Who is Magpie?

Jessamine had tuned her out entirely, merely watching her go with the patience of a kindergarten teacher. When she was gone she sat on the stairs and began feeling the ankle that was actually injured.

“This one will be the worst to manage with,” she muttered.

Ezekiel was already in front of her. “You can’t do this…”

She chuckled without humour. “Not much choice, one wolven isn’t worth a war…”

“They are when it’s you.” He was kneeling before her now, lifting her hands from her ankle to hold them in his and kissing them gently.

Bronx too sat beside her. “You are a surprisingly good fighter, but Athena is an alpha for a reason. You’ve had two days of being a wolven compared to her decade of shifting.”

“I hear you,” she began, “but there is already whatever the Fae and rogues are planning, you can’t take a war on three fronts, the pack can’t take that. And I just got here, I’m not looking to be banished.” She stuck her tongue out like the word tasted disgustingly.

Bronx was in a state of vibrating anxiety but Ezekiel had returned to a pure panic. Jessamine looked at his face now, away from the wrist she had returned to wringing into mobility. She realized, as his panic drifted into her chest, how her nonchalant words had been cruel to say to him.

“My Alpha,” she began and raised his head to kiss him fully. “I have never been as happy as I have been here, ever, in all my life that I remember, and that is something that I will fight for.”

Bronx rest a hand behind her to lean out of the way while others walked passed him, and when she placed a hand on the stair to rise it landed on his. She hesitated, wrapping her fingers around his instead and that was all the time Tidas needed to get the nerve to come over to them. He was visibly uncomfortable and forlorn.

“I should have fought to overturn that stupid law when I was alpha. That law is why your mother and I didn’t tell anyone about each other until we’d already been mated for several days. She was terrified of the stupid thing after her sister was challenged.” He helped Jessamine stand and she balanced most of her weight on the better foot.

“It’s no one’s fault, but I commend their a adaptability in the plan making department when it comes to attempts to killing me.” Jessamine smiled at him. “Breathe Tidas, for Talia, you’ll send her into labour with so much stress. I’m not afraid.”

Tidas hugged her, wanting to congratulate her and welcome her to the family but feeling like that was inappropriate right now. When the hug felt complete he went off to find his wife, suddenly very worried that his mood had affected her. Behind him was Willow who approached Jessamine and shoved both men to her sides away with a light smack of her cane.

Her arms wrapped around her fully as if they could have gone around twice. “Athena is an imprudent girl who never learned to block. She will go on the offensive forever if she can, so don’t let her get too many swipes in.”

“Just the right amount of swipes,” Jessamine assured and when they parted Jessamine began limping toward the door.

“Jessamine,” Willow called, before tossing the cane in her direction.

All of their hands reached out to catch it, Ezekiel and Bronx each getting an end and Jessamine grabbing the centre. Willow waved them off as if to say she would get it back later, and tottered off to the kitchen to bug the chef for something tasty. Jessamine move to go outside, with both men following behind her now uselessly, as the cane tapped on the ground.

They stayed silent as she crossed the yard and headed to where she had buried her old things. She moved to kneel on the ground but Ezekiel held up his hand and stopped her.

“Don’t get your comfy clothes all muddy, what do you need? I’ll get it.” Ezekiel offered.

She appreciated the offer, leaning forward to whisper what it was in his ear.

Bronx watched with burning curiosity before joining in to help him move the dirt. Once they had made a decent hole, he found her baton and tried to dig around the sides to find the object she had requested. To say Bronx was confused to see the flashlight pulled out of the hole, before it was filled back in, would presume that Ezekiel understood any better.

Jessamine handed the object to Bronx and instructed him to hide it in his sweater until they got back to the room. The silent walk back inside and up the stairs was more painful than the silent walk out had been. Jessamine didn’t even get a chance to enjoy the superior feeling to knowing the answer to their questions; her mind was already planning ten moves ahead in every direction.