Page 72 of Alpha Mates

I shake my head. “This doesn’t detract from our duties.” It enforces them.

“But—”

“But nothing, Beckett,” I say, circling the large ornate table that has been passed down from alpha to alpha for generations. I trail the edges with my fingers, hoping to gather some ounce of strength from it. “Let’s go. We shouldn’t be late.”

Warriors crowd the field, waiting in clearly divided groups for the session to start. Heads duck, bowing respectfully as Beckett and I approach, and I return the gesture while I try to mentally prepare myself for the next set of hours.

It isn’t like I’ve never trained with my pack’s warriors before. I’ve done it, as every respective alpha does, to present my “vigour” so that the pack’s strongest remember that I am stronger, but I’ve never gone further than to maintain that thread. I enjoy pack runs and morning patrols, but combat training … well, the staged opportunity to get physical with other wolves has yet to thrill me.

Personal feelings aside, this isn’t the usual alpha pageantry. It’s the first joint training session with Aiden’s pack, which means that tensions will naturally be high. But I want the overall outcome to be a positive one, so we can start sewing bonds between our wolves.

So long as there is no unnecessary bloodshed, I’ll count it as a win.

The groups part as I make my way to the centre of the field where my mate already waits.

Aiden laughs loudly with them, magnetic as always. I don’t recognise any of them, but they must be friends to be so close. He speaks animatedly with them, but the moment he senses me, his head snaps my way, and somehow, his impossibly-big smile grows.

It’s automatic, the way my lips twitch up in response, and how the pressure on my chest eases, allowing me to breathe for the first time since Beckett handed me that mocking note.

“Jewels,” he says, meeting me halfway. “Never thought I’d see the day you wore something other than a turtleneck.”

I roll my eyes, then quietly take in his attire. He wears a loose muscle tee with far too many holes in it and a pair of equally loose basketball shorts. Allblack. He stands out under the brutal midday sun, but Aiden always stands out.

“I was here before you,” he teases with a step forward. “That’s not a good look, Jewels.”

Breathing in deep, I calm myself with his scent before I shrug. “I have to let you win sometimes. Otherwise, it’s just cruel.”

Aiden grins, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he studies me. I’m getting better at tracking his gaze, even from behind his shades, so I feel the way it lingers now.

“Will you guys gather everyone for us?” he asks, glancing at Beckett, then Emitt, who does his best to hide behind his back.

It’s been a few days since my unfortunate and humiliating dalliance with jealousy, and though I apologised, Emitt was still somewhat terrified of me. I was trying to find some stable ground for us, seeing as Aiden has since dialled back his excessive displays of affection, but Emitt’s fear was making it unreasonably difficult.

He follows the command with Beckett though, calling everyone to order while Aiden nods his head to the left. I follow, letting him leads us a little ways off.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Of course.”

Aiden’s brows tug in over his shades. I can feel his worry humming through the bond. It’s easier to distinguish the feelings that pass through it these days as we grow closer, and define its threads in the process. He pushes his shades up, letting me meet those dark eyes I crave so deeply.

“Julian,” he says seriously, “are you okay?”

I blink at him, wondering how he knows.

I put on the same brave face I always do, because Heils don’t fray. Only somehow, Aiden sees right through it. He sees me.

“You’re stiff as a board, and you don’t feel like … you,” he says, stepping closer. “Talk to me, Jewels.”

Alex whines inside of me, practically rolling over from the warmth of our mate’s care. It’s so clear and abundant, and it’s all for me. I selfishly adore it. I’ve never had anything just for me before. Tasting it has me unfurling in seconds, and even though I can practically feel my parents’ scorching disapproval, it’s not enough to stop me from giving in when Aiden slides his hand into mine.

“My parents.” I sigh. “They left today without telling me, and it’s thrown me off.” That’s the nice way of putting it, and I can tell Aiden knows that by the annoyance that displaces his worry.

“Why in all the realms would they do that?”

“They gave a stupid excuse, but it doesn’t matter. I’m fine,” I promise, squeezing his hand.

“It matters,” Aiden argues while anger storms within those dark irises. “They don’t get to disrespect you like that. And when they get back, we’ll make sure they know it.”