Running with the Alpha's Son, page 6
The doors ping open and I wander out into a large living area. The floors are black marble, which reflects the view of Manhattan shining in through the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows.
By the elevator is a black grand piano with an oversized vase and an explosive bouquet of tropical flowers erupting from it in a plume of bright colors. In front of me, a set of perfectly white sofas are arranged around a large stone coffee table and white rug. This place looks like a display home, like no one actually lives here. Beyond the sofas is a long dining table, a slab of white marble long enough to sit twelve or thirteen guests at least. Artwork hangs on the walls opposite the windows. One looks like a bona fide Monet and one I think is a Pollock, the abstract squiggly lines reminding me of the red tendrils that represent each wolf in my mind.
“Max!” Jodie comes bounding from a doorway between the two paintings, dressed like a princess. She wraps her little arms around my waist and I hug her back.
“Hey Jodie, it’s nice to see you.”
“You too. You know you don’t have to wait for Jasper to come home to visit.”
“I know. I’m sorry. You excited for the party?”
She steps back, scrunching up her face. “Not really. It’ll probably be boring like all the others. I’d rather you and Jasper just hung out with me here.”
“You don’t have any friends coming?”
“Just Jessica and Mandy from school, but they’ll probably want to talk about boys the whole time.” On the word boys she rolls her eyes like she couldn’t think of anything less interesting.
“Ugh, that sounds lame,” I say, very aware of just how boy obsessed I’ve been for the last nine months.
“It’s very lame,” she says.
“What’s lame?” I glance up to find Jasper, leaning ever so casually next to the Pollock, looking crazy handsome in a sleek new suit, his hair slicked back, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Boys,” I shoot straight back at him.
“Uh, yes,” he nods, grinning at me. “Boys. The lamest.”
I can’t help grinning back at him. After three months of not seeing him in person, taking in the sight of him feels like coming up for air. My teeth vibrate with giddy excitement, my legs are immediately a couple of gelatinous poles, wobbling all over the place, my chest swings open like a cuckoo clock, my heart pounds.
Jodie is eyeing us, glancing back and forth with a suspicious glare. “You two are being gross, aren’t you?”
“Why don’t you go finish getting ready, Stink Face?” Jasper asks, stepping toward me.
“I am ready,” she protests.
“I think you could be more ready.”
She rolls her eyes. “Okay I get it, you want to be alone with your booooyfriend. You could have just said.”
“Thanks, Stinky,” Jasper says.
Jodie stomps past him. We wait until she’s gone, then our eyes meet and we collide. Jasper pulls me into his arms and plants a passionate kiss on my lips.
“I’ve missed you,” he says when we finally come up for air.
“I’ve missed you too.” Reluctantly I let go of Jasper with one arm and pull the rolled-up present from the inside pocket of my white suit jacket. “Happy birthday.”
“You didn’t need to—”
“Shut up,” I say. “Of course I did. Though it’s not much…”
Eagerly I eye Jasper, studying his face, every miniexpression and twitch of muscle, as he unwraps his gift. He drops the wrapping paper on the floor and unfurls the piece of paper. For a long time he stares at the drawing I made for him, his brow furrowed, and for a painful moment I’m worried he hates it. He has everything in the world. Why would he want a dumb drawing of us onstage at New Year’s?
“It’s—”
I don’t let him finish his thought. “I based it off a photo someone took at the party. It’s okay, I could have done more shading, especially on the arm there”—I point at the picture—“see?”
“Max, it’s perfect. Thank you.”
With a firm hand he pulls me toward him and kisses me again. And he keeps kissing me, until I think my feet might leave the floor. The dull ache in my mind drifts away and I lean into his embrace. Then before I know it he’s pulling away.
“I—I have some bad news,” he says, his thumb running over my cheek.
“What is it?”
“There’s something we have to do before we can leave for the party.”
“What’s that?”
“Actually, it’s more of a someone.”
I shoot him a confused look. Why is he talking in riddles? What could be so bad he’s scared of telling me?
