Page 3 of The Return
It was the first time my claws made an appearance. I slashed Adam’s stomach, enthralled by the blood that coated my nails. I’d done this. I nearly gutted him, and I wanted more.
I continued to punch and gouge him, reveling in every grunt and cry. It was then that my wolf decided to make himself known. He burst out, shredding the clothes I’d worn. Adam fell to the floor, sobbing. I opened my jaws wide and put them around his neck. It would have been easy to close them, to tear his throat out, to watch him drown in his own blood.
“P-please, no,” Adam pleaded.
Just then the door burst open and my father strode into the room, his sheer size making the place seem tiny. “Let him go, Jonas. Now.”
Instead, I tightened my grip, my fangs piercing Adam’s skin, causing him to scream. The blood was bitter, rancid. But it was blood. That of my enemy. I needed to protect my mate, and if Adam had to die—
“Jonas James Brodie,” my father growled. “As your Alpha, I am ordering you to release himnow.”
My father’s power as Alpha washed over me. Anyone else in the pack would have rolled and given their stomach in submission. Instead, I dropped Adam and turned and snarled at my own father. He stood there, doing his best to seem unfazed, but I could sense the tiniest niggle of fear. He grabbed the nape of my neck and twisted my head to where Adam lay drawn in on himself.
“Look at what you’ve done!” he raged. “You could have killed him. A leader would have dealt with this, but in a way that wouldn’t harm pack cohesion.”
I didn’t give a good goddamn about being a leader. All I wanted was Corey. The pack could go to hell in a cute little handbasket. I growled at Adam, the urge to tear him to pieces riding me hard.
“Is this how you want Corey to see you?” My father leaned in close, his voice barely rising above a whisper, but even then I could feel his strength. “You claim he’s yours, but this disrespects him on every level. I’m aware of what Adam said to you. His mother was quite forthcoming when she called me, begging me to stop you from hurting Adam. Yes, by old pack law, you’d be allowed to kill him, and I will not debate that. But those rules were written nearly two hundred years ago, when mates—and yes, I know that’s what Corey is—were considered property. I’ve sat down to dinner with Corey and his family. He’s not shy about making his opinions known. Will you insist he take a more subservient role in your relationship, or will you allow him to proudly stand by your side as your Alpha Mate?”
Corey. The name surged into my tiny lizard brain. Mate. Claim. Mine.
“You must shift now, Jonas. If you won’t do it for me, then do it for your mate.”
For Corey I would do anything. I drew my wolf back into me. He didn’t hesitate at all, because he knew it would make Corey happy. Moments later, I stood, not at all cowed by Adam or my father.
“Good, thank you.” My father ran a hand over my head, then pulled me into a tight embrace, pinning my arms at my side. “And I’m sorry to have to do this, but for now, I can’t allow you to see Corey again.”
CHAPTER2
COREY
It had beena weird two days. I kept hearing people say that Jonas had returned, but hadn’t spotted him once. When I asked, they all gave me a nervous smile and said if I wanted to know about Jonas, I’d need to ask him myself.
Well, that would be great, if I could! Instead, all I heard were rumors and innuendo. For the most part, it seemed that everyone was thrilled he’d come back. I heard whispered words about how great it was to have him back in town where he belonged. Why had he left in the first place? And each time that question got asked, furtive glances were sent my way.
Had I done something to get Jonas in trouble? Had they discovered I was gay and become afraid I’d infect him or something? I always thought his family liked mine well enough, but maybe not. When my folks moved down to Louisiana—better weather for my dad’s failing health—I’d chosen to stay. I don’t know why. There was nothing in Harken’s Corners for me. Yet I felt compelled to remain in the town.
And it worked out well, I guess. I opened the Shattered Bean, the first coffee shop in town, and it was a big hit. People would come in every morning for my super-secret-recipe, signature coffee choux buns glazed with a coffee pastry cream. It always made me smile when they licked their lips while staring through the display case, then gave me a pleading look like I was their dealer or something.
After all these years, Harken’s Corners had somehow become my home. I was happy here. The one weird thing was that if a guy came in and I flirted a little, he’d get a look of absolute horror on his face and bolt from the place as fast as his legs would carry him. After the first few times, I realized it was something with me, and I stopped trying. I thought it would be awkward, but it wasn’t. I’d go home, use a bit of the lotion I seemed to buy in bulk, and make use of the case of Kleenex I’d gotten from Amazon. I won’t say it wasn’t a little lonely, but I made do.
“Good morning, Corey!” came the voice of my best customer, Doug Baxter. I hadn’t seen him all week, because he’d taken his wife to a clinic in Wilmington to see a specialist there.
“Hey, Doug. How are you this morning?”
His grin slipped. “I’m in the doghouse. My wife’s doctor told her absolutely no caffeine until after the baby. I might have let it slip that I was coming here for a choux bun, then realized she couldn’t have it. Her face was so red, I thought it best if I got out of the house.”
Doug’s wife, Amy, was pregnant with their third child. The other two, Kyle and Amelia, were delightful, and I enjoyed having them come in. Give them some crayons and a few sheets of blank paper, and you wouldn’t hear a peep out of them the entire time.
“Ouch. What can I get you?”
He grinned. “A choux bun, of course. You’d better make it two. I’ll let her know I was thinking about her, so since she couldn’t have it, I ate one for her.”
I shook my head. “That won’t get you back in her good graces.”
He shrugged one of his slender shoulders. “Maybe not, but it’ll give me a happy tummy.”
“I’ll say kind things at your funeral,” I assured him, bagging up two buns.
