The Alpha (The Pack 3)

“Whoa, now, pup,” Trent yanked the sucker stick out of his mouth. “Let’s not go crazy here. We aren’t comparing this to the mating bond. That’s a totally different thing.”

Is he for real? I inquired mentally to Dom.

Which one? He asked grumpily and I buried my hand in the thick fur of his neck, massaging it as he leaned his heavy head against my side.

Both? Either? “Is this seriously a thing?” It was impossible to keep the incredulity out of my voice. “Why am I just now hearing about this? I don’t want to accidentally owe my life to one of you fuckers.”

“Doesn’t work that way,” Trent answered wryly. “It’s more a wolf thing.”

“So Liam owes his life to Leah and now he’s bound to protect her?” I asked, making sure I had this correct.

“Yep.”

“Do I get a say?” Leah raised her hand, glancing between us and I gave a lopsided shrug. Hell, if I knew.

The guys traded sideways glances and then Trent made a show of looking at his watch, except he didn’t wear a watch. “Don’t you have that meeting, Dom?” He asked and I felt Dom’s head move under my hand.

Don’t think I’m gonna forget this, I muttered to him and there was no mistaking the sensation of him internally squirming.

“I need to go home,” Leah said faintly, pointing to the parking lot for emphasis.

“I’ll escort you,” Liam replied, eager as a puppy. Pun intended. Leah glanced at me helplessly and I shrugged. He was her problem, I had a dozen of my own. “It’s dangerous,” he continued. “I can make sure you arrive home safely.”

“Just make sure you come back. No stalking,” I told him, giving him a beady stare which he flinched back from.

You are magnificent, Dom murmured and I blinked at the unexpected compliment. You are a true Alpha’s mate.

Yay me, I replied, enthusiasm failing flat to his amusement.

I’ll explain later, he assured me as he turned to trot back toward the woods.

“I’ll get your bag,” Liam told Leah, running to where it rested on the ground. She sent me a wide eyed stare and I chuckled. “Text me later,” I mouthed and she nodded before wandering over to where Liam waited.

Trent stared at me as they left and I rocked back on my heels, bemused by his grumpy expression. “You seem to get stuck with babysitting duty a lot,” I told him and he nodded, his back molars grinding on the chewed sucker stick. “I know something that will make you happy,” I added and he arched a single eyebrow. “About a certain she wolf.” Interest glinted in his eyes but before I could say anything else Monster was running toward me. Trent tensed, his gaze scanning the edge of the forest for any threat as Dylan lumbered behind Monster.

“We got all the cookies,” Monster yelled and Trent relaxed next to me. “But we’re hungry.”

“How could you be hungry? You ate half the cookies,” I accused them and they gave me innocent stares as Trent snorted next to me. Monster gave a helpless shrug, his hands suspiciously empty of cookies. “Fine, I’ll cook dinner, but you need to wash up and put a shirt on,” I muttered, before catching Trent’s hopeful gaze as I turned back to the motel. “Oh, you too.”

We walked back to the motel as Dad came around the side of the building. His worried expression eased when he saw Dylan walking next to us.

“Don’t mention,” I started to say when Trent interrupted.

“Not a word,” he promised me. “He’s got enough on his plate.”

“Dom told you,” I said resignedly.

“Uh huh and I can’t wait to meet the woman that birthed you,” he replied, his lips tilting in a half smirk that was meant to ease the anger that had spiked inside of me at the mere mention of my mother’s arrival.

“I’m my father’s daughter,” I assured him with a tight smile as Dad met us.

“Dylan, it’s good to see you on two legs instead of four,” Dad said, smiling, and I could tell it was genuine by the crinkles that formed in the corners of his eyes. He’d taken an interest in Dylan and it wasn’t just because he was Wren’s younger brother. Dad rivaled myself when it came to adopting strays, hence the fact our motel resembled a halfway house more than a place of business.

“S-s-ir,” Dylan managed to force out, the word conveying several emotions. Dad clasped him on the shoulder, giving him one of those manly squeezes guys did, and I could see Dylan’s eyes shining. It wasn’t often he’d experienced a friendly touch, especially from another man. I noticed that all of the bruising that had covered Dylan’s face was gone, magically healed from the shift and I was grateful. He’d had layers of bruising from the abuse he’d taken from his father and the Hanley Pack, and I was glad the reminders of that were gone. This was a new start for Dylan, Wren, and all the others who had managed to escape the Hanleys.