Page 7 of In Your Eyes
“Yes. That you do.” My father nodded and patted my hand. “I’ve seen your notecards, son. I know how hard you work on memorizing those things and on everything else.” He looked sad, but I didn’t know why.
My mother sighed behind me.
“I’m going to drive Samuel to Miancarem, and then I’ll be back.” My father stood up and walked over to her. He kissed her cheek, as if they wouldn’t see each other for days, and then looked at me. “Let’s go.”
ISHOULDhave known he’d be there. He was, after all, the son of the Miancarem Alpha. But for some reason, I had expected only shifters my age and maybe a year older to be at the young adult gathering, not those who were out of their teens.
Korban Keller had turned twenty-one on January 3. Somewhere along the way, I’d heard his birthday and, despite my best efforts, I’d never forgotten it. And I’d tried.
Most of the shifters congregated next to two big bonfires in the clearing. With everyone standing close together, it took me a few moments to see Korban in the center of the crowd. By the time I noticed him, it was too late to turn back without seeming like a coward in front of him and my peers, so I didn’t dash back to the car, even though that was exactly what I wanted to do.
Instead, I settled for quickly darting my gaze over my shoulder to my father, who was about to drive off, and saying in a loud whisper, “One hour, okay? Come get me in an hour.”
“Samuel, that’s not long enough. The others will be here until the moon is high in the sky, maybe later.”
“Please,” I said desperately, certain Korban had spotted me and was staring at me with those navy eyes. I was turned away from him, so I couldn’t confirm that visually, but I felt his gaze over every inch of my skin.
“I’ll be back at ten,” my father said. “And I hope when I do, you’ll tell me you want to stay later.” His forehead creased with worry. “Please, Samuel. Try.”
He drove off, and I was alone with Korban Keller. Well, I was alone with Korban Keller and dozens of other shifters. But he was the only one I noticed. And I still wasn’t looking in his direction.
Was it shame that made me hyperaware of Korban, or was it my intuition warning me that he was dangerous? I had behaved oddly the other times we’d met, and even though six years had passed since I’d last seen him—I had intentionally avoided going to the regional Alphas’ meeting two years prior—the memories of the time I spent with him were vivid in my mind.
Remembering those hours made me intensely uncomfortable, and yet I’d never been able to stop myself from thinking about them. In the end, I didn’t know why I reacted the way I did to Korban, only that it was wrong, that he was wrong, and that I needed to stay away from him. And yet, despite all the reasons I’d come up with to avoid the gathering, the possibility that I might see Korban hadn’t crossed my mind.
By twenty-one, most shifters were paired off, if not already married. Although the young adult gathering wasn’t stated to be a place exclusively for singles, it was understood that after high school, we were at the age to find a mate, and because packs were generally small, it was helpful to meet other shifters in the area and, hopefully, find a suitable match. Maybe Korban was there because he was stillsingle—another thing I inexplicably knew about him andunfortunately couldn’t forget.
Reaching deep within myself, I called on my training and schooled my features. I was going to be Alpha. That meant I had to appear controlled, strong, and confident. The members of my pack had to have faith in my ability to lead, and the members of the other packs had to know I wasn’t someone to be challenged. With those reminders front and center in my mind, I turned around and looked at the shifters gathered around the fires, and not at Korban.
Based on my quick assessment, everyone was huddled with their own packs. It made sense that early in the night, people would still be with those they knew. I also confirmed that my suspicion about the ages of the shifters present was correct, at least with regard to the members of the Yafenack pack. Only shifters who had graduated with me and those who had graduated the year prior were there, and all of them were single.
So unless the other packs were including a larger age group in the gathering, there was no reason for Korban to be there. I owed it to my pack to monitor him and make sure he wouldn’t do anything unscrupulous. Trying to remain inconspicuous, I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. He was laughing and holding court, surrounded by what looked like adoring fans who hung on his every word and, though it was too dark and he was too far away for me to be certain, he seemed to be staring at me. Damn him for putting me on edge once again.
I was so distracted by Korban’s presence that I somehow missed the other person outside of my age group at the gathering.
“Samuel Goodwin, isn’t it?”
I flipped around at the sound of the voice right behind me and saw Dirk Keller, Korban’s father and Alpha of the Miancarem pack.
“Oh, uh, Mr. Keller, hello.” My voice went a little high-pitched at the end, so I cleared my throat, sucked in a deep breath, and reminded myself never to show weakness to a potential adversary. “Thank you for hosting this gathering,” I said, internally patting myself on the back for remembering my manners. “The Yafenack pack is grateful.” I could speak on behalf of the pack. My father was Alpha, after all, and he was always telling me how important it was to remember the pack would eventually be mine to lead.
“Was that your father I saw rushing off?” he said.
I didn’t like his tone. “Yes.” I nodded. “He drove me here.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t take the time to say hello to me.” He didn’t look at my face as he spoke, instead looking over my shoulder to where my father’s car had been. “But I gather he’s too busy rubbing elbows with half-souls to have time to greet a fellow Alpha.”
“He didn’t realize you were here,” I said quickly, wanting to make sure my father didn’t come across as rude. He abhorred rudeness in any form.
He also detested the use of the term half-soul, saying it was derogatory to humans. We’d learned never to say the epithet in our house, but occasionally, I still heard it from pack members. If they uttered it within hearing distance of my father, they were swiftly reprimanded. I didn’t feel it would be appropriate for me to do the same to the Miancarem Alpha on his own pack lands, so I focused on explaining my father’s behavior.
“We understood the gathering to be for young adults only,” I said, glancing toward the spot where Korban had been standing. He was gone. A chill washed over me. “But I’ll, uh, make sure to pass on your regards.”
“What regard?” he scoffed. “I heard from Phillip Jones that Tom Goodwin is continuing to meet with half-souls. I have no regard for that.”
Phillip Jones was the brother of Patrick Jones, one of our new pack members. He’d joined us about a year earlier, he and his family. Reflecting back, I remembered my father saying he’d come over from the Miancarem pack. I hadn’t asked why because it wasn’t that unusual; we’d had several different families move over from their pack to ours. I assumed it was the nature of being relatively near each other. Although when I thought about it, I realized I couldn’t recall anyone leaving the Yafenack pack other than a couple of people who had mated with someone from a distant pack.
Before I could figure out how to respond to Dirk Keller, I felt heat at my back.