“Someone?”
“My dad. He wants to speak with you before we go.”
Oh. The last time I spoke to Alpha Jericho was at the New Year’s party, when I was giving him a piece of my mind, telling him to step up his parenting game. He didn’t look pleased then and I can’t imagine he’s anymore pleased now that Jasper and I have messed up relations with Morven and the other packs.
“I’m sorry,” Jasper says. “Hopefully, it’ll only take a second.”
A second? Is that how long it’ll take for Jericho to hand me my ass?
“Uh, sure,” I say.
And as Jasper takes my hand and leads me to a corridor, I have a distinct feeling I’m being led to my death.
SPRING BREAKERS
Jericho is reading a book in a leather chair, the back of which rises above even his immense height, bathed in warm light from an antique lamp nearby. He’s surrounded on all sides by bookshelves, intricately carved out of rich mahogany. The shelves are stacked with leatherbound volumes, artifacts, and sculptural curiosities that sit somewhere between crazy science gizmo and art piece. Under his feet is a large rug with geometric patterns. I feel like I’ve just wandered into the Library of Alexandria.
“Max,” he says, standing to greet me, placing the paperback novel, diminutive in his massive hands, on the table beside him and reaching out to shake my hand. His grip is firmer than firm, like steel wrapping around my poor fingers. “It’s a pleasure to see you”—he lowers his gaze, pinning me to the spot—“as always.”
Gulpity gulp.
Jasper is a warm presence beside me and I wish I could reach for his hand. But I also don’t want to show weakness in front of the alpha. Even if he chews me out for having a go at him on New Year’s it’s important I stand my ground. Right?
Or maybe I should fall on my sword, drop to my knees and beg forgiveness, anything to make him stop glowering at me like that.
“It’s…nice to see you too,” I croak.
“Come in.”
I take a step but Jasper doesn’t accompany me, instead nodding to encourage me forward. With my palms raised I shake my head at him. What are you doing? To which he smiles and ushers me onward. I shoot him my best death stare then turn back to the alpha.
“That’ll be all, Jasper,” Jericho says. “I’ll send Max out when I’m done with him.”
Gulpity gulpity gulp gulp.
Jericho flashes me a toothy grin, like he’s hungry and looking for a snack to take a bite out of.
“Yes, sir.”
Jasper gives me one last encouraging nod then leaves the room, shutting the large and probably quite heavy door behind him.
“Take a look around,” Jericho says, when Jasper is gone. “You like to read?”
“Uh-huh,” I say, casting another exploratory glance across the shelves. “When I have the time.”
“Of course.” Jericho gestures to his collection of books. “The entire history of our pack is contained within these volumes. Decades of power struggles, political uprisings. And through it all the Apollo family has ruled the Elite Pack with an iron jaw.”
He comes to stand next to his chair, placing a threateningly large hand on the leather back.
“What you and Jasper are doing has never been done in the entire history of our pack.”
“I see.” I don’t see, I’m completely in the dark. What’s he getting at?
“To do what you’ve done…takes guts—the guts I thought you had.”
Whoa, wait a lunar minute? Was that a compliment?
“Sorry?” I stammer.
“The resilience and fortitude it takes to stand proudly as you and my son have done is no small feat.” Again he grins like he wants to gobble me up. “I’m proud.”
Holy smokes!
“I…uh, thanks?”
Jericho laughs, the sound reverberating in his expansive barrel chest. “I expect you thought I might be less hospitable after our last interaction.”
I rub the back of my neck. “Yeah, uh, sorry about that.”
“The truth is you were right, Max. And you weren’t afraid to tell me exactly where to stick it. I appreciate that sort of forthcomingness. That’s how I know you are the right wolf to stand by my side now during this time of uncertainty.”
“Uncertainty?”
“Yes.” He sighs and rubs his eyes, and for the first time in my life the alpha seems to shrink before me, to appear—just a little—like a normal wolf. Suddenly he looks his fifty-something years. “Not every pack is as understanding or welcoming of change as ours. You and Jasper have made quite a splash, one our rivals are willing to take advantage of.”
