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The Feline Gaze

Page 47

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“Hunting?” My aunt asks.

“No,” he shakes his head. “Just camping.”

He tears up and I realize that the story he’s about to tell is hard for him. He’s struggling to express himself and my heart goes out to him, but I stay silent as he searches for the right words to tell us what happened.

“We were in the woods that day when a group of birds saw us. They thought we were going to fight them for the territory. We didn’t realize that it was out of the bounds of Lyon County,” my uncle says.

“What happened?” Jean’s voice is gentle.

“They swooped down in a group,” he says. He starts to cry as he tells the story. “There were so many of them and so few of us. My mother...she threw her body over mine and protected me while they...while they...there were so many of them,” he repeats.

So that’s why my uncle doesn’t want anyone but tigers here.

That’s why he’s so afraid.

Something terrible happened to him, something horrible, and now he believes that anyone who isn’t like him is a threat or a danger. I’m no psychologist, but I’d venture a guess that when my uncle meets someone who isn’t a shifter, or who is a different kind of shifter than him, that he’s transported back to that time all of those years ago when he felt scared, when he felt afraid.

“I’m so sorry, love,” my aunt whispers. She steps forward and wraps her arms around my uncle. He’s still sitting in his chair and she pulls his head to her chest.

“It’s not fair,” he whispers.

“No, it’s not,” she agrees. “What happened wasn’t very fair at all. It’s not fair that a little boy lo

st his parents. It’s not fair,” she looks at him. “But it’s not fair to deny housing to people just because of who they are, either.”

My uncle thinks about the story he’s shared. In fact, we all do. The look on Alastair’s face says that he’d never heard this story, either. I think we all just supposed that my uncle’s parents passed away of natural causes. Jean is my mother’s sister and Jacob married into the family, so I never really wondered or pushed. I never asked questions about his past because, well, it never really seemed that important to me.

Suddenly, it seems very important.

Suddenly, everything shifts into place.

“Okay,” he finally says. “I’ll call the paper. I’ll retract my statement.” He turns to Matthew and nods. He doesn’t apologize, but he says, “Don’t make me regret this, son.”

“You have my word,” Matthew says. Then he motions for me to move out of the room and the two of us step out. We give my uncle, aunt, and cousins some time together. Matthew and I head down the tiny hallway, down the stairs, and go back outside. We sit down on the big, wide porch wrapped in our soft blankets, and we look out at the beautiful scene around us.

It’s grass and trees for as far as the eye can see. There are hills blanketed with wildflowers and the occasional cow, but for the most part, it’s just open and wild, and I love it. I love this moment. I love being here with Matthew.

“You know,” I say. “My uncle’s confession got me thinking.”

“Is that right?”

“I don’t date,” I look up at him. “I have a sort of rule, actually.”

“Just one night?”

“Just one night,” I agree. “It’s more than that, though. It’s sort of a code for how I live my life.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I don’t connect with people. I keep everyone at a distance because I’m scared of getting hurt, but with you...”

“What about me?”

“I guess I don’t care if you hurt me. I guess the pain would be totally worth it for the chance to get to love you.”

“Is that right?” He asks.

“Yeah,” I nod.



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