Page 97 of It's You
“I had no idea about Natalia.”
“Some sad shit. They’re a bad pack, Jacques.”
“You heard about my father?”
“Aw, shit. Did he go back up there again? I already dragged his ass back to Tallis once. Goddamn that man.”
“Wait. What?” Jack’s plate clattered to the floor as he sat up on the edge of his seat, holding Tombeur’s eyes.
“How do you think Natalia got into that shit?”
“My father?”
Tombeur nodded.
“Does Julien know?”
“I have no idea. I assumed so.”
Jack stood up. “You’re saying my father got Natalia into that shit?”
“I’m pretty sure. They worked at the store together. Drove in and out of work together.”
“Fuck,” Jack snarled, running his hands through his hair. “What a goddamned mess.”
Tombeur furrowed his brows, looking up at Jack. “This what you came to talk about?”
“No. But that…that’ll have to wait. My dad’s been missing for days. My mom can’t find him.”
Tombeur nodded solemnly. “You think he’s up there?”
“I do now. Where’s that pack? The bad one?”
“They’re up by Lac du Coeur. Twenty-five miles or so, as the crow flies. No good roads for driving, though, Jacques. We’re better running.”
“We?”
“Now, you didn’t think I’d let you go alone, did you?”
Jack huffed once and nodded, relieved to have Tombeur’s company and glad he hadn’t shared his suspicions about Julien’s parentage. He knew how unhappy his parents had been, and anyway, Jack loved Tombeur like a father. Their secret would keep for another day.
Roug running with Tombeur was,next to being with Darcy, Jack’s favorite thing in the whole world. The rush of wind through his fur, the intense smells of the forest, animals, plants, even humans far away. He could hear every creeping sound, every footfall, every howl and growl. Huge, heavily padded feet rushed over the ground bipedally, and his eyes kept him safe from obstructions. He followed behind Tombeur as he had a million times before.
But unlike other runs, when he was totally focused on the forest, the ground, the smells, and the sounds, tonight his head was a jumble of human thoughts that couldn’t be quelled by the shift.
His mother had broken the binding.
His father had broken the binding.
Tombeur had broken his binding too.
Jack thought of Darcy rowing away from him, faster and faster, and his heart hardened.
For two decades, Jack had thought of no one but her, his whole life driven by his belief in the sanctity of the binding. He had stayed away for her. He had learned control for her. He had devised a plan and amassed the funds to make it work. Every moment of his adult life had been spent in pursuit of realizing his connection to her, being with her, figuring out how to live in her world. Every moment spent nurturing and encouraging the love he felt for her. Every moment living for her.
For what?
He was surrounded by others who had been unhappy, who had abandoned their mates, broken their sacred bond. What was he holding on for?
