Town life went on as usual, with winter now here and here to stay for a while. Temperatures had dropped significantly, but snow was still scarce, much to everyone's relief.

Ezra quite enjoyed the slower pace, even if some miscreants still tried to rob a store or the bank, tried to pull a fast one on some unsuspecting farmer, or simply attempted to hide out in a Territory until things had blown over from wherever they had come from. It kept the seven men busy and sometimes ended up with a few bruises and split lips.

Mostly for those foolish enough to attempt something, but a few times for the regulators, too.

Like this time.

Ezra was nursing a sprained wrist from the latest altercation, which had involved a chase through the town, across the cemetery and nearly to the livery. There was also a bruise on his cheek from a lucky punch, but it was negligible. JD had a bump on the head because the guys had resisted arrest quite harshly, upsetting the sheriff's balance and knocking him into the wall, then the chase had started. They had apprehended their wanted men, had thrown them in jail, Nathan had looked over their injuries, and things had calmed down again.

Nothing new.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

Just another day, another fun story, and Ezra was really looking forward to the end of his shift and a long soak or at least a quick, hot shower. JD was helping to clean up, talking to the people whose property had been damaged by the chase, and Ezra himself was spending the remainder of his shift at the station.

Routine.

Until Mary Travis stepped into the sheriff station.

Ezra rose slowly from his chair, surprised to find the owner of The Clarion here. "Mrs. Travis," he greeted her. "This is a surprise. How can I help you? Has something happened?"

"No, not at all." Mary looked around, as if to make sure they were alone. "I wanted to talk to you."

Oh hell, shot through Ezra's head.

That look in her eyes, the way she wanted to make sure they were alone, and she was a reporter to boot.

Something had happened, but it wasn't something that concerned the Seven. It was just him.

"Me?" he just echoed, masks firmly in place.

She nodded.

He gestured at the chair, smiling politely, blandly. "Please. Take a seat. How can I help?"

Mary took a seat. She tugged a blond strand of hair behind her ear. "I received a package two days ago, accompanied by a letter. It was a quite comprehensive, though outrageously outlandish collection of various… articles, if you want to call them that. As a journalist I wouldn't. Nothing of what I found was seriously researched, based on facts, let alone scientific in any form. The very nature of the articles, and one book, are slanderous at best. Racy, gearing for sensation and sales figures, not information and neutral assessment of facts."

Ezra looked at her, masks unwavering, eyes shielded, the perfect reflection of polite interest. Inside he was pulling slowly away from her, readying himself to run, mentally making a list. It was an automatic reaction. It was his usual reaction, even now, because it was instinct and his need to survive. He just knew what Mary had gotten, where it might have come from, but a small part refused to believe in the truth.

Until she pulled out a letter.

Embossed, on rather expensive ecru paper, though there was no company logo on it, let alone a return address or a sender.

The writing looked faintly familiar, but he was too accustomed to faking everything, even his handwriting, to think she wouldn't have altered her style.

But Ezra knew.

Oh god…

"The letter is rather short and hasn't been signed," Mary said, looking at him with such calm, Ezra was slightly thrown.

By now he would have expected anger and outrage, disgust to look at him, maybe even the first shadows of accusations forming in their depths. There was a kind of outrage there, but not directed at him. It was more like a personal affront, something done to Mary herself, and apparently anonymous letters containing slanderous material were such an affront.

The Clarion was a serious newspaper, known for impartial reports, for clear-cut research, and for not taking any sides. It had surprised Ezra the first time he had read the paper, how it wouldn't push people into an opinion, though it did print letters from its readers, some a little censored when the language became too harsh. Mary didn't take lightly to anyone trying to make her print a certain article, support one group or another, and while she had run favorable articles on the pack, she still kept it professional.

Yes, it was admirable and since the paper sold well, it wasn't a lost cause.

So, using her to spread rumors and lies, print old folk tales and cheap hearsay would get the editor riled up.

"I would have burned it all, but I wanted you to know about this," Mary interrupted his thoughts.

"Burned?" he echoed, mouth dry, lips slightly numb.

She placed the letter on the table, still in its envelope. "I don't give anything on old wife's tales. I know many books were written to scare kids, or adults, those who sell because the sensation of horror they evoke. Carnivals have freak shows for the same reason. Myths and legends are one thing. There is a grain of truth, teaching us about ethics, life and general behavior. Shifters make up a lot of those myths and legends. Some are true, some are absolute make-believe. The package contained nothing of the like. I finds its contents tasteless, horrifying, and downright disgusting. The letter makes it only worse because I know why it was sent."

