“Oh God! No way!” Brandon softly exclaimed and suddenly he felt an odd swirl in his gut. Something terrible was about to hit him in the very core. "How could...I mean why would Mantilo do that?"

Unfortunately, Brandon’s gut was proven right as Glen continued to elaborate. With distant eyes the Healer continued at a softer pace and tone.

“Brandon...” She started, then she bit her bottom lip, and clenched her hands. After a second, she relaxed and continued.

 “Don’t think badly of my Love. Mantilo was much colder back then. He was blood thirsty...and cruel in his sprit. He was Uror’s son after all. He was a Western Tribe Leopard as well. By blood the Western Leopards were cruel and beastly, almost lost ot thier instincts back then.” Glen suddenly let out a broken growl and turned her eyes away. 

“After Garesh was killed I was put through all kinds of terrible things at the hands of some very nasty and power drunk Western Leopards who wanted to rule this Clan. They wanted to seize power....so they hurt me. So badly and...”

Easley sensing the churning emotions and seeing the darkness rising in Glens eyes that seemed far too familiar Brandon tried to stop her from speaking and dredging up any more of her pain.

 “Wait Glen...Look just don’t think about it...” He tried to sooth her, but Glen was already past gone. Tumbling into her own past where Brandon knew everything seemed like the present.

“I still remember it. The crippling weight of thier bodies.... And how fear immobilizes you when you understand that you cant get away. Your nightmares Brandon...” Glen softly mummer, glancing at Brandon, but not really seeing him. “They seemed so familiar to me when I first witnessed them.” Glen shook her head and whispered.

“Even now if I concentrate I can still smell them...the men that took me. I dream about the men...thier fangs tearing and thier touch violating...about what they did to me...” Glen blinked hard and shuddered as a solitary tear slid down her cheek, startling Brandon and making his heart seize in panic. 

He literally skipped from foot to foot in physical discomfort ready to bolt to find the first Guardian he could to come and help him comfort the Queen.

Glen reached up and covered her eyes with her left hand, blocking her tears from sight and with a watery voice she shook her head again and said. “...Oh silly me. I’m sorry...I just...need a moment to...”

But Glen didn’t finish her sentence, she simply folded into silence, small drops of water traveled down from the cover of her hands giving testament to the fact that she was overcome with sorrow.

It was shocking to witness such a self-assured woman like Glen in such a vulnerable place. IT was painful to see. Brandon swallowed the frog in his throat and swiftly went to reach out to her. But as Brandon crossed the small space that separated him from Glen and he put his hand on her small shoulder a deep beastly rumble lit the room. Brandon flinched in surprise and both he and Glen glanced towards the doorway to see Mantilo walking in from the hallway.

Ezekiel’s father had never looked so intimidating or handsome. The Clan Head was decked out in an immaculate black suit. Long Silken sleeves and slim black slacks with a sharp collar and silver cuff links seemed almost pained across the barrel-chested Shifter. Mantilo’s hair looked freshly oiled and it was unbraided. It laid in a thick curtain across his wide shoulders, soft light danced across the obsidian strands. To Brandon he looked like he was going to host some lavish ball.

But the sharp cat like gaze and the yellow blaze of his inner leopard in his long pupils created a sharp atmosphere in the room. Wordlessly the Clan Head crossed the room, his entire body seemingly drawn to Glen.

Brandon, who got the memo, quickly stepped back towards his seat; Rather than stand in the path of the large man and his distressed Mate.

Glen, who had yet to recover from her tears remained speechless, as Mantilo grasped her hands and pulled her gently from her seat. A strong left arm wrapped around her small waist and Mantilo anchored Glen to his chest with a gentleness in his moves and bleeding across his expression that Brandon could have never believed the stern man was capable of.

Mantilo reached out and caressed Glen’s cheek, dashing away tears and rumbling at her in what unbelievably sounded like deep distress. “Glen....Glen...” He mewled as he pressed his lips to her temple and softly rocked her. “Shhh. It’s okay...I’m here.” Mantilo spoke her name and he touched her as if everything about her was thin glass on the verge of cracking. “I’m here.”

Glen closed her eyes and rested her hands against Mantilo’s chest and it was only with her being encased in his arms that Brandon realized that the healer was shivering and shaking from head to toe. In a thick voice Glen burrowed into Mantilo and tried to laugh. “Yes. I know your here My Heart...” She said through her tears. “You’re always there to save me when I need you.”

“Always...” Mantilo softly rumbled back and without another word he tilted Glen back and kissed her. A kiss that grew deeper and deeper as the moments passed. A passionate declaration and a demand. Every second that it lasted screamed of something intimate....and true.

Brandon didn’t truly understand it...but he did feel something inside of him cry out in painful envy. Something that begged from his soul.

I want that!? I want to have that too!?

With those words pulling at his heart Brandon turned his gaze away, but all he found was a familiar memory waiting on him.

A memory of the night of the attack on the Clan Celebration. That night Brandon had broken down in Ezekiel’s arms. And much like Mantilo had done to Glen. Ezekiel had consoled him, soothed him, devoured him in a kiss as if he was suffocating and Ezekiel was his air.

