Page 33 of Crossed Fates
Which explained why they’d returned here before the coroner had finished.
She’d needed a moment.
My father likely had as well.
Just as I’d needed one, too.While Makayla watched. She’d accepted my pain and had allowed me to essentially take out my frustrations on her.Just like a mate.
I swallowed, pushing the thoughts away.
Except I could feel my father offer solace to my mother now and vice versa. They were both hurtingtogether. Grieving in their own way and helping bolster the other through their mating bond.
Emotions weren’t a weakness. They were a strength. And alphas knew better than anyone the importance of harnessing that strength to better support the more vulnerable members of the pack.
Transitions of power were never easy, especially under these circumstances.
Which was precisely why my father hadn’t even waited an hour before demanding I come see him.
He wanted to talk about my ascension.
And all this small talk about mates was just his way of breaking the ice.
The only reason I allowed it was because of my mom. She needed this far more than my father or I did. She needed a discussion of normalcy to distract herself from the agony ripping her apart inside.
“I don’t recommend wooing by stalking, Alaric.” My mother’s advice came with a soft yet slightly chastising glance at my dad. He merely smiled, no sign of regret in his expression.
“I think I’ll be okay.” Because I didn’t intend towooanyone. Makayla might be my mate, but there would be no wooing between us.
My mother gave me a knowing smile. “Playing hard to get?”
“Not playing at all,” I drawled.
“Hmm,” she hummed, a habit I most certainly picked up from her. She always made that noise when she didn’t believe something, just like I did.
“Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?” she asked, feigning innocence.
“Makayla doesn’t want a mate, and neither do I.”
“Hmm,” she repeated.
I glowered at her. “Seriously. Don’t.”
Her green eyes glittered in response. Tyler used to give me a similar look when amused, his forest-green irises the same shade as our mother’s. He’d had her thick, dark hair, too. As did I. But my eyes were the same shade as my father’s, just like my ebony fur rivaled his, while Tyler and my mom had brown coats.
“I give him a week,” she said conversationally, glancing at my father. “He’ll be on his knees, begging, by the end of it.”
I huffed a laugh. “Not a chance in…” I cleared my throat. Cursing in front of my mother would be in bad form. She might be an alpha female surrounded by wolves all day, but I was her son. And while I might not see her often, a certain amount of respect was always due to one in her position. “It’s not going to happen,” I rephrased.
“Why am I having déjà vu?” she asked, looking upward and tapping her elven chin. “Oh, right.” She gave my father a knowing look. “Looks like he’ll be chasing her after all. Like father, like son.” She blew us a kiss, then turned to leave with a genuine smile on her face.
It might have been at my expense, but I didn’t begrudge her the reaction. Mostly because I knew it distracted her, if just for the moment.
The same mirth shone in my father’s expression, putting me a little at ease. I picked up my drink to take another sip as he shook his head. “You’re so fucked.”
I choked on the liquid, his curse so unlike him. “Dad.”
“Just calling it like I see it, son,” he replied, lifting his glass to click it against mine. “She stabbed you, huh?”
