Chapter 132

#Chapter 132 – United When Victor and Evelyn walk back into the campsite, him still leaning heavily on her shoulder, their family is waiting for them.

Ian and Alvin rush forward, throwing themselves into their parents’ arms.

“We’re so glad you’re okay,” Alvin whispers, his voice excited but edged with sleepiness.

“Did you win?” Ian asks, looking excitedly up at his dad.

His dad ruffles his hair and gives him a warm smile, but doesn’t answer. It’s a complicated question.

Instead, the family moves, together, towards the still-burning fire at the middle of the campsite. Marissa and Bridgette are there, waiting, and Henry rolls out onto the porch of his cabin. Looking around, Victor can see his Beta team edging closer, all eager to hear the results of the trial.

“Well well,” Henry says, folding his hands in his lap. “I see that one of my sons has returned, apparently victorious. And where is Rafe?”

Evelyn can see Bridgette biting her lip, anxious.

Victor flicks his head backwards, indicating the still-dark forest, though dawn is starting to light the sky.

“He’s still out there, writhing in the snow, feeling the effects of wolfsbane.”

Bridgette gasps, getting shakily to her feet, staring out into the woods. Evelyn’s heart goes out to her; if it had been Rafe that returned to let them know that Victor was lying in the snow, suffering, she’d be desperate to help him.

Henry opens his mouth to say more, but Victor interrupts him. “Rafe cheated. He sent a proxy in to take his place in the fight, not showing up until his entire force had been wiped out.”

Henry nods, glancing at the boys, who had told him the same. He opens his mouth, ready to declare a winner.

“But,” Victor continues, “the final blow to Rafe was not delt with my hand.”

Henry’s mouth snaps shut. The family and Betas look at Victor and Evelyn, confused. Silence reigns in the clearing.

Then, Evelyn shrugs. “I did it.”

She takes a few steps forward and reaches down to grab the bottle of white wine out of its cooling pile of snow. “And now I’m going to bed. We can talk about all of this,” she waves a hand to indicate the whole trial, which she still thinks is ridiculous, “in the morning.”

“She’s right,” Victor says, nodding. “We’re exhausted, we’ll sort this out in the morning after the medic teams go retrieve the wounded.” With this, he looks pointedly at his lead Beta, who nods, salutes, and then hurries off to retrieve Rafe and the twenty wounded Betas from the woods.

Shooting everyone in the clearing a wide smile, and not giving them a chance to protest, Evelyn grabs two metal mugs out of a box of supplies and then, decisively, takes Victor’s hand. With little resistance, he goes with her to their cabin. The boys quickly follow behind.

Inside the cabin, Evelyn pours herself a mug of wine and sips it while she helps the boys out of their snow gear. Their eyes are half-lidded now after all of the excitement. They allow themselves to be tucked into their blankets with little protest.

“No more sneaking out,” Evleyn murmurs to them as she kisses each on their forehead. She turns to see Victor tending to his ankle, hissing as he eases off his boot and surveys the bruised and swollen flesh.

“Is it broken?” she asks, coming closer.

“No,” he murmurs, wincing as he flexes and points his foot. “Sprained, I think, but badly.” She hands him a long strip of gauze from a first-aid pack she finds beneath the bed and he wraps his ankle tightly.

When he finishes, Evelyn hands him two ibuprofen from the kit and half a mug of wine with which to wash them down.

Victor smirks before popping the pills into his mouth and then chasing them with sauvignon blanc.

“Whiskey would have been better.” He winces as he swallows.

“Whiskey would have been gross,” Evelyn responds passively, helping him ease back onto the bed and prop his injured leg up onto some pillows to decrease the swelling. “You’ll see a doctor about it tomorrow?”

Nodding his assent, Victor closes his eyes and leans his head back. Evelyn climbs into the bed as well, curling up next to him, her mostly-empty glass of wine still pressed into her hand.

“Tomorrow,” Victor murmurs, dragging a frustrated hand down his face. “Is going to be a big day.”

“Nothing we can’t handle,” Evelyn murmurs, taking the final sip of her wine and then lazily putting the cup up on the nearby windowsill. They are silent, a moment, before she says, “They’re not going to take this pack from you, Victor.”

“They’d have to pry it from my cold dead hands,” he murmurs back. “But considering they’d have to get through you three first,” he says, smiling and stroking her hair, “I think I’m in a pretty good spot.”

Evelyn smiles, pressing herself close to him, not letting herself think about tomorrow, when the trial would be decided.

When Evelyn finally opens her eyes, the sun is streaming through the windows of the cabin. She blinks against it as she feels Victor sitting up next to her, working to stand. She pushes herself up and puts out her hands to help him.

“It’s okay, Evelyn,” he says, wincing as he puts his injured leg on the floor. “Go back to sleep.”

“No way!” Alvin says from across the room, rubbing his eyes. “We’re not missing the good stuff!”

“Ugh, what time is it,” Evelyn murmurs, rubbing a hand over her sleepy head. “For four more hours of sleep, I’d give up the good stuff.”

Victor gives her a small laugh before hobbling off towards the bathroom. He knows she wouldn’t miss this upcoming family conversation for the world.

Ian is already awake, pressing himself against the window that overlooks the firepit. “Everyone’s already up!” he says, eager. “Look, there’s uncle Rafe!” Alvin joins him at the window, peering out to see their uncle bundled in blankets, sitting in a wheelchair borrowed from their grandfather. He twitches, lightly, wincing in pain every few moments from the wolfsbane still coursing through his system.

“Geeze,” Alvin murmurs. “He’s pretty beat up.”

“Good,” their mother says, standing next to the bed and stretching. “You two will hear all about it soon enough, but your uncle did some very wicked things last night in the forest.” She gives them a stern look. “Your father will need your support today, but he will also need you to let him sort it out. So, no interruptions, okay?”

The boys look to her, considering, and then nod in agreement. It’s their father’s fight, they know. And they have full confidence in him.

“Good,” she says, nodding in return, and then heading off to the bathroom when Victor emerges. “Get dressed, boys,” she calls over her shoulder. “We’re going to the fire pit in five minutes.”

The boys rush to their little packs of clothing, pulling on fresh warm clothes, eager to see what happens next.

“Do you think Uncle Rafe will be in trouble for cheating?” Ian whispers.

“I don’t know,” Alvin responds, pulling a heavy sweater over his t-shirt. “They let him get away with it last time.”

“What about what mama said last night, that she was the one who…what was it?” Ian asks, trying to remember the language.

“Delivered the final blow,” Alvin whispers, handing his brother a set of socks. “I think that means she stabbed him, not papa.”

Ian winces. “That doesn’t sound like it follows the rules either.”

Alvin shakes his head, agreeing, and both look over at their father, still dressed in his black tactical gear from the trial.

There is a grim determination to Victor’s face that sets their minds at ease. A few minutes later, all dressed and as neat as they can be after four hours of sleep, the family leaves the cabin together.

The children have adopted their father’s determined look, their mother’s confident stride. As one, the family takes to this new battlefield, determined to claim what is rightfully theirs.

As they approach, a slow smile builds on Rafe’s ravaged face. In his eyes, an equal determination burns.