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I ached to go after him, but he wanted to be alone, and I understood why.
“He’ll be okay.” Jace tried to pull me close, but I stepped out of his reach, apologizing with my eyes. If I couldn’t touch Marc, I couldn’t touch him, even for innocent comfort. Both because that wouldn’t be fair to Marc, and because where comfort was concerned, there didn’t seem to be much innocence left between me and Jace.
“I’m not sure any of us will be,” I whispered, as we passed Malone’s lodgings.
The rental van was parked in front of our cabin, with Umberto Di Carlo and my father in the front seats. As we approached, the sliding door opened and Mateo Di Carlo got out to give me a hug, while two of his fellow enforcers nodded in greeting.
“Hey, Faythe, how are you holding up?”
“I’m fine, Teo. Thanks.” People asked me that all the time now, and Jace got the same questions. My brother Ethan—Jace’s lifelong best friend—was only three weeks in the ground, and we’d seen so much tragedy and disaster since his death that we’d had to put true mourning on hold. But his absence still snuck up on me at night, when I was lonely and needed someone to talk to. In many ways, Ethan had been the soul of our family, much as my mother was the heart, and his death had seared a hole through my own chest. Sometimes I thought we’d never truly recover, as a family or as a Pride.
“Did Marc come through here?” I asked, as my father rounded the front of the van.
“I thought he was with you.” He took the key I offered while the guys helped Bert Di Carlo with the luggage.
“He was. He just…needed some time to himself. He’ll be back soon.”
He raised one graying eyebrow, then nodded and unlocked the front door. I followed him into the living room, glancing around at the familiar worn furniture and outdated kitchen appliances. It looked about the same as it had when we’d left—was it really just three months ago?—and without my werecat’s nose, I couldn’t even smell the residual blood.
Ethan’s blood. My brother had been gored here, defending me and Kaci. And now he was gone. For a moment I got lost in the memory, and in the pain of my own loss. So much had changed in so short a time. Very little of it for the better.
“Faythe?” My father frowned at me as the guys trooped in with our luggage. “Quarters will be a little cramped, since we’re doubling up.” Last time, only four territories had been represented; this time, all ten Alphas were coming, with enforcer entourages. “I’m putting you, Marc, and Jace in the far bedroom, but I’m guessing Jace won’t mind taking the couch, if you think that would be…more prudent.”
“Yeah, about that…” My hands twisted together, in spite of my own best efforts to keep them still. To remain calm. Then I forged ahead before I could back out. “Dad, I need to talk to you.” I half whispered, hoping the others wouldn’t hear. Though they’d find out soon enough, anyway. “In private.”
Jace glanced at me on his way to the first bedroom, carrying four suitcases at once. My father took one look at my face and nodded. “Outside?”
“Sure.” I hunched into my coat and followed him back into the February cold, so much sharper and bitterer than it had been in November.
My dad clomped down the steps in hiking boots and jeans. It was too cold for his traditional suit and dress shoes, though he’d probably change before heading to the main lodge. “What’s wrong, kitten?” He slid one strong arm around my shoulders, and I leaned into him as we walked, treasuring the voluntary physical contact after spending most of the past week virtually untouched.
But I waited until we were on the edge of the tree line—out of casual earshot—to answer, trying to come up with an acceptable opening line while we walked. When my dad finally stopped and faced me, I made myself meet his gaze. Long gone were the days when I would stare at the ground and whisper confessions like a naughty little girl, even if that’s exactly what I felt like. I’d made a very adult mistake—which necessitated a very adult decision I had yet to make.
“Faythe…?” My father prodded, and I could read growing concern in his crinkled forehead and the tense line of his jaw. He even seemed to have more silver in the gray streaks at his temples. “Is this about Marc?”
“Yeah. Um, things have gotten a little complicated between me and Marc.” I crossed my arms over my chest to hold my coat closed. “And Jace…”
“Jace?” My dad blinked, and I saw the exact moment understanding surfaced behind his eyes. He closed them, and his next exhale was long and very, very heavy. He glanced at the cabin, then motioned for me to follow him into the woods, where he stopped before we lost sight of the van. “How long?”
“Since the day Ethan…” I leaned with my palm on a bare tree trunk. I couldn’t finish that sentence. “But I’m not… We’re not… I don’t think we need to get into details here, Daddy, but Jace and I…connected, and it’s not… Okay, it is physical, to some extent, but it’s more than that. A lot more.”
He sighed again and looked at me with his poker face in place, and something in my chest tightened. I desperately wanted to be able to read his reaction. “And Marc knows?”
“Yeah.” I took a deep breath, preparing to say the worst part. “As does half the council.”
“What?” His poker face collapsed beneath bold lines of anger and bewilderment.
