Five Black Bags

The smell hit them first.

Not the smell of death, though that was there too, underneath everything else. But the smell of fear. Sharp and acrid, hanging in the air like smoke, clinging to the crowd gathered in the town square.

Gwen felt her mother’s hand tighten around hers.

"It’s going to be okay," Beatrice whispered, but her voice shook. "He’s coming home. That’s what matters. He’s coming home."

Gwen didn’t answer.

Because she could see the wooden cart at the center of the square, surrounded by pack guards and onlookers, and she could see what was on it.

Body bags.

Multiple body bags.

Small ones.

"No," Beatrice breathed beside her.

They pushed through the crowd together. People moved aside when they saw them coming, the Beta’s wife and daughter, still afforded that much respect at least. Still treated like they mattered.

For now.

Alpha Duncan stood beside the cart. Tall, broad-shouldered, his face carved from stone. He looked up when they stopped in front of him, and something moved in his eyes. Something dark and complicated that Gwen couldn’t name.

"Beatrice" he said quietly. "Gwen."

"Where is he." Beatrice’s voice was steady despite the way her hand was shaking in Gwen’s grip. "You said Arthur was coming home today. You said....."

"He is home." Duncan’s jaw tightened. "What’s left of him."

The world tilted.

Beatrice made a sound. Small and broken. Like something inside her had just cracked.

Gwen looked at the cart. At the body bags. There were five of them, she realized with growing horror. Five separate bags, all small, all.....

"No," she whispered.

"The hunters got to the meeting site before we could send reinforcements," Duncan said, his voice flat and emotionless in that particular way people speak when the emotions are too big to let out. "By the time our scouts arrived, everyone was dead. Torn apart. We did our best to...." He stopped. Looked at Beatrice. "We did our best to recover what we could."

Beatrice’s knees buckled.

Gwen caught her before she hit the ground, her arms wrapping around her mother’s waist, holding her upright.

"Mom....Mom, I’ve got you...."

"He’s in there," Beatrice whispered, staring at the bags with wide, uncomprehending eyes. "Your dad is in there. In pieces. He’s...." Her voice cracked completely. "He’s in pieces."

"The Fenwicks," Gwen said, looking at Duncan over her mother’s head. "They were supposed to be there. The treaty meeting. You said the Fenwick Alphas were going to be there to negotiate the alliance. Where were they? Why didn’t they...."

"The Fenwicks weren’t there," Duncan cut her off sharply.

Gwen felt ice slide down her spine. "What do you mean they weren’t there."

"I mean they didn’t show up." His voice was tight. Controlled. Too controlled. "Your father and the others went to the meeting site. The witches were there. The Fenwick representatives were supposed to arrive at dawn to finalize the alliance terms." He paused. "They never came. And four hours later, the hunters found the location and slaughtered everyone."

The words hung in the air.

"They knew," Gwen said slowly. "The Fenwicks knew the hunters were coming. That’s why they didn’t....."

"Watch your mouth," Duncan snapped, his voice cracking like a whip. "That kind of talk will get you killed, girl. Do you understand me? Killed."

Beatrice wasn’t listening to any of it.

She was staring at the body bags, her whole body starting to shake, her breathing coming faster and faster.

"Arthur," she whispered. "Oh god. Oh god, Arthur..."

"Mom...."

"They cut him apart."Beatrice’s voice rose, hysteria bleeding through. "They cut my mate apart and put him in bags like he was....like he was nothing....."

"Beatrice." Duncan’s voice was firm now. Almost gentle. "You need to calm down."

"Calm down?" She looked at him with wild eyes. "My mate is in pieces on that cart and you’re telling me to calm down?"

"The pack is watching," Duncan said quietly. "You need to...."

"I don’t care about the pack!" Beatrice’s voice cracked completely. "I don’t care about anything except the fact that my mate is dead and you’re standing there telling me to calm down like this is....like this is...."

She stopped.

Her eyes went unfocused.

"Mom?" Gwen’s grip tightened. "Mom, what...."

Beatrice’s hand went to her chest. To her heart.

"It’s gone," she whispered. "The bond. I can’t....I can’t feel him anymore. He’s really...." Her eyes rolled back. "He’s really gone."

She collapsed.

Gwen barely managed to lower her to the ground instead of letting her fall. "Mom! Mom, can you hear me?"

Beatrice didn’t respond. Her eyes were closed, her face sheet-white, her breathing shallow and rapid.

"Get the pack doctor," Duncan barked at one of the guards. "Now!"