Page 50 of It’s You

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 most exciting 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 sizable louveteau bump 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 gazes settling 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.”

Jack’s mother and Tombeur stood as Saint Germain turned to them.

“This is so?”

Tallis and Tombeur nodded solemnly, and Jack expelled a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

Saint Germain’s eyes narrowed as he looked back up at Lela. His voice was falsely light with strong undercurrents of irritation.

“Lela Beauloup. You waste my time, louveteau . You cannot bind yourself to an already-bound man. You should know this.” He turned away from her dismissively.

“Wait!” she exclaimed, and Saint Germain turned back to face her. “None of us have ever seen his mate. Not in twenty years. If he can’t produce her, I submit that she must have died. I want him to spark to me.”

The crowd murmured, taking in this new information and processing it.

Saint Germain wrinkled his forehead and turned to Jack. “Can you produce her? Your mate?”

Jack’s nostrils flared, thinking of Darcy. “Not now. I?—”

“Perhaps she is ill. Can you produce her within one week? One month?”

Jack took a deep breath and finally answered through clenched teeth. “I cannot.”

“You say you have a mate, but you cannot produce her. I don’t doubt you had a mate.

I would never question the word of Tombeur Lesauvage or Tallis Beauloup, honorable council members.

But perhaps she died, as Lela Beauloup suggests.

Perhaps a new woman is too much work, and you prefer to remain unbound?

” He waggled his finger at Jack and smiled merrily.

He tapped his finger against his lips, considering the case for a moment before gesturing to the council table with a flourish.

“I am skeptical about your claimed binding. You will join Lela Beauloup in the council ring, and you will let her spark to you to see if you may be bound to her.”

Lela had been holding her breath, and now she released it, looking up at Jack with a happy smile.

Jack sneered at her, his face sour. Not only was this a waste of time because she wouldn’t be able to bind to him, but it was drawing attention to his situation.

A situation he’d successfully kept private and silent for all of his adult life.

He reluctantly followed a bouncy Lela down the stairs and onto the floor, directed by Saint Germain to pass through the narrow walkway in the open horseshoe of the table, into the center of the council ring.

They stood before each other.

“This is madness, Lela,” he whisper-growled. “You know I’m bound.”

“Ah, ah, ah! Our male doesn’t appear too pleased!” Saint Germain teased to the delight of the crowd.

“It’s the only way I’ll know for sure.” She breathed, her eyes wide and hopeful, burning for him, even as his stayed a dull, neutral brown.

“Let’s just get it over with,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “Close your eyes.”

She complied, closing her eyes and leaning her face toward him. The crowd quieted down immediately.

Saint Germain waited until the room was silent before reciting the ancient words, “If she be for me, let my heart stop beating. If I be for her, let it be born again.”

Jack took a deep breath and sighed, looking at Lela’s upturned face, then gently pressed his lips to hers as the crowd watched in breathless anticipation.

After a moment, he stepped back from her, and her eyes opened in disappointed brown to regard his.

“I told you,” he said quietly, sorry for the shattered, confused look in her eyes. “I’m already bound. For what is bound cannot be broken .”

The crowd grumbled in disappointment. There would be no passionate kiss in the ring today. No binding to celebrate tonight with catcalls and pranks.

Jack turned his back to walk away from her, out of the council ring, when her voice stopped him.

“I demand a re-binding!” Lela demanded in a loud, desperate snarl that reverberated off the rafters of the old hall.

Saint Germain, who had been watching the proceedings with stunned interest, furrowed his brows at Jack, motioning him to return to the center of the council ring. The crowd went wild with buzzing noise, both at the spectacle that Lela had created and Jack’s reaction.

Jack strode to his mother, whose face registered regret and grief, her fingers curling into fists on top of the table. “What’s a re-binding? Maman ? What’s a re-binding?”

Tallis lifted her head and held Jack’s eyes. He could see that whatever it was, it wasn’t going to be good for him and Darcy. She stood up, and the crowd noise dimmed so that she could speak.

“Demanding a re-binding is equal to calling Tombeur Lesauvage and Tallis Beauloup liars. We acknowledged this binding many years ago. I pledge to you that it is still intact.” She shot Lela a look that would wither live blooms, but Lela smirked and looked away.

“My daughter is grieving the loss of her father. She doesn’t know what she’s?—”

“I demand a re-binding!” Lela howled, throwing her head back, to the delight of the crowd, who started chanting, “Re-binding! Re-binding!”

Jack’s eyes burned as he stared at Lela, feeling betrayed, his claws protracting as he considered doing her real harm. He let them drop a little, staring at her with menace.

Saint Germain joined Jack and Lela in the council ring and put up his hands to quiet the crowd.

“Sheath ’em,” he growled softly at Jack.

Jack concentrated on retracting the claws, nostrils flaring in frustration and anger as he stared back at Saint Germain.