“I know.”
He nods again, looking toward the pack house. “Have you seen Cross yet?”
I fight to keep my dread off of my face. “I'm hoping not to, to be honest. I don't think seeing me will help the situation.”
He looks at me for a long moment, taking in every inch of my worn presence. “Maybe, maybe not. He's not the same. He's doing this because it's necessary. Everybody knows where his heart is.”
“That's why he doesn't need to see me. He knows I'm here. That's enough for the bond, ours and the pack's.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” he repeats.
“Can you not?” I ask, rolling my eyes. “You might be the next Seer, but you're just Cross's little brother to me, and that mystical ominous shit is obnoxious.”
He laughs and reaches forward to squeeze my shoulder. “I'm glad to see you, Parker. You should come around more.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Sure.”
“I mean it. It would be a good thing.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” I give his words back to him with a small smile. “I'm going to go see my mom before everyone starts gathering. I'll say goodbye before I leave when this is over.”
“You better.”
I don't get a chance to go to the house I grew up in to see my mother. She finds me first and makes such a scene that other people start crowding around us to say hello. It's overwhelming. Everyone's words are friendly, if a little too sympathetic. It grates on me in the worst way and within minutes, I truly regret coming back.
Mom is the first to notice the wild look in my eyes.
“Alright people, that's about enough sharing. I haven't seen my son for over a year and he comes home thin as a rail. I'm taking him home for a decent meal.”
The crowd lets loose their hold on me and I let Mom pull me in the direction of home.
“Sorry about that, honey,” she says softly. “I was just so happy to see you. I didn't think everyone else would want to see you, too. You are skinny. Don't you eat out there?”
“I eat, Mom,” I assure her. “Promise. I hunt all the time.”
She stops in her tracks and turns sharply around to face me. “Hunting isn't the same as eating, Parker. Are you eating?”
“I eat. Don't worry.”
She huffs and continues pulling me down the way. “That's all I do. That's all you'll let me do. I know you're not a little boy anymore, but it's still my job to look after you. Especially since no one else, including you, will do it.”
My beautiful, wonderful, amazing mother shoves me down into a chair at the kitchen table when we get to her house and puts a plate in front of me. A plate full of the very meal I last ate at this table stares at me, making my mouth water. Unlike last time, it's warm, as if she's just pulled it from the oven. I don't even use a fork.
“You may live like an animal out in those woods, Parker, but you will eat like a man.” Mom hands me a napkin and a fork.
“Sorry,” I mumble with my mouth full of spaghetti.
“Have you seen him?” she asks, and I shake my head.
“She's here,” she continues.
I swallow. Loudly. “I know. I'm here because I was called.”
“He needs you, Parker.”
I sigh so heavily that it feels like the floor might rise up around me. “He needs a Luna. He needs this pack.”
“And what doyouneed?” she insists.
