Chapter 14: A Question He Couldn't Answer

Emeric POV

Garrett caught me on my way back from the training yard, stepping out from behind a support post like he'd been waiting there a while.

"Alpha Vane." He said my title formal enough, but there was nothing formal in the way he was standing, jaw set like a man spoiling for something.

"Garrett, right? Head Warrior."

"That's right." He fell into step beside me, uninvited. "Got a minute?"

"Walking's usually a good time for talking. What's on your mind?"

"Wren." He said the name like it left a bad taste. "You've been spending a fair bit of time around her lately. Garden shed. Dinner. Noticed it, and so's everyone else."

"Didn't realize my movements were being tracked so closely."

"It's a small pack. People talk." He stopped walking, forcing me to stop too. "I figured somebody should tell you straight, before you get any ideas that don't belong in your head."

"Go on, then."

"That woman's a murderer." He said it flat, sure of himself, like he was handing me some obvious fact everybody already knew. "Nearly killed her own sister out of jealousy. Spent two years locked up for it, and she's walking around here now acting like she's the wronged party."

"Murderer's a strong word for someone who's still walking around free."

"It would've been worse if the family hadn't shown mercy." His voice picked up heat. "She should be grateful she's not still rotting in that quarry. Instead she's playing wounded, working her way into everybody's sympathy, and now apparently yours too."

"Is that so?"

"I'm serious, Alpha Vane." He stepped closer, dropping his voice like he was doing me some kind of favor. "You've got a real match here with Calla. Good bloodline, good standing, good alliance for both packs. Don't let some sob story from a convicted criminal mess that up before it's even started."

"Appreciate the concern." I kept my tone even, watching him. "But I make my own decisions about who I trust."

"Then make an informed one." He was practically vibrating now, worked up in a way that didn't match a man simply relaying old facts. "You don't know what she's capable of. I've seen her. Cold as ice, doesn't even bother defending herself half the time because she knows she's guilty. Innocent people fight back. She just sits there."

"Or," I said, "innocent people who've learned nobody's listening stop wasting their breath."

That landed somewhere. I saw it, a small flicker behind his eyes, gone almost as fast as it came.

"You don't know her," he said, quieter now, though the edge hadn't left his voice. "I've known this family for years. I know exactly what she did."

"How, exactly?"

"What do you mean, how? Everybody knows."

"Everybody knows the story," I said. "That's different from knowing what actually happened."

His jaw tightened. "The council heard the case. She confessed."

"You said that already. Doesn't answer my question." I studied him a second, genuinely curious now, not just poking at him for the fun of it. "Have you ever actually sat down with her and asked what happened? Her version. Not the family's, not Calla's. Hers."

Garrett opened his mouth, and nothing came out for a second.

"That's not…" he started. "I don't need to ask her anything. I know what she did."

"That's not what I asked."

"What difference does it make?" His voice climbed, defensive now instead of certain. "She confessed. That's on record. I don't need to sit down and hold her hand through some sob story to know the facts."

"So that's a no."

"I…" He stopped himself, jaw working, something uncomfortable crossing his face that hadn't been there a minute ago. "It's not relevant. The council already…."

"You've spent this whole conversation telling me what kind of person she is," I said, keeping my voice level, no heat in it, just laying it out plain. "Cold. Guilty. Dangerous. All based on a confession you weren't in the room for, from a case you didn't investigate, about an incident you weren't there to witness. And you're telling me all this with more certainty than I've heard from anyone in this house who actually was there."

"I know this family," he said,but it came out weaker than his earlier bravado. "I trust the people who told me."

"Sure. That's fine. But you asked me to make an informed decision." I started walking again, slower this time, letting him catch up if he wanted to. "Seems like you might want to take your own advice before handing it out."

He didn't say anything for a few steps. I glanced sideways and caught him staring straight ahead, jaw tight, something working behind his expression that looked a lot less like certainty than it had five minutes ago.

"You don't know what you're talking about," he finally said,but it came out more stubborn than convincing.

"Maybe not." I shrugged. "But I know I haven't decided anything yet. Sounds like you decided a long time ago, and never once checked if the thing you decided was actually true."

I left him standing there in the middle of the path, and I didn't look back to see his face,but I could feel him standing there a long while after I walked off, not moving, like the question had lodged somewhere he couldn't easily dig it back out of.