Page 103 of Chasing The Alpha's Son
She does this little half-laugh exhale through her nose and keeps staring upward. I wait for her to say something but she doesn’t, so I lie down next to her and stare at the same ceiling. Because what I said wasn’t exactly true. I have changed, so has she, and I think we both know it.
Before heading down in the evening I gulp a cup of cold tea and ready myself to block out the noise.
At dinner I head to my usual seat but find it occupied by a Rocky Pack teenager I haven’t met. I glance at Katie, flanked by her mates, and she shrugs.
“Over here!” Mia calls, and I notice Mia and Jasper have swapped sides and there’s a spare seat between them, one seat away from Alpha Morven’s place setting. She waves me over enthusiastically.
I half grin at Katie, then make my way to the head of the table.
Jasper stands when I arrive, which is, like, wildly gallant for him, and I take my spot between him and Mia.
“Hey,” I say, leaning forward and spotting Olivia to Mia’s left. She nods in return.
“Daddy wanted you to have a prime spot for your celebration dinner,” Mia says, wrapping her arm around mine. Then leaning a little closer, she whispers in my ear: “And I thought everyone might enjoy a new seating plan.”
I lean back and catch her grinning. She mouths the wordthanks, then turns to Olivia and continues whatever conversation they were having before I arrived.
Jasper clears his throat awkwardly. “Hi,” he mumbles.
“Hey.”
It’s almost adorable how bad he is at this, as if he’s spent so much time pretending not to be interested he’s forgotten how to act like a normal wolf. I used to think he was always so suave, always knew how to act, but clearly I’m seeing a new side to my mate.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
“Fine,” I say, fiddling with the pendant beneath my shirt. “I had more tea before I came down. Hey, when we get back do you think—”
“Morven is here,” he says, breaking me off midsentence.
As always a horn sounds announcing Morven and Astrid’s entrance. When they arrive at their seats, Astrid sits and Morven holds the attention of the pack.
“This last week,” he says, “we welcomed members of the Elite Pack into our home, our land, and we shared with them a sacred bonding moment.” His blue eyes beam out at his people. “Of course, as things in the Rocky Pack often go, not everything has been smooth sailing.” He glances in my direction, giving me a subtle nod. “But I have faith that this week has brought our two packs closer together than ever before. And I foresee a glorious future where our packs continue to work together and grow.”
Staring out from the head of the table at the faces of the Rocky Pack, they dart their eyes from Morven to Mia to Jasper, as if there’s some secret they all know that I don’t. Pressure builds at the front of my mind, the overwhelming sense that the wolves before me are thinking the same thing. Their collective consciousness prods at my brain, and I do my best to resist it, pressing my lips together and clutching at my thighs beneath the table. But it’s no use. The group energy is too much, and an image penetrates through my defenses. The image flashes in my mind, painful and unbearable. I wince as I work to shut it out. Jasper looks over, concerned, and I stare at him questioningly.
“Now,” Morven continues, “let’s eat!”
After dinner the kids gather one more time in the den. There’s dancing and music and even spiked hot chocolate. But through it all I can’t concentrate. Even Mason twerking and jumping about like he’s performing at the VMAs can’t pull me from the funk dinner left me in. So I excuse myself and head to my room.
When I get there there’s a folded-up note on the floor. Someone must’ve slipped it under the door. I lift my nose and catch a hint of cherry blossom in the air. Jasper was here.
Carefully, I unfold the note:
Sit with me on the plane tomorrow.
Sleep well, Bonehead.
X
Maybe I’m stressing myself out, and there’s nothing to worry about. After all, the image I saw during dinner didn’t come from Jasper. It was just a stupid idea cooked up by a misinformed alpha and fed to his pack. I shouldn’t worry.
I hug Mason one more time and tell him as firmly as I can, “Text me the second I get in the car.”
“I’m already drafting the perfect goodbye message.”
“It’s not goodbye, remember, you’re going to be so sick of me you’ll beg me to stop calling.”
He hugs me back, then kicks at the snowy gravel.
