Wolf Bound

Chapter 27: The Lone Wolf's Tale Pt. 2

This is part two of a special two-part chapter written in third person POV! Can you guys tell I struggle with third person yet? 😂

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There wasn't a day that passed where Vincent didn't think about his mother. He had no idea whether he should have resented her, forgiven her, or sympathized. Six years wasn't enough to dwell on it, especially now that he was a ripe age of thirteen-years-old.

No one came to look for him. No one came to look for his mother either. Not Íngrid, not William. None of them. Did they ever take the time out of their day to look at all? Did they ever wonder why he and Mariana disappeared? Were they worried? He didn't know.

Perhaps Calamitous had gotten in contact with Valor, and they didn't want him back. After all, Mariana wasn't there anymore. She fled without a second thought. Maybe Amaruq and Lady Teresa found out no one knew where she went. Maybe it was better that way.

"Vincent"—Vincent heard Lady Teresa call his name over his head from the window above him—"you're skipping out on dinner again? Are you not hungry?"

Vincent's muscles tensed as he stopped tying his shoes. He breathed out a sigh and looked up, staring into her eyes. She challenged him with her gaze. It was pointed, questioning, and firm. Making him choose his next words wisely.

"I'd like to go for a run if that's okay with you," he said.

She narrowed her eyes, watching over him like a hawk. She was going to say no. He could feel it. Six years may not have been enough to understand his mother's decision, but it was certainly enough to learn to read Lady Teresa's body language.

"Mom, I think it'll be fine. I'll go along with him. Is that okay, Vincent?" another voice cut in. When Vincent looked over, he spotted the only person he'd grown an attachment to since he'd been here. Here Amaury was, riding in like his avenging angel to save him, as always.

Lady Teresa shot Amaury a look with her eyebrow raised. Amaury nodded his head and rested a hand on her shoulder. They shared some sort of unspoken communication Vincent still couldn't understand, even if he cared enough to. Regardless, Amaury's words seemed to have swayed her decision.

"Fine." She sighed. "But I'd genuinely appreciate it, if you didn't keep running off on your own without notifying one of us, Vincent. Communicate. That is all that is asked of you. Okay?"

"Yes, Lady Teresa. I'm sorry." Vincent slipped his hands into his khaki pockets and glanced at the ground. He kicked the gravel under his sneakers, watching the dust particles float into the air. It was all he could until she no longer scorned him with her eyes.

When would she have enough? He'd often wondered the answer to that question. They'd been dealing with his tardiness since Amaury's wolf stumbled upon him outside the entrance—cold, hungry, and confused. Amaury had a hard time removing his eyes off of his small frame.

He hardly spoke. When he did, he asked for his mother. But he never got her. Still now, Vincent always apologized then regressed back into his old ways the next day. Lady Teresa knew that very well, though she accepted his apologies anyways. It was a basic routine for them.

"I want you to at least fill your stomach when you get back. You cannot become a strong, healthy wolf if you do not eat." Vincent was so lost in thought, he didn't notice Amaury and Teresa, had walked outside, and were now in his face. He stumbled back, putting distance in between them.

"I've already eaten this morning."

"One meal?" she questioned.

"You never said how much I had to eat. . . But I am taking care of myself. Just like you asked. I promise. I'm just not hungry right now." It was clear Vincent wasn't going to change his stance on the matter.