“Riiiiight.”
“And sadly there is also discord within our own ranks. A division in the pack. I believe you’ve already had a taste of the divisive attitudes of our pack members.”
Does he mean the graffiti?
“I’m truly sorry you and your family have had to bear the consequences of our pack’s ambivalence.”
“That’s okay,” I say, rubbing my neck raw. “The garage needed a new coat of paint anyway.”
Jericho lowers his brow, and his fingers clench the chair a little tighter. “I’m afraid that could be just the tip of the iceberg. Changing long-held opinions and uprooting ancient traditions is an uphill climb.”
“Yes,” I say, well aware of just how tricky it can be to make a stubborn-ass wolf come around to logic. “It takes time.”
“Time and strong leadership.” His gaze focuses and he takes a breath. “A lot will be asked of you in the coming months and years, Max. But you’ve proven to me that you’re up to the task.”
“M-me?”
“Yes. You and Jasper. The two of you will be instrumental in showing our society that we are still a strong, united pack, with capable and unwavering leadership. Tonight’s event is just the first step. In the coming days it will be imperative that you are able to show up and prove to our pack members that we are still the pinnacle of power and the very example of prowess amongst wolves. We must accomplish this if we are to face the external forces who would wish us and you harm.”
Jericho’s words are a big swampy mess in my mind. Jasper and I are going to be instrumental to the pack, to keep everyone’s shit together in case we’re attacked by outside forces. Right. But what does that mean? How on earth am I supposed to do that? The responsibility feels too large and the actual task too vague. “That all sounds, um…sorry, what do you mean exactly?”
“The first step is introducing you to the pack. At the party tonight we start with the inner circle, the most influential of wolves. They will be the most discerning and the ones you’ll need to charm if we’re going to convince the rest of our people that you and Jasper are the right fit for future leadership. Win over the crowd tonight and you’ll have won the hearts of every Elite Pack wolf.”
Okay, so no pressure then.
“I’m counting on you, Max.”
“Of course,” I say, and nod obediently. “I’ll do my best.”
Another sinister grin. “I know you won’t disappoint.”
As I leave Jericho’s office, wandering slowly through the halls of the apartment, dazed and adrift, I can’t quite piece together what’s just happened and what’s been asked of me. Somehow it’s my job to prove to the crusty Elite Pack elite that I’m worth putting their support behind—that my and Jasper’s relationship is strong enough to raise the sprits of the entire pack. We’ve only been on one proper date, for moon gods’ sake!
And what if we fail? What if we can’t convince the pack to get behind us? Does the pack crumble? Will some sort of civil war break out? And what does that mean for our relationship? Will Jericho decide to find a new mate for Jasper and order him to reject me?
“You okay?” Jasper says, eyeing me as I meander back into the living room. He’s standing by the elevator, ready to go. “You’re white as a sheet.”
“Fine,” I say. “I think.”
He reaches out and takes my hand and a cool, reassuring wave crashes over me. Instantly, I feel better, less confused, less unsure.
“What did he say?”
“That the fate of the pack is on our shoulders.”
Jasper laughs. “He didn’t…did he?”
I try my best smile but I know it turns out all crooked and forced.
Jasper, furrowing his brow, takes my other hand and steps closer. “Don’t worry about him. He’s just got a lot going on. All you have to do is be yourself, everyone is going to love you.”
My lips are dry, my stomach is gurgling like I haven’t eaten in days, my knees are knocking against each other.
“If you say so.”
Jasper’s birthday bash is taking place at a trendy, upmarket bar and restaurant in Williamsburg—the sort of place up-and-coming pop stars would hang out to be seen in, and young tech entrepreneurs would spend too much on cocktails in for their staff. Just one drink at the place would pretty much wipe out my savings.