Ezra opened his mouth to say something, then shut it again. He tried to unclench his hands, his knuckles white against his skin.

Mary leaned forward, expression intense. "I'm not blind, Ezra. Nor am I an innocent. I know who you are to Chris. I know you belong to this pack as much as any of the others. It doesn't matter what you are. These accusations, these so-called truths about you, are nothing but lies. A reporter knows. I'm not after a quick headline to sell, especially on defamation. I can't understand why anyone would want to do this to you, even with your past, but I suspect why it was me they sent the package."

He wet his lower lip. "Mary…"

She held up a hand. "When you came to town, when my father-in-law hired you, I researched shifters. I had to. You were to become an integral part of this town. I also looked more deeply into what a pack is, how it functions, about alphas."

Of course she would have. She was a curious woman and her interest in Chris Larabee hadn't been a secret.

"You are Chris' mate," she said firmly, shocking him again. "Yes, I was interested in him, that was never a secret, but I understood quickly that things between us could never be. Yes, I'm not always comfortable around Chris, which a partner should be. I can accept he is a shifter, I have no problem with it, but he is a Fenris and you know how powerful that makes him, Ezra. You know how it feels to be in his presence, when he switches from calm to protective. I can feel that switch and it scares me sometimes. It's intense. I would never call him a violent man. He would never hurt anyone intentionally. He is a fierce gun fighter, a true protector, but to us mere humans, he is also terrifying." She gave him a small smile, almost apologetic, "But you and him, you are mates. I know that now. And I know what it means."

"You do?" he croaked.

She smiled more at his whispered words. "Yes. I know it's not just a relationship like he might have had it with me. It's far from casual. I can add one and one and easily get to two. I knew something was going on between you two. It grew only stronger in time and he confirmed it when I asked."

"You… asked?" Ezra felt everything spiraling out of control. Mary asked?! Chris?!

"Yes."

"Oh."

Mary gave him an almost patient look, like she would her son, when the boy was particularly dense. "I would have asked you, but I wasn't sure you would really answer. If I asked now, would I get an answer?" she wanted to know.

Ezra felt a tremor run through him. "You already know," he heard himself say, not really answering the question.

"I was given a package full of rubbish and lies, vying for sensation, not facts. And a letter that accuses you, claiming you are an atrocious creature, an abomination and monster."

The words had him swallow back bile rising in his throat. He forcefully folded his hands on the table, nerves on edge, muscles still coiled for a fight or flight reaction.

"Do you even want the answer?"

Mary smiled softly. "You are a friend, Ezra Standish. I've known you for over two years. You are a protector of this town and the Territory. You are part of the Larabee pack and officially appointed by a Section Judge. You are the pack alpha's mate. Yes, I would want to know." When he said nothing, she simply asked, "Are you a crossbreed?"

For a moment Ezra wanted to lie, wanted to spin a story and then run, but it was only a second. He knew he couldn't.

This was his town.

His pack.

His Territory.

There was a fierce sense of loyalty, of belonging, and he would fight tooth and nail to stay. He was done running when trouble reared its ugly head, and this was extremely ugly, or could be soon. He wouldn't leave with his tail between his legs, seeking out greener pastures.

He had friends here. He had his pack and he had, most importantly, his mate.

Had Maude pulled this stunt throughout the first months of his forced appointment as a peacekeeper, he might have reacted as she had predicted. Maybe even after his pardon had come in, though by that time he had become too entangled, especially with Chris.

Now…

Now he wouldn't do what his mother expected.

"Yes," he finally said, meeting Mary's eyes head-on. "Yes, I am a crossbreed."

The editor's smile grew all of a sudden, was warmer now, calm and accepting. "Thank you for telling me, for the truth. And nothing of that package will make it anywhere on a printed pack. Actually, I have burned it already," she added with a grin.

He gaped.

She shrugged. "Whoever is trying to hurt you wanted to use me. I'm not someone to be used. I don't take kindly to such attempts." There was an edge to her voice. "I seek out my own stories to tell. I will judge what to print. The Clarion is not a two-bit paper that has to rely on folk tales and superstition. We have left the Dark Ages behind for a while now. I'm not joining in on a witch hunt."