“He’ll be okay.” Jace tried to pull me close, but I stepped out of his reach, apologizing with my eyes. If I couldn’t touch Marc, I couldn’t touch him, even for innocent comfort. Both because that wouldn’t be fair to Marc, and because where comfort was concerned, there didn’t seem to be much innocence left between me and Jace.
“I’m not sure any of us will be,” I whispered, as we passed Malone’s lodgings.
The rental van was parked in front of our cabin, with Umberto Di Carlo and my father in the front seats. As we approached, the sliding door opened and Mateo Di Carlo got out to give me a hug, while two of his fellow enforcers nodded in greeting.
“Hey, Faythe, how are you holding up?”
“I’m fine, Teo. Thanks.” People asked me that all the time now, and Jace got the same questions. My brother Ethan—Jace’s lifelong best friend—was only three weeks in the ground, and we’d seen so much tragedy and disaster since his death that we’d had to put true mourning on hold. But his absence still snuck up on me at night, when I was lonely and needed someone to talk to. In many ways, Ethan had been the soul of our family, much as my mother was the heart, and his death had seared a hole through my own chest. Sometimes I thought we’d never truly recover, as a family or as a Pride.
“Did Marc come through here?” I asked, as my father rounded the front of the van.
“I thought he was with you.” He took the key I offered while the guys helped Bert Di Carlo with the luggage.
“He was. He just…needed some time to himself. He’ll be back soon.”
He raised one graying eyebrow, then nodded and unlocked the front door. I followed him into the living room, glancing around at the familiar worn furniture and outdated kitchen appliances. It looked about the same as it had when we’d left—was it really just three months ago?—and without my werecat’s nose, I couldn’t even smell the residual blood.
Ethan’s blood. My brother had been gored here, defending me and Kaci. And now he was gone. For a moment I got lost in the memory, and in the pain of my own loss. So much had changed in so short a time. Very little of it for the better.
“Faythe?” My father frowned at me as the guys trooped in with our luggage. “Quarters will be a little cramped, since we’re doubling up.” Last time, only four territories had been represented; this time, all ten Alphas were coming, with enforcer entourages. “I’m putting you, Marc, and Jace in the far bedroom, but I’m guessing Jace won’t mind taking the couch, if you think that would be…more prudent.”
“Yeah, about that…” My hands twisted together, in spite of my own best efforts to keep them still. To remain calm. Then I forged ahead before I could back out. “Dad, I need to talk to you.” I half whispered, hoping the others wouldn’t hear. Though they’d find out soon enough, anyway. “In private.”
Jace glanced at me on his way to the first bedroom, carrying four suitcases at once. My father took one look at my face and nodded. “Outside?”
“Sure.” I hunched into my coat and followed him back into the February cold, so much sharper and bitterer than it had been in November.
My dad clomped down the steps in hiking boots and jeans. It was too cold for his traditional suit and dress shoes, though he’d probably change before heading to the main lodge. “What’s wrong, kitten?” He slid one strong arm around my shoulders, and I leaned into him as we walked, treasuring the voluntary physical contact after spending most of the past week virtually untouched.
But I waited until we were on the edge of the tree line—out of casual earshot—to answer, trying to come up with an acceptable opening line while we walked. When my dad finally stopped and faced me, I made myself meet his gaze. Long gone were the days when I would stare at the ground and whisper confessions like a naughty little girl, even if that’s exactly what I felt like. I’d made a very adult mistake—which necessitated a very adult decision I had yet to make.
“Faythe…?” My father prodded, and I could read growing concern in his crinkled forehead and the tense line of his jaw. He even seemed to have more silver in the gray streaks at his temples. “Is this about Marc?”
“Yeah. Um, things have gotten a little complicated between me and Marc.” I crossed my arms over my chest to hold my coat closed. “And Jace…”
“Jace?” My dad blinked, and I saw the exact moment understanding surfaced behind his eyes. He closed them, and his next exhale was long and very, very heavy. He glanced at the cabin, then motioned for me to follow him into the woods, where he stopped before we lost sight of the van. “How long?”
“Since the day Ethan…” I leaned with my palm on a bare tree trunk. I couldn’t finish that sentence. “But I’m not… We’re not… I don’t think we need to get into details here, Daddy, but Jace and I…connected, and it’s not… Okay, it is physical, to some extent, but it’s more than that. A lot more.”
He sighed again and looked at me with his poker face in place, and something in my chest tightened. I desperately wanted to be able to read his reaction. “And Marc knows?”
“Yeah.” I took a deep breath, preparing to say the worst part. “As does half the council.”
“What?” His poker face collapsed beneath bold lines of anger and bewilderment.
