Page 51 of Pack Rage
“She’s your mother. She’s the Alpha Mate of Southern,” Margarette breathed, taking in all the silver scars on Mama’s arms and legs as she crawled around. “Poor soul.”
Mama kept muttering as she looked for something. “Heads and hearts. He’s not our Alpha. His wolf is weak.” I didn’t think she was talking about Callaway, though.
“Maybe something happened to Callaway?” Margarette let Bradley go, though he still looked like he might attack Grigor.
Brand stepped between the two males again, taking Bradley’s arm. “We should catch you up on a few things, while you finish eating.”
The Northern Alpha moved stiffly back to the table, like he’d aged a few decades since the last time I’d seen him. Eventually, after he made sure Margarette had eaten all she could, and that Grigor wasn’t close to her, he moved over to the corner along with Finnick to listen to what Brand had to say.
Margarette listened to their conversation with half an ear while I tried to get Mama to return to the sofa. Instead, she went to the low bed and scraped around under it with an arm. “Ha!” She pulled out the short sword that must have been kicked there during the fight, and stood, one hand still pressed to her abdomen. “I don’t know you,” she said to Margarette, her eyes moving over the long scar that stretched across Margarette’s face. She traced one of her own scars and sniffed, her eyes glowing gold. “Your wolf is strong.”
“Hello, Lily,” Margarette replied with a soft smile. “I’m Margarette Hillier, Alpha Mate of the Northern pack. My son Glen Hillier is mated to your daughter, Florida Wills.”
“Boreal, a strong pack,” Mama said after a few seconds. “I’m Alpha M…” She stopped speaking mid-word, her eyes dimming, her lips getting tight. “Florida? Florida Witch?”
I was surprised no one could hear my heart break as I watched her completely slide back into the mama I’d known for so long. When her eyes went wild and landed on me, clouded with hate, I covered my mouth with a hand to keep from making a sound.
To everyone’s surprise, Grigor stepped over to her, holding out an arm, and bowing in that odd courtly way he had done before. We all ignored Bradley’s growl in the corner, listening to Grigor’s formal words. “You are Lily Rain, Alpha Mother of Occidens. Mother to my wolf’s true mate. Heart of the Tenebris pack.” She eyed him suspiciously, but didn’t seem afraid now. Maybe a little wary, but he was blood-spattered. “The Florida witch is long dead. That witch’s daughter is alive, but I vow I will kill her, and keep your child safe.”
Mama’s brow furrowed. “My… daughter. My…”
“Your Flor,” Margarette finished for her, as she reached out a hand. “She is such an exceptional young woman. Can I tell you what she did for my pack? How she saved us?”
“Y-yes.” Mama allowed Margarette to lead her to the sofa, and they sat together, talking softly about me. While the other males cleaned up the mess they’d made, I allowed Grigor to wrap his arms around me, his chest to my back. The little shocks that always came from our contact were muted through our clothing.
“It’s my name, isn’t it?” I asked. “Florida Witch Wills. She hates it. When she hears it, she thinks I’mher.” I swallowed hard, trying not to let my pain show. “Is it because my father named me?”
Grigor pulled me over to the chair, lifting me to sit on his lap. He was the shortest of my mates, but we fit perfectly, our limbs twining together like we were holding each other up. “Witches can do spells. Both light, bright magic, fueled by the sun or the moon, or created by self-sacrifice. This one was not that kind of witch. Verbena Flock is what Luke said she was called, though her true name could have been something different when she was born. Her kind of magic requires blood, pain, or a sacrifice—but not one of her own.”
“Mama said the witch forced Callaway to promise not to kill me, after. He gave me her name, to force a connection between us.”
“If I didn’t know what an idiot your father was, I would think what he did was very clever. He honored the vow he made to give you her name, in a way. From what I can piece together, the witch your father contracted was the leader of her coven. She expected to break a bond, but your presence in your mother’s womb complicated the spell. Perhaps she sensed your strength, even then.”
The whole room had grown quiet, everyone listening to him. “Changing a name is no small thing, especially if it’s done through the power of blood, and with magic. If you’d been born Verbena Flock, and the witch had survived trying to break your parents’ mate bond, she would have had a hold over you no onecould break. You would, in effect, have become a vessel she could pull from, and use.” I shivered at the thought, and he held me a little tighter. “She could have found you no matter where you might be hidden. Even after her death, it’s possible her coven could have pulled strength from you to do their spells.”
I laughed, a little hysterically. “But because my father was an idiot?—”
“Yes,” he said with a smile. “And you and your mother were strong. The witch died, in any case, and your father fulfilled his promise to name you for her, more or less.”
“Where did the name Wills come from?” Bradley was very carefully not looking at Grigor when he asked, but at my mama.
She whispered her reply. “Rose Willow was the name of my best friend when I was a little girl, before we had to run. Mama said we needed a different last name, once we got out of the packlands. They’d kill me if they knew I was…”
“A Rain, one of the descendants of the Alpha Mothers,” Grigor finished for her, when she had to stop for a moment.
She nodded. “Willow was still too close to the pack names, and my mama said Wills meant protector. Resolute protector,” she whispered. “She used her power to change my name.”
“So we really are Wills. I like it. I like knowing where it came from.”
Mama didn’t reply; she’d fallen back on the sofa, obviously in pain. Grigor stood, setting me down on the chair, and approached. He held a hand out to Mama, waiting for her to acknowledge him. “May I? I can ease your pain.”
“No… blood magic.”
“I have sworn to my brother mate, Brand, not to harm an innocent. I would never harm you, Alpha Mother.”
After a long, measuring look, she took his hand. “I’m not really an Alpha Mother. I never had a ceremony.”
“You never needed a ceremony, little blade. You were born an Alpha Mother, and earned the right to the title by fighting without cease for your whole life. You’re one to the shifters in your rogue pack; there’s no other way they could have escaped death, if you hadn’t been the mother they needed to help them battle their madness.”
