Page 78 of Chasing The Alpha's Son
THE BLOOD MOON
“Ready to freeze your ass off?”
Mason appears at my side, a green beanie perched on the back of his head and a festive thermos clasped between gloved hands. I glance back at Jasper, but he’s not where he was a second ago.
“Earth to Max, what’s going on?” Mason asks.
“Uh, nothing.”
Jasper must be somewhere, but it’s okay, I don’t need to go looking.
“What’s in the thermos?”
“Hot chocolate, what else?” Mason responds, grinning. “This isn’t my first midnight hike—you’ll thank me in an hour when you’re shaking in your little boots.”
“I’ll take you word for it.”
Out front of the packhouse, snow is falling, drifting sideways in the wind. It’s not as intense as the storm I got caught in yesterday, but if this wasn’t some sacred once-in-a-lifetime event, you better believe I’d be turning around and heading back to my room to watchHousewives.
Katie, Todd, and Simon arrive in the foyer, and I wave them over.
“This is so exciting,” Katie squeals.
“You sure you’re going to be warm enough, babe?” Simon asks.
“I brought an extra pair of earmuffs if you want them,” Todd says, making Katie blush.
“And I brought a hot-water bottle, just in case,” Simon adds.
Katie looks between them, then at me, and I can tell she’s just the tiniest bit embarrassed. This throuple thing is going to be an uphill battle. And speaking of uphill…Alpha Morven and Mia have just appeared in the hall.
“A fantastic turnout!” Morven says, walking through the group.
Mia lets him go, instead looking around and finding Jasper.
He’s off to the side with Olivia, and as Mia approaches, Olivia’s face turns this sickly shade of olive green. She quickly excuses herself. Mia looks a little confused but swiftly moves on, smiling and linking an arm through Jasper’s. I can’t help the pang of jealousy, even though I know Mia isn’t going to make a move on my mate, and even though Jasper and I are both wearing the presents we gave each other. So I guess nothing is going to take this feeling away.
“Could I have everyone’s attention for a moment before we head off?” Morven says, and every eye is suddenly upon him.
“Years ago, when our ancestors climbed out of the valley, they did so with us in mind. They rose from the shadows to build the foundations of our pack on top of the mountains—so that we could have the best. And tonight we are so fortunate to be the only pack with access to Wolf Point. So let us remember our ancestors as we make the trek out there tonight and are blessed with a blood moon. We give thanks, to the wolves of the past, who rose from nothingness to the peak of civilization.”
A murmur passes through the crowd as Rocky Pack wolves nod in agreement or bow their heads in reverence.
“Now wrap up warm, stay close to the group, and let’s make our way to Wolf Point.”
Morven’s speech is met with a small round of applause as the doors are flung open. Cold wind sweeps into the foyer, bringing with it spinning currents of snow and ice. It hits my face and steals my breath.
Mason was right: We’re about halfway up the mountain—or at least I’m praying we’re halfway—and it is cold. Colder than cold. I cup the silver thermos lid between my mittens and sip hot chocolate. Under our feet the snow is icy and crunches with each step. The mountain range is rolling alongside us, jagged and brutal. Overhead, clouds are blocking out the moon, lit by the occasional spark of lightning.
“That’s really good,” I say, handing the thermos across to Katie.
Mason smiles proudly. “It’s my mom’s recipe, plus I added a little whiskey to give it a bit of a kick.”
My mouth drops open in exaggerated shock. “Are you trying to get us drunk out here? So that we fall off the mountain?”
“Exactly,” Mason says, “and you’ve fallen right into my trap.”
“That’s one delicious trap,” Katie says, wiping her lips and offering the thermos to her mates.
