Running with the alphas.., p.9
Running with the Alpha's Son, page 9
When we pull apart, Jasper holds my face, his thumbs soft on my cheeks. “I’m sorry tonight has been so hectic.”
“It’s not your fault. Like you said, this is a pack event. I just wish you were able to celebrate your birthday properly and…”
“What?”
“Well, it’s hard after being apart for so long. All I want is this.” I wrap my arms around him a little tighter. “But there’s so much small talk and noise, and politics. I keep thinking about Aisha and—”
“I know. I’m sorry that happened. I’ll speak to her tomorrow.”
We lean our foreheads together and his breath is a warm comfort on my lips.
“I just wish it could be us. Without all the rest.”
“Me too.”
We kiss again, a little more slowly this time, a little less playful, as if we’re trying to kiss away our problems.
“Is this a bad time?”
Jasper’s lips leave mine and I turn to find Melissa, a smug grin plastered on her otherwise welcoming face.
“Sorry,” she says. “I know you were having a moment. It’s just Mr. and Mrs. Fastolf wanted to wish you a happy birthday in person before they had to leave.”
I look to Jasper.
“Annette Fastolf is our foreign secretary and grand emissary in the north. She and Mr. Fastolf live in Rochester.”
“They need to get going if they’re going to get home before dawn,” Melissa finishes the thought. “Jasper?”
She gestures to the door but Jasper waits a beat, hesitant to leave me.
“Will you be okay?”
“Yes, go.”
I shove him gently and he takes my hand, holding on as long as he can until we’re standing with our arms outstretched, our fingers unable to keep their grip, and we break apart. He glances back one more time before slipping through the door and vanishing back into the party.
I can’t quite bear to go back in. Now that the cake has been served and night has settled in, onyx and endless over New York, the guests have gone inside for the most part. Only a couple of stragglers remain on the terrace and finally it feels quiet. The fuzz and the clouds have receded, and despite the dull throb that remains, I can stop focusing so much energy on keeping the noise at bay. I take a few deep breaths right down into the pit of my stomach.
Why does everything have to be so complicated? Maybe I should have expected this. After chasing Jasper for so long—so long I nearly gave up and turned back—I almost can’t believe how little thought I’ve given to what our future might hold. Someday, Jasper will be the alpha and I will be at his side, a figurehead, responsible for the pack, for our people. How am I supposed to lead when I can barely get through one night as Jasper’s officially recognized mate? Am I just not cut out for this life?
I never really wanted a boyfriend or a relationship until I met Jasper, and when I did I went all in. But there are so many strings, I’m like reverse-Pinocchio. You can hold me down.
The metal railing is cold under my hands as I lean against it. In the distance cars speed along FDR Drive, their head- and taillights stretching into streaks of color. Manhattan looks kind of small from here, but I know it isn’t. There are over a million people on that island. How many of them are wolves? And how many more wolves are out there—in our pack, the packs at our borders, and beyond? How many rogues?
The moon is a big ball of cheese above me. I wonder if the gods are sitting in their palace looking down on me too. For some reason they’ve seen fit to gift me this power, this connection to all of wolfkind. And for what? So I can be responsible for even more wolves. But how can I do that when I don’t feel up to leading a single pack? And how do I start when my powers feel like more of a burden than anything else, a persistent migraine. Unwieldy, uncontrollable, unbearable.
With a heavy sigh I let my head drop. There are too many thoughts and too many doubts. Even without the noise my head aches.
All I want is to spend time with Jasper and figure out who we are when we’re together. None of the rest of it matters. Not when it’s this hard.
“It’s a beautiful night,” a smooth, male-sounding voice says. I spin to find Walter Bridgers standing a foot away. “Don’t you think?”
“Uh, yeah. I guess.”
“You don’t seem particularly joyful.”
Without asking if I’m in the mood for company Walter steps to my side, placing one calm hand on the railing.
“It’s a nice night,” I concede, wishing he’d leave me alone.
“It’s funny. For someone of your…stature, I would have thought all this would be a little more appealing.”
My stature? What the actual? “Excuse me?”
He shrugs and continues facing out to the water. “You’ve worked hard to get here, Maximilian. After everything you’ve done to reach these lofty heights, I expected you’d be a little more…grateful.”
What is this dude on?
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” He turns to face me, grinning like the devil. “Hmm?” He leans closer. “All of this. The parties, the connections. The alpha’s ear?”
I shake my damn head. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know you’re good at what you do.” He actually bumps his shoulders into mine, as if we’re old friends, as if we’re anywhere near being on the same page. “Somehow you’ve managed to claw your way from the soil and the sod into the alpha’s house. You’ve bent his ear. Turned his attention away from what really matters. Swayed him to all your modern, progressive ideals.”
My whole body is quivering—from anger or fear, I’m not sure. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
His smile drops, his face suddenly grave. “But I think I do, boy.”
“I need to go. If Jasper finds out you’re—”
Before I can step away his clawed hand grabs my upper arm in a viselike grip. I grunt but am powerless to extricate myself.