As we pull up outside, the dull, fuzzy feeling of encroaching voices presses in on all sides of my mind like storm clouds. I haven’t been around this many wolves since New Year’s and I guess I’d gotten used to lowering my guard. We’re still in the car and already I’m squinting and twitching trying to keep the noise at bay.
“You okay?” Jasper asks, carefully placing a hand on my knee.
I nod and force a smile.
“I know it’s a lot, but you get used to it.”
I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to this, I want to say, but I don’t want to come off as too negative. Jasper has been dealing with this sort of thing his entire life, going to big events, hobnobbing, putting on a brave and charming front. I can manage to act like a normal, well-adjusted wolf for all of four hours. Can’t I? Plus, it’s Jasper’s birthday. I’m sure he isn’t exactly thrilled to be spending it with his dad’s colleagues and the wealthy blob. I’m sure he’d rather be hanging out with me and Aisha and Jodie at home. But he’s here, looking debonair in his suit, and trying to be encouraging to me, when I should be the one making sure he has a good night.
“It’ll be fun,” I squeak, and he slips out of the car. Before he can zip around to my side to open the door for me I check my messages. I’d texted Aisha on the way over to see what time she’d be arriving and all she said was “Be there in a bit.” I was hoping for something more concrete so I knew exactly when backup would arrive to rescue me. My door clicks and swings open and suddenly there is Jasper reaching out his hand for mine, to help me from the car.
Music is pumping from inside and a trickle of smartly dressed wolves are lingering by the entrance—girls in sleek satin dresses with spaghetti straps and guys in suits who stop laughing and turn to greet us as we step toward the door.
Shoulders back, head high, I take a breath, and as Jasper slips his hand into mine, we make our way inside.
Walking into the party feels distinctly different than the handful of other times I’ve arrived at pack events. Usually I wander into these completely unnoticed, like a shadow or the invisible man. This time, all eyes turn to Jasper and me. Jasper, while not entirely comfortable—his back is unnaturally straight, his chin raised, an easy but performative smile has appeared on his face—is clearly used to this. He nods in greeting as we pass partygoers standing along the concrete bar, grins at the guests on the other side of the room in the velvet banquettes beneath the large warehouse-style windows, seemingly unfazed by just how many people are staring at him, waving as if they’re close friends, leaning in as if he might stop and talk to them.
Meanwhile the noise of this many wolves is making it hard to keep my expression neutral. I grit my teeth and press my lips together, trying not to screw up my face like I’ve been stabbed and someone is twisting the knife. I must let out a small groan because Jasper squeezes my hand and glances in my direction. He shoots me a look of concern and I do my best to shake off the darkening clouds compressing my brain and smile.
We’re about halfway into the large room, crowds of polished, well-dressed wolves surrounding us on all sides, when a couple approaches us. The woman looks to be in her twenties, blond hair, a black cocktail dress that hugs all of her ample curves, and the man has to be somewhere in the region of fifty, his salt-and-pepper hair gelled smartly to one side, his wide shoulders filling out his suit, the crinkles around his eyes betraying him.
“Jasper,” the man croons. “It’s good to see you.”
“You too, Cyrus. And you as well Jessica.” Jasper shakes Cyrus’s hand and goes full European as he air-kisses the sides of Jessica’s face. “Allow me to introduce my mate—”
“Max!” Cyrus erupts before Jasper can get my name out. “Yes, we’ve been so eager to meet you since that little show at New Year’s.”
I can’t tell if this guy means to patronize or if he just talks like a game-show host. Either way, his smarmy, amused tone is setting me on edge.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” I say.
“Cyrus is my father’s head of PR,” Jasper says.
“Oh, cool.”
“Yes and I’ve been trying to nail the two of you down for a while now,” Cyrus says.
He has? I shoot a questioning glance at Jasper. Has he been dodging Cyrus all this time on my behalf?
“I’d love to set up some interviews with the both of you so the pack can get to know you better.” He literally runs his gaze up and down the length of my body, as if appraising me. “I’m sure there are some fascinating stories about how you met and I’d love to know about your upbringing, Max. Where on earth did you come from?”
