Forever Broken

“Paul Kraskowski…Skulls, you have been accused of consorting with the enemy. You were caught with a vampire—a male vampire—and you admitted that you’ve been doing…all kinds of sick shit with him. What the fuck do you have to say for yourself?”

Say whatever you need to in order to get out alive. Deny me and what we are to each other. I don’t care. Save yourself, mon amour, Laurent’s voice whispered urgently in his head.

No. I can’t lie anymore. This is who I am.

Paul lifted his chin and words that he’d been denying, even to himself, suddenly flowed to his lips. “What do I have to say for myself? That I love him. I love Laurent and I want to be with him. If that means I can’t run with the Lunas Locas anymore, then so be it.”

“Fine, if that’s the way you want it.” Angel took a deep breath, his eyes filled with pain and rage. “Paul, you’ve been my second wolf for years and my friend for longer than that. I fucking hate to bust you out but—”

“What?” Chulo interrupted. “That’s fucking weak, man—we need to kill this pinche cabron. ”

“Hijo de puta!” Angel turned on his cousin and punched him full in the mouth.

Chulo fell over backward and landed on his ass. He looked up, his eyes wide and wounded.

“Hey, what the fuck?” He spit blood on the floor.

“I am the packleader here,” Angel stormed. “I make the decisions and if you don’t shut your fucking mouth I’ll shut it for you— permanently.”

“Okay, okay. Dios,” Chulo muttered. “I was just saying—”

“Well don’t. Just fucking keep your mouth shut and let me get through this.” Angel took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He was silent for a long moment until his fists unclenched and he stopped shaking. When he turned back to Paul and opened his eyes, they were flat, black buttons showing no emotion at all.

“Uh, packleader?” one of the wolves asked uncertainly.

Angel nodded at Paul. “Kill him.”

*

“You don’t understand, Father. I must go to him! They’re going to kill him.”

Laurent struggled, throwing himself against the hands restraining him again and again, wild with grief and fear. The silver restraining bracelets around his wrists made him sick and weak but that didn’t matter. He had to get to Paul, had to stop them, had to— A stinging pain across his face broke the panic that gripped him and he realized that his father had slapped him. “Get hold of yourself, Laurent. At least try to comport yourself with some dignity.”

“But…they’ll kill him.” It was the only thought in his head, that and the hideous frustration that he was trapped here, held against his will by his own kind while, somewhere across the vast urban sprawl of the city, Paul was bound and helpless without him. It didn’t matter that Laurent would die too—he just didn’t want to die alone. Didn’t want his last moments to be without the man he loved. “They’re going to kill him,” he said again, dully.

“Good. It will save me the trouble of doing it myself. Now let me see…” His father examined Laurent’s silk brocade coat and fluffed the lace cravat at his throat. “I think you look respectable, if a bit wild. The council need never know any of this foolishness took place.”

“It is not foolishness—it is love.” Laurent stopped struggling and faced his father directly. “I love him, Father. I don’t want your title or the lands and wealth that go with it. Not if it means I cannot also have Paul by my side. I renounce them. I renounce you. ”

His father slapped him again and then straightened his cravat. “That is enough. I won’t hear such ravings.”

“But you have to let me go—I am of age and I have renounced my right to our name and title.” Laurent tried to pull away. “Give me the keys to these damn silver restraints and set me free.”

“I will do nothing of the kind.” His father surveyed him coolly. “Such ravings are simply a sign of your madness—why else would you have gone with a were in the first place? If I had not already gathered the council I would put this ceremony off but as things lie, we must go through with it. Hopefully when the dog is dead, your symptoms will pass.”

“Your father is quite right, my darling.” His mother glided into view, radiant in a silver beaded Vera Wang gown. “It’s time you got over this little case of puppy love and moved on with your life. I’ve picked a lovely girl for your consort—she won’t mind a bit if you bed men on the side. So long as they don’t have fleas.” She sniffed.

“I can’t move on—Paul is my life, more than you know.” Laurent glared at them both. “You don’t understand—we are bonded. If he dies, I die—doesn’t that mean anything to you?”