And suddenly with a small cramp in his heart Brandon had to wonder.

Did I throw something like that away? Can I have a fraction of what these two have with Ezekiel?

It was at this point that Glen and Mantilo pulled apart, thus giving Brandon something to place his attention on, instead of searching the twisted valleys of his own heart.

“I’m sorry Mantilo....” Glen was softly apologizing to her Mate as Brandon clocked back into their conversation.

But with a soft growl Mantilo sighed and asked sternly. “What happened Glen...?” Mantilo was still embracing Glen but his hands had settled on her lower back, allowing the Healer to press her hands to his chest, and fiddle with the buttons of his suit as she spoke.

“Nothing happened...” The Healer seemed to soothe. “I just got a little emotional as I was talking to Brandon. I got carried away and some very unpleasant memories surfaced....” Glen stopped, glanced down and almost guiltily added. “They were memories from the days of the Civil War.”

At this soft admittance Mantilo noticeably froze, then he snarled and closed his eyes. “I sensed so much distress I thought you were under attack...but now I understand.” Mantilo stopped, opened his eyes and gently frowned at his Mate.

“Why this tale...?” He suddenly pressed her. “Why return back to such a wreathed time in our lives? I can still barely think of those days without wanting to weep. Your pain....” Mantilo stopped and cleared his voice that had taken on a slight tremble. After a moment the Clan head tilted his head closer to his Mate and nearly whispered. “NONE OF IT EVER SHOULD HAVE HAPPENED!” he hissed vehemehetly.

“I did not mean to open up any old wounds Mantilo....” Glen hissed as she pressed a kiss to the side of Mantilo mouth. Then she said “I simply felt it was important for Brandon to hear our story. ”

There was something heavy about the way Glen said this...and Brandon wasn’t the only one who noticed because the Clan head sent his wife a strange look and gently pressed her. “Why Glen?” He asked.

Glen sent him a private look of her own and strongly replied. “I felt it would help inform his decision before we asked him that important question we had been meaning to ask him.”

A silent exchange passed as Mantilo looked into Glen’s face, and even though nothing was said Brandon felt like a whole conversation was passing before his eyes until finally Ezekiel’s father sighed and nodded. “Fine.” He told Glen. Then without any more exchange Mantilo released Glen from his hold, choosing instead to hold her hand as he shifted around and put his attention on Brandon for the first time since entering the room.

But before he said anything else Mantilo softly growled at Glen. “Where were you at in the story...” He softly inquired.

Glen nibbled her lip, then replied. “I sort of came in close to the end, after Gareseh was Assassinated.”

“Okay... I will finish the telling.” Mantilo told her softly, then he looked at Brandon sighed and said “Stop gapping Boy...you look like a fish.”

Brandon mentally checked his winded expression, rolled his eyes and shot back at the man. “I’m just a little speechless!” He quipped. “This all sounds so dark. I’m confused at why anyone would treat others so badly over their appearance.”

Casting Brandon a solemn, but thoughtful look Mantilo soon replied. “Yes. The disgusting thinking that aggravated my people’s minds and hearts. But I won’t rehash the particulars. I’m quite sure Glen has told you about the Civil War in great detail already, but what I’m sure she did not express to you, was how I am the one who first ignited the war. I was the one who spilled the first blood.”

Brandon wasn’t sure what he had expected to hear next, after all of the other startling information he had received that day....but somehow this confession stole Brandon’s breathe away and he squeaked. “Wait. What do you mean you started the Civil War?”

Mantilo took in a deep breath and finally said “I killed him Brandon....I killed Greseh Snow Leopard. I was the Assassin that took out the Shaman. I murdered him in cold blood and encouraged the violence to escalate soon after he was buried.”

“But....but Why?” Brandon couldn’t help but demand. “I mean I thought Greseh was pressing for peace between the Leopard blood lines? Why did you kill him?” Brandon asked sharing first Glen, then Mantilo’s gaze.

Seeming too ashamed to look at Brandon as he surmounted an answer Mantilo turned his gaze to the far windows and gently answered. “I realized later that I murdered the Shaman out of spite.” Mantilo hissed. “When my father was poisoned and I became Clan Head, he left behind a gaping divide between our Blood Lines. A divide filled with ignorance and paranoia. A divide that consumed me in rage.”

Mantilo stopped, dropped his shoulders and seemed to lament. “.... I was not...ready to assume control of the Western Leopards. I was young and power hungry. I was not the man I am today.”

Mantilo glanced at Brandon, shook his head and continued. His voice conveying a deep feeling of regret. “I was brash and angry and hateful towards the other Blood Line. All of my misfortune seemed to be because of the Snow Leopards. I blamed my Mothers’ death...and all of the failings in our society on the Snow Leopards particularly. I disliked the Shaman that they followed. I also couldn’t understand why the Snow Leopards couldn’t simply conform and be subservient to us. They were inferior in size to us. WE were stronger than them.” 

Mantilo let out a disgusted chuckle at himself and continued. “Greseh came to me and often attempted to speak wisdom into my cruel heart. He truly wanted peace. But I didn’t want to fight for peace. In fact I sewed seeds of war with my mentality and closed off heart. I was a monster...”