Page 35 of Atlas and the Traitor

“I didn’t know he was my mate, then,” he barked back.

It was a risky move, bringing Atlas into this. Volatile for their pack, and if someone was leaking information to Evan, how would this change the calculus? Would he believe that Atlas, once he caught Robin, would ever turn his mate over? Was Jenn even considering that or just acting out of frustration and anger?

Regardless, the cat was out of the bag. “Wait?” Bruce said. “The same warlock who killed Deborah?”

“He didn’t,” Robin corrected. “It was his twin.”

“Because that’s so much better,” another of their cousins, Olivia, said from where she’d been eyeing something out the window.

“You vanish for days on end, Robin,” Jenn said, drawing his attention back to her. “You don’t let anyone in on your plans.” She swallowed hard. “You don’t answer pack calls.”

His gut roiled, familiar guilt creeping up his throat, his voice rough with it as he gritted out his response. “I have answered every one of them the past two months.”

“How much of the past two months,” Jasper said, “could have been avoided if you’d answered the call ten years ago?”

And as fast as the guilt had climbed, it brought him low, taking his stomach to the floor, same as it always did when the worst mistake of his life was thrown back in his face. “So, we’re back to that?”

“Once a traitor, always a traitor.”

Good to know where he stood. While this may have started as an act, the performance had been hijacked by the truth, which made what he came here for all the more important. He’d never get another chance. “Give me Mom’s letters.”

“I told you?—”

“Give them to me,” Robin roared, the voice he would have used to give an order if he’d taken control of the pack after Deborah. By birthright, he’d deserved it; by deed, he’d forfeited it. Instincts were instincts, though, and everyone but Jasper took a step back and lowered their heads.

While he didn’t join them in physically submitting, Jasper tempered his voice, the tone deferential, when he spoke again. “She was my sister.”

“She was my mother,” Robin said, letting every bit of sorrow bleed into his words. “You had a lifetime with her. I had minutes. If you don’t want anything to do with me, fine. But give me that piece of her, of my history, and I’ll never show my face here again.”

Jenn gasped. “Robin?—”

He kept his gaze locked on his uncle. “Do we have a deal?”

The older man stared him down another long minute before seeming to accept the truth of Robin’s words and nodding to Bruce, who disappeared into the house.

“Robin.” Jenn stepped to his side, hand on his forearm, tears glistening in her eyes. “You don’t have to do this.”

He covered her hand, giving it a squeeze, as he forced out words around the lump in his throat. She was a good pack leader; she didn’t need the albatross that was him hanging around her neck. “I do, cuz.”

Bruce returned with the stack of letters, tied together by the green and yellow ribbons of Robin’s memories. He handed them to Jasper, who slapped them into Robin’s outstretched hand. “Willow deserved better. So did Deborah.”

Robin didn’t disagree.

Twenty-Five

Near the end of the half-mile gravel drive, Robin reached for the hem of his shirt to undress before shifting when Atlas stepped out of the woods. “That should do the trick.”

“You were there?”

“Close enough to hear the good bits.”

Robin’s answering laugh sounded as cold as his insides felt.

“Come this way,” Atlas said with a tip of his head toward the woods he’d just appeared out of.

A few minutes later, once the replays in Robin’s head quieted enough to appreciate reality’s comfortable silence, he realized where they were headed. Following Atlas, he didn’t bother to hide his smile, grateful for it to chase away the chill. “I used to come here as a kid,” he said, as they emerged from the trees beside a small reservoir pond. Surrounded by tall pines, the little lake had always felt like an oasis amid the vastness.

“Damn.” Atlas clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. “I was hoping to surprise you.” His rolling eyes belied his words. “Maybe this will do?” he added, as he pulled out a joint.

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