Page 54 of Healed in the Alpha's Embrace
“Permission?” George laughed dismissively, stepping out onto the porch now. “I don’t need your permission. I’m not on your precious pack lands.”
“Well, see, now that’s where you‘re wrong,” my father replied. “It doesn’t work like that here. The entire town of Boldercrest is under pack protection. That includes its residents. We know you’re a threat to at least two of them. You’re not welcome here.”
“Or what? You’ll call the police?” George sneered, his calculating gaze flickering between us. “Your little displays of loyalty are cute. But money…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. “Money talks louder than any backwater sense of community.”
“Stow it, George.” Dad’s tone was flat, unimpressed. “You might think you can buy your way through life, but here? In this town? We stick together. That’s worth more than your dirty money could ever buy.”
George’s hand tightened around the bills, then shoved them back into his pocket with a huff. “I expected as much from a bunch of mutts too proud to know when they’re beaten,” he spat.
My father took a step closer to him. “I didn’t appreciate you trying to sneak up on my son. This isn’t a game. You can’t make moves against my family and expect no consequences.”
“Consequences?” George balked, his chest puffing out in defiance. “I haven’t done anything wrong. I simply came to see my son.”
“Underhanded tactics don’t fly with us,” I snapped, unable to contain my disgust. “We protect our own.”
“Clearly,” George retorted, eyeing the betas behind us. “But don’t think for a second that this is over.”
“Stay in this town,” Dad said, his tone lowered, “and you’re asking for a challenge.” He jabbed a finger toward me, and every muscle in my body coiled with readiness.
George’s eyes locked onto mine. “You had your shot, Noah. Didn’t have the guts to take it.”
My wolf stirred under my skin, and I smirked. With a subtle shift of focus, I dropped the invisible shroud—the protective shield my father had taught me when I was a child—and allowed a fraction of my wolf’s true strength to emerge. It was like unclenching a fist, letting a sliver of my true presence bleed out into the open air.
George took an involuntary step back, his bravado ebbing away. The look on his face was almost worth holding my true power back all these years.
“Want a challenge, George?” I asked evenly, but there was no mistaking the edge to it. “I’m right here.”
His face paled, a stark contrast to his darkening eyes. He straightened up quickly, trying to mask the tremor I saw running through him. I wanted to push further, to show him exactly what he was up against, but my father gave a nearly imperceptible shake of his head.
We had come to make a point, not to start a war.
“Smart men know when to walk away,” I said, fixing George with a steady gaze. “Guess we’ll see what you are.”
“You can’t keep me from my son,” George spat, the veins in his neck bulging with suppressed rage. “I have legal rights to Roland.”
“Legal rights?” I growled. “Should’ve thought about that before you started putting your hands on Zoey.”
George’s face twisted into a snarl, but it was clear the mention of his violence had struck a nerve. “I never?—”
“Enough,” my father cut him off, stepping forward with an authority that silenced us both. “You’ve been informed by myson, and now by me, the alpha of the Boldercrest pack. Zoey and Roland are under our protection. If you go near them, the consequences will be severe.”
George’s fists clenched at his sides, his body rigid with fury.
“Take the legal route if you really care about seeing your son,” Dad continued. “But only a monster would try to rip a child away from a good mother. We’ll stand with Zoey through any court battle you bring.”
The words hung heavy in the air, a promise laced with iron. George’s glare could have cut through steel, but there was a flicker of uncertainty behind those cold green eyes. He knew what he was up against, and for the first time, it seemed to truly sink in. Dad had made it clear: there were no loopholes here, only the law of the pack.
“That bitch will pay for taking my heir,” George hissed.
I didn’t think, I just moved, closing the distance until we were chest to chest, my height forcing him to tilt his head back to meet my glare. “You even think about hurting Zoey or Roland?—”
“Stand down,” Dad’s order cut through the tension.
I hesitated, every muscle tensing, ready to defend them with everything I had. But I held back, meeting George’s hateful gaze with a silent vow of protection. The air around us was thick with his fear and loathing. He stank of malevolence.
“Fine,” George spat bitterly. “I’ll leave at nightfall.”
We all knew it was a lie, as transparent as the tremor in his hand. But we let him have that small concession for now.
