Page 104 of It's You
Marcus Saint Germain was one of the oldest elders, holding the title First Wolf, the last alpha, a position of the utmost respect and authority. He had read the lists of the fallen and the bound for as long as Jack could remember, although Jack’s binding had never been read aloud at a Gathering. His mother and Tombeur had seen to that. Better not to draw attention, his mother had explained.
Saint Germain was halfway through the list of the fallen when his parents’ names grabbed his attention.
“Dubois Beauloup joins the fallen, leaving Tallis Beauloup unbound.”
Jack heard the hushed murmurs of surprise among the pack members who didn’t know Dubois had died during thenight. He looked over at the Lac de Coeur pack coldly as they looked uncomfortably away from the Portes de l’Enfer pack. Catching his mother’s reaction, he saw her wince lightly as her late husband’s name was announced. Jack doubted anyone else noticed, but as soon as the next name was read, she raised her eyes to find Tombeur across the table, staring at her. Jack watched as Tombeur’s eyes grew into a goldish-green, before he hastily looked back down at the table. If he kept staring at her, everyone in the Gathering Hall would know his intent. And then Jack guessed that’s exactly what he wanted because he raised his eyes again to Tallis, golden-green and furious as he held her gaze. Tallis sat up straighter in her seat, and Jack watched as her eyes turned quickly to molten lava, copper flecks burning bright.
Others started to notice too, because Jack heard the faint rumble through the crowd. “Tallis…” “Look at Tombeur…” “Tombeur and Tallis…”
They held each other’s eyes without looking down, without faltering or failing.
Unaware of the stir caused by Tallis and Tombeur, Saint Germain finished the list of fallen with the familiar words, borrowed from the Cree, “Ah tey wa chee un kink tay.”And again I will see you.
The white-haired old man bent his head, clasping his hands in front of him, and the room went respectfully silent in tribute. Finally, Saint Germain lifted his head and howled up at the large cutout in the ceiling of the meeting house and was quickly joined by the howls of the other pack members, who raised their voices in final tribute.
Jack sat back down and looked at his mother, whose eyes were back to brown. He flicked his glance to Tombeur, whose eyes were also brown again as he resumed his seat at the council table.
Saint Germain picked up a different list from his seat at the table and turned slowly, smiling at the packs, and Jack could feel the familiar anticipation. This was everyone’s favorite part. Not only was the meeting almost adjourned, which meant drinking, food, bonfires, forest running, and celebration, but everyone liked hearing the names of the newly bound couples who would stand and kiss if they had attended the Gathering in person. And the mostexciting part was the end when Saint Germain would ask for any Gathering bindings to be witnessed, at which point a male and female Roug could stand in the center of the council table and kiss for the first time. Even if the female wasn’t interested in the male, she couldn’t refuse and vice versa. It was a gamble, of course, to see if they’d become bound or not, but very exciting if the mates had chosen well.
There were sixteen new bindings to acknowledge, though only nine of the new couples were in attendance. They all stood when their names were called and treated the Gathering to a kiss, ranging from chaste to passionate, the female half of one couple already showing a sizablelouveteaubump under her breasts.
The crowd whooped and hollered with every kiss, anticipating the end of the Gathering and the possibility of a live binding.
Finally, Saint Germain placed the list of new bindings on the table and walked slowly around the hall, looking up into the bleachers with midnight-dark, focused eyes.
“And now I ask, as I do every year, are there any here who would ask to be bound? Any woman who seeks a man? Any man who seeks a woman? Remember, if your name is spoken, you must join your potential mate in the council ring. You may not refuse. Anyone? Anyone?”
Jack could feel the electricity in the room, the excitement as pack members looked around the room, many of their gazessettling on Jack’s mother and Tombeur, who had made such a scene a few moments before.
“Don’t be shy, now. There’s no way to know if you’re meant to be bound until you give it a try. Don’t any of you young bucks have a pretty thing in mind who’s spurned you once or twice? Come now. Here’s your chance. Look around.”
Jack grinned with the rest of the crowd, looking for any sign of movement. He saw his mother clench her jaw and lightly shake her head, looking at Tombeur, who was trapped in her gaze. Jack was so transfixed on them, he didn’t notice Lela rise beside him.
“Lela Beauloup!” Saint Germain hurried from the opposite side of the room to stand before the set of bleachers that held Jack and his pack. Jack’s neck snapped to the side and jerked up, looking at his little sister standing beside him. She smiled down at him, expectantly, hopefully, and an awful feeling made Jack’s stomach flip over. He turned to look at his brother Julien, who gazed longingly, tenderly at the back of Lela’s head, putting his hands on the bench, ready to stand and accept her offer.
“Who is the lucky Roug?”
“My half brother,” she declared in a firm, proud voice, and Jack felt Julien’s knee nudge his back as he began to stand. “Jacques Beauloup!”
A flurry of excited mutterings rippled like waves around the Gathering Hall as Jack whipped his head around to look at Julien’s crestfallen, quickly angering face. He turned back to Lela, looking at her disbelievingly, and shook his head no, mouthing the words “I can’t.”
“Jacques Beauloup, please rise!”
This is insanity. I’m already bound. My binding was acknowledged.
Jack stood on shaky legs, finally towering over Lela beside him. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it. Jack pulled his away, furious with her.
“I’m bound, Lela,” he growled to her, his face flushing and eyes burning with embarrassment and confusion.
She smiled prettily at him and shrugged.
Jack turned his eyes to Saint Germain, standing on the floor several rows beneath them.
“This is a mistake, Monsieur Saint Germain,” he declared in a strong, clear voice. “I was bound twenty years ago.For what is bound cannot be broken.”
Saint Germain’s bushy, gray eyebrows rose into his hairline as another titter moved through the crowd in fascinated, entertained currents.
“My mother and Tombeur acknowledged the binding in the sacred text.”