“Not so fast,” he says, a violent whisper. “I’ve been at the helm of this pack for a long time, boy. A long time. And I’ve dealt with more than my fair share of weeds like you. You sprout through the gaps in the concrete hoping to weasel your way to notoriety, to prove you’re somebody. But the truth is you’re nothing. You were born nothing and you will remain nothing.”
I tug harder, trying to free myself. “Get your hand off me.”
“You think you can do what you did to my son and get away with it?” he says, his fangs long and lashing. “I’ll stomp you out like I’ve stomped out every upstart who came before you. I’ll take everything you hold dear and destroy it.”
“If the alpha knew you were talking to me like this—”
“The alpha?” he says, almost laughing. “You think the alpha can save you. You have no idea where the real power lies.”
“Max?” Jasper’s voice is music to my ears. In a flash, Walter has released me and is smiling, acting cordially, as if nothing untoward had ever happened. Jasper steps toward us, confused but not the right level of worry considering what Walter just said. He mustn’t’ve caught much of our conversation. “Everything okay?”
“Wonderful,” Walter says with a flick of his hand. “A perfect evening. I was just acquainting myself with your astute young mate.” Jasper glances between us while I rub my arm. Walter has definitely left a bruise. “A wonderful addition to the pack’s royal family.”
“Thank you,” Jasper says curiously, as if he isn’t quite buying Walter’s act. Good.
“The two of you will have a bright, history-making future ahead of you, I’m sure.”
Why did that sound like a threat?
“You’re very kind,” Jasper says, bowing ever so slightly, then turning to me. “Max, your parents were asking after you. Shall we?”
“Yeah, okay.”
I slip past Walter and join Jasper as he makes his way to the door, but turn back one last time to find Walter still staring absolute daggers in my direction, grinning maniacally, and I’m pretty sure his fangs have elongated once more.
I expected him to be angry about what happened to Clayton but I never thought he would be outrightly hostile—and in a public setting. He mustn’t be afraid of much.
As we make our way back into the party, nodding at Jasper’s guests and smiling like good figureheads, I can’t help remembering what Walter said. You have no idea where the real power lies?
All of my life I thought Jericho was the ultimate power, the end of the line, top of the heap. If I was wrong…who is?
THE HIGH ROAD
“You have to go already?” I ask.
Jasper leans his back on the window of his car. We’re out front of my house the day after his birthday party.
“I didn’t know you had to go so soon.”
Jasper runs a hand through his hair. “I thought I had a few more days but Alpha Jackson of the South Ridge Pack suddenly became available and my father wants me to ensure our southern border is secured before the semester starts back up.”
“Right.” More pack business. Of course.
Jasper and I have been officially together for around three months and in that time we’ve seen each other, what, four times in person? With all the commotion and pack duties, last night hardly counts.
He reaches for my hand, slipping his fingers between mine. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not ideal.”
“It’s not your fault,” I say. “There’s a lot going on. I just wish…”
With his free hand he lifts my chin. “I know. I want that too.”
“You have to go right away?”
“If I want to hit the southern border in time for dinner with Alpha Jackson.”
With a huff, I roll my shoulders back and stare up at the fluffy clouds dotting the otherwise perfect sky. “We haven’t even debriefed about the party. Jasper, I need to tell you what Walter Bridgers said to me.”
Jasper’s eyes narrow, his lips pucker. “What did he say?”
“He said the alpha wasn’t the true power in the pack.”
A muscle twitches in Jasper’s forehead. “He said that?”
“Or—I guess, that’s what he implied.”
“He said or he implied?”
“Does it matter? It was a threat against your father. Believe me, he’s not happy about what happened with Clayton and he’s not happy about me being—you know, with you.”
Jasper glances sideways, staring at the spot where the grass meets the curb, his cogs spinning. “Tell me what he said exactly.”
“I don’t know—”
“Max.” He takes my other hand and stares into my eyes. “It’s important. Walter is too powerful, too entrenched in every aspect of pack life, too influential to accuse without enough evidence to take him out. If he threatened you, I’ll kill him myself. But we need to be a hundred percent sure, otherwise…”
“Otherwise, it could only tear us apart even more.”
He nods. “Exactly.”
I tell Jasper what Walter said as best as I can remember. That whole moment is a bit of a panicked blur. Adrenaline was thumping through me, not to mention the noise in my head and how distracted I was by what happened with Aisha.
When I’m done, Jasper leans forward so our foreheads are pressed together. “I’m sorry, Max. I’m sorry he said that to you.”
“Is it enough?” I ask. “To do something?”
He sighs, big and heavy, like the world on his shoulders is starting to wear him down. “Maybe. I—I don’t know. I’ll speak to my father.”
“Okay. And what about—” I’m hesitant to ask. If this is the last time I’ll see Jasper until the summer break I don’t want to taint it with awkward conversations, but sadly that’s all we seem capable of. “What about Aisha? Have you spoken to her?”
Jasper leans back onto the car once more. “I called her this morning before I left the city.”
“Is everything—okay?”
He scoffs. “She’s not so happy with me.”
I chew my bottom lip, wanting to console Jasper but also feeling like Aisha is completely in the right here.