"That is… laudable," he managed.

Mary chuckled. "It's hard to get into people's heads that serious reporting is an art. We have enough gossip papers."

Ezra rose as Mary did, and when she stepped forward, he didn't retreat. Her hug was unexpected but not unwanted, and he hugged her back.

"Thank you, Ezra."

She gave him a little kiss on the cheek, chuckling at his perplexed expression.

"You are my friend," she repeated. "Not an enemy, never a rival. You and the others, you are good for this town. We are a Territory and we need people like you and the pack. No one gives a damn about what you are, Ezra Standish. You're one of the Seven, peacekeeper, regulator, shifter. And Larabee pack."

Her direct words had him laugh. "There will always be someone with a pitch fork."

"And there will always be someone else to take your side, have your back. In Four Corners, there are more than you think."

Ezra blinked. Mary shook her head with amusement.

"You have absolutely no idea, do you? Ezra, you are very much part of this. All of you are. The town would pick up pitch forks and torches, yes, but against whoever tries to chase any of you away. Some might still have a superstitious nerve in their bodies, but you'd find them more afraid of the Fenris than you."

"Told you," a soft voice said.

Ezra looked past his visitor, finding Vin Tanner slouching in the door. The tracker looked watchful, alert, but still relaxed. Part of him had been aware of someone with them, of a new-arrival, but pack didn't register as dangerous and Vin was his best friend. The crossbreed had instinctive decided not to feel alarmed at the new presence. And damn, the man moved as silently as the big cat he was, even in human form.

Mary gave him a smile. "Hello, Vin."

"Ma'am." He inclined his head and his smile was both open and warning in one.

Mary's nod was an acknowledgement of that. Physically she was no threat. Her eyes were on Ezra again.

"Ezra."

He met her calm, serious expression. "Mrs. Travis."

Her smile was open. "If you ever want to talk." She didn't finish the sentence, just made an inviting gesture. And then she left.

Ezra floundered a little, feeling suddenly a little unsteady.

Vin grinned. "Revelations, Ez?" he drawled.

He pulled himself together by force. "Ah, yes, apparently."

"Nothing new, really."

"Maybe for you," the crossbreed breathed. "This keeps happening at frightening intervals."

He wasn't used to this. Even after having been part of a pack and a family for so long now. At least when it came to outsiders.

Vin pushed away from the wall and walked over to him. "Town's not judgy, Ez. Most of them anyway. Can't be out here. Mary's right. And Maude's not winning."

He looked into the blue eyes. "This won't be her last attempt."

"Let her." The steel in his voice matched Chris' when he had made the same declaration. "We know her game. She won't have a leg to stand on."

Yes, they knew her now.

The door opened again and Nathan walked in, ready to take over from Ezra. His brows rose as he looked at the two men. It wasn't hard to pick up on the fact that something had happened.

"All quiet?" he asked, trying to gauge what had occurred.

Ezra nodded. "Nothing happened."

"Right." And that sounded like he didn't believe it.

"Ezra's having epiphanies," Vin quipped.

Nathan chuckled. "Again?"

Ezra grimaced and gathered his things to make room for Nathan, who was taking over for the rest of the day.

"Anything serious?" Jackson wanted to know.

Vin just looked at Ezra, silently prompting him to talk. The crossbreed hesitated, then handed their resident medic the letter Mary had left behind. Nathan opened it with a curious expression, which quickly turned into something a lot darker. Vin whistled softly, equally unamused, the normally easy air around him gone.

"Maude," he stated, not even making it a question.

Ezra didn't deny, nor confirm, it.

"She's got guts. And a death wish. She'll be lucky if Chris won't just hunt her down and tear her throat out."

And he would. It wasn't an empty threat. Maude was actively trying to drive Ezra out of Four Corners, sever the pack bond, and maybe even endanger his life. No, no maybe about it. If Mary had published those sensationalist articles, Ezra might find himself with a bullet or a knife in his back.

"Talk to Chris before he hears it from somewhere else," Nathan advised. "This is serious. She's out for your blood."

Ezra took back the letter and slid it into the pocket of his coat. "I will," he promised.

Because he didn't lie to their alpha. He wouldn't hide this either.

But it was terrifying to think of Chris' reaction.

tbc...