ethan, and definitely not Owen.
Marc frowned at the thoughts no doubt flashing across my face. He seemed distinctly uncomfortable thinking about what would become of the Pride after he was gone. I wasn’t comfortable with it, either.
“Let’s go back to bed.” So we did. By the time we finally fell asleep after another round of goodbye sex, the sun was coming up. But by then we were too exhausted to care.
Thirty-One

The next morning was hell.
Marc was gone when I woke up, and in his place was an envelope lying on his pillow. Inside was a folded sheet of lined yellow paper, probably torn from one of Michael’s legal pads.
I leaned over to flip on the lamp on the bedside table. My eyes watered as I unfolded the note.
Dear Faythe,
I’m sorry. I left without waking you up because I wasn’t sure you’d let me go if you had the chance to stop me. I’ll call you when I get settled in somewhere. Do not come looking for me. I’m going to Mississippi and will stay as close to the territorial border as possible.
I love you. I always have, and I always will. There’s more, but I can’t write it down. Not here, and not now.
Love always,
Marc
P.S. You don’t have to wear this, but I wanted you to have the option, should you change your mind. My offer still stands.
Wear what? I set the paper down and peered into the envelope, where I found a familiar silver ring peeking out at me. A delicate carving of an ivy vine wound around the band. It was the one he’d tried to give me two and a half months earlier. The one we’d broken up over. And there it was again.
A tear fell onto the envelope, and suddenly every emotion raging inside me blazed into anger. Unspeakable, unthinkable, uncontrollable anger. Marc was gone, and there was nothing I could do about it. I had nothing left of him but that damn ring and his scent on the pillowcase. I hadn’t even remembered to steal one of his shirts.
I shrieked in pain and fury, and in the kitchen, everyday sounds I hadn’t even realized I’d heard suddenly went silent. Enraged, I threw the envelope containing the ring across the room, where it smacked into the wall with a soft clink, then slid to the floor. I wadded the letter in both hands, then threw it to join the envelope. Then I collapsed onto my own pillow, using it to muffle more sob-wracked shrieking that was no one’s business but my own.
When the tears finally stopped, though the anger had yet to recede, I sat up, suddenly horrified by what I’d done. I scrambled off the bed and across the floor, then snatched the envelope and dumped it into my palm.
Nothing fell out. The ring was gone. Shit.
I retrieved the letter and smoothed it out on the floor, then folded it and slid it into my back pocket. Then I knelt to search for the ring, the cheap carpet rough against my hands and bare knees. Not under the bedside table. Not in the corner. Not under the armchair in the opposite corner. But there it was, under the dresser, glinting at me in the light from the bedside lamp.I had to lie flat on my stomach to reach the ring, and when I did, I slid it immediately onto the ring finger on my right hand. For a moment I stared at it in consideration. Then I took it off, not because I didn’t want to wear it, but because I didn’t want anyone else to see it. Marc and his ring were my business. Private.
Standing, I pulled my jeans from the arm of the chair in the corner and shoved the ring deep into the front right pocket. Then I stepped into them. I was zipping the fly beneath the hem of my pajama top when someone knocked at my door.
“Faythe, you okay?” It was Ethan.
“Go away,” I snapped, digging through my suitcase for a fresh shirt.
Instead, he opened the door. “Take a shower and get dressed. They’re bringing Kaci over in a few minutes, then everyone else is heading out into the woods.”