“But I think—I know she’ll come around. Aisha knows how things work and she knows my hands are tied in a lot of ways.”
The thought of Jasper with his hands tied flashes into my mind and my cheeks heat up instantly. I need to force that thought out before I can refocus on the conversation.
“Sometimes, I wish—” Jasper starts saying something and then stops. I step a little closer and wrap my arms around him. “I wish I had more freedom to be the—the sort of friend, the sort of partner I want to be.”
It’s obvious from his clipped, forced way of speaking that this is a hard thing for him to talk about. To admit that he, even sometimes, wishes not to be burdened with the responsibility of being the future alpha is antithetical to everything he’s been taught and believed his entire life. To him it’s a betrayal. Something tells me that he wouldn’t say this sort of thing to anyone else on the planet, and my cheeks warm again as I focus on that thought instead.
“I know—we know you’re trying,” I say, holding his face in one palm. He leans his head into me and I run a finger over his ear.
“It’s only two more months then I’ll be back for the summer,” Jasper says.
“Manageable,” I say with a laugh. “I want to…try the mind-link again.”
“Max, no. It hurts you.”
“That’s just because I haven’t figured out how to control my abilities yet. If I work on it I can—figure it out. I know it.”
He exhales, blowing air through his lips, and I want so badly to kiss him, but I need his answer first.
“Okay,” he says. “We can try. But I want you to make sure it’s not too much.”
“Scout’s honor,” I say, making the appropriate hand signal.
He laughs a little, the tension that had built up during our conversation expelled, then he turns to look at the road. “I should get going.”
“You sure? My dad’s making steak sandwiches. First time he’s cracked out the barbecue since winter.”
Jasper eyes me like I’m the steak sandwich. “That does sound delicious.” Then his shoulders droop. “But I told Alpha Jackson I’d be there by midafternoon.”
“Baah, okay. I know you have to go.”
“We’ll speak soon.” Jasper rests his forehead on mine once more.
“Speak soon.”
He kisses me hard and long, imbuing his lips with all the words he can’t say, as if he’s trying to fill me up with enough passion to last until we see each other again.
When we break apart, Jasper moves swiftly to the driver’s side and ducks into the car, like he won’t be able to leave if he says one more word, if he doesn’t go this second.
I wave and wait until the car is gone.
I meet Aisha on Monday evening after school. She’s just come from rehearsal, so we grab a bubble tea and hit the High Line. We wander along the raised boardwalk, enjoying the lush gardens reaching for us on either side, passing the slatted recliner seats, and heading under the Standard Hotel. Our conversation remains casual, until we emerge on the other side, back into the evening light. We haven’t mentioned the party yet and I was worried Aisha would be cold off the bat, but she left the studios in a surprisingly good mood. Still, I know I need to get this off my chest.
“Hey,” I say, not really knowing how to begin but also knowing exactly where to start. “I need to apologize.”
She glances at me and sips her drink, the tapioca balls moving up her giant straw.
“For what happened at the party. That was—horrible. I did try to get through the crowd to you but I wasn’t fast enough. I can’t believe they did that.”
Surprisingly, Aisha grins, just a little, then sighs. “I can. But don’t worry, dude. That’s not on you.”
“But it is. And I should have been faster. The second I knew what was happening I should have stepped in or forced Jasper to.”
A laugh. “I think you know about as well as anyone that there’s no forcing Jasper to do anything.”
“Maybe.” I rub the back of my neck, unable to tell exactly how well this is going. “I’m still so, so sorry, Aisha. What happened…it’s—not okay.”
Tourists slip by us taking pictures, and a couple of kids nearly barge right into us. I feel like I’m constantly sidestepping and ducking so I don’t run into anyone. Aisha, on the other hand, glides through it all unbothered.
“The truth is,” she says, “I knew it was a big move. I’m actually sort of impressed we made it through the doors.”
“If you knew it was a long shot, why did you…?”
“Actually, it was because of you.”
I stop walking, nearly choking on a tapioca ball. “Me?”
“You and Jasper. What you did at New Year’s. I kept thinking it was so brave of the two of you to take a stand like that—to show everyone who you are without fear.”
“Trust me, there was a lot of fear.”
She shrugs. “That just makes you more brave.”
We start walking again, heading uptown with the buildings of Manhattan slipping by on our right and the Chelsea Piers on our left.
“For the longest time I’ve felt pulled in two directions: the wolf side of me and the human side of me, the pack and my life with Troy. I’m starting to feel, I don’t know, like whichever part of me I’m inhabiting is a lie.”
“I think I get it,” I say. “Like whatever you do you’re ignoring a whole chunk of who you are, so neither feels right.”
“Pretty much. And I’m tired of it—of feeling like I’m not myself anywhere I go. So I thought, If those boys can be brave, I can too.”
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”
We curve away from where we’re heading and come to rest against the metal balustrade, looking out toward the Hudson, where boats zip by.
“What happened at the party made one thing clear,” Aisha says, her voice level and self-assured. “The pack will never accept me for all that I am. Troy will never be welcome. He doesn’t belong.” She leans over the barrier, her elbows resting on the steel. “So neither do I.”
