Filthy rich werewolves by Taylor Caine novel Chapter 85

GRACE

I’m stunned. I am not expecting the place where I met Jay to be the place where his father had passed away.

“I'm so sorry," I whisper.

"He only had himself to blame for dying.” Jay shrugs. “Sister, there is no need for you to apologize," Jason says in a low voice.

I suspect the story is not so simple as Jay depicts it. ‘He only had himself to blame?’ that sounds ominous. I’m surprised. I didn't been expect him to describe his father's death that way.

“Jay, I’m not sure what you mean by blaming him, perhaps it was some accident—“

“Was it? I don’t think so. He fell in love with someone he shouldn't have fallen in love with, then when she discovered that he was useless, he was cast aside. She broke their bond. Even knowing the damage it would do to her, she’d rather endure that pain than another moment with him. It didn't matter even that he kneeled down and begged. No,” Jason’s eyes darken into an abyss. “No, that’s not entirely true. The more he groveled and begged, the more she despised him.” He shakes his head. “In the end, he died in despair. His weakness caused it. And he froze to death in the snow."

Jason's expression is indifferent as he talks about a man—his own father!—succumbing to hypothermia. Even his voice is as calm as usual. But… this was his father!

And dying from exposure…that doesn’t make sense.

“Is there a reason he didn’t shift?”

Jason looks at me coldly.

That look. It’s how he looked the first time I saw him. He’d been distant then too. And… detached.

"Tell me,” he goads. “Did he not bring it upon himself?"

I’m not sure I can reply to that because from the way it sounds, I’m inclined to agree. Wolves crave the cold. And a powerful male would have no trouble shifting and recovering.

”Is that woman your mother?” I ask him.

He’s silent. But there’s a flash of pain in his eyes.

And I have my answer.

I don't know how to comfort him, feeling that at this moment any words would be useless.

I stand slowly. His eyes are gold and he’s on edge. I move slowly around the table. I’m not afraid of Jay, per say, but he’s very raw right now and I tread carefully.