Page 10 of Running with the Alpha’s Son (The Alpha’s Son #3)

Walter Bridgers throws his head back and laughs. At least someone is enjoying the party .

My hands clench into fists and for a moment I think I’m going to storm across the dance floor, interrupt his conversation, and tell the smarmy douche exactly what I think, but just then the doors to the patio slide open and Tobias Volk enters the room.

“Excuse me, Ladies and Gentlewolves,” he proclaims, his handlebar mustache wriggling like a caterpillar and his nasal voice piercing through the hubbub. “If you would please join me outside, we would like to celebrate the birth of our future alpha with you.”

With a grand gesture he steps aside and ushers people outside. The crowd begins to flood through the doors. Already people are streaming up the stairs.

“Max!” Jodie is among the stream of wolves ascending from the ground floor, her two friends, also in dresses that would fit in at a human quinceanera, on either side of her. “What are doing just standing there?”

“I—uh—”

“Come on, they’re cutting the cake.” Confidently, she slips her hand into mine and together we make our way outside.

Jodie pulls me through the crowd, unbashful about simply moving people out of her way, and before I know it we’ve emerged through the front line, met by a three-tiered cake, with royal-blue icing and gold details, so tall it might as well be a wedding cake. Jasper and Jericho are already there, framing the towering confection.

Jasper smiles apologetically.

“Hey,” I say, moving to stand next to him, while Jodie moves to stand with her father, who welcomes her in with a hand on her arm.

“Hi,” Jasper says. “Sorry about all this, it’ll be over quickly.”

“It’s fine.”

I glance up for the first time at the wall of faces looking back at me. Katie is there, looking less than happy, with her arms crossed and her mates on either side of her looking like they’ve been going at it on the dance floor, their shirts untucked, their top buttons undone, Simon’s tie askew. My parents shuffle sideways until they come into view, Mom raising her eyebrows at me and Dad giving me a proud little wave. Olivia is off to the side looking unimpressed. The Lykoses are smiling like they’re celebrating their own child’s birthday, and a step behind them is Walter. His head is lowered, casting a shadow over his eyes, which are leveled squarely at me. I clear my throat and look away as Jericho clears his throat.

“Tonight we are here to celebrate the birth of my son,” Jericho booms. “And while each year is an auspicious occasion, tonight is an especially important milestone in Jasper’s life. For the first time Jasper’s mate is with us to join the celebration.”

Excuse me?

Every eye turns to me, and the noise of their thoughts is a freight train coming at me. I squint, placing one foot slightly behind the other to brace myself against the impact.

“Maximilian is a courageous and determined young man. His spirit and vitality will be a welcome addition to the leadership of this pack.” Jasper slides an arm behind my back, maybe to show how proud he is as well, or maybe because he can sense my urgent need to retreat and is holding me in place. “So tonight let’s raise a glass to Jasper and his new mate. A welcome addition to my family!”

The crowd before me lift their drinks—everyone except Walter—and hold them there as Jericho reaches his crescendo. “Happy birthday, Jasper. Here’s to you and your mate!”

A cry of “Cheers!” erupts and I take the opportunity to wipe a bead of sweat from my forehead. In the third row Mom is wiping away a tear and Dad’s eyes have gone all red and sore looking. Olivia tips her glass in my direction with a raised brow. Katie applauds wholeheartedly, like she’s trying to prove a point.

“And now,” Tobias says, slipping through a gap in the front row, “cake!”

Jasper takes up a large knife and slices into the mammoth tower. The crowd applauds and a pair of servers emerge with plates. Jasper hands off the knife and they go to work carving up the frosted beast.

When the mass of wolves finally disperses I inhale like I’ve been holding my breath for hours and let my torso fall forward.

“Max?” Jasper rubs my back and leans closer so I can see him.

“I’m fine,” I say. “It was just like all the thoughts were concentrated for a moment.”

“You need to sit.” Jasper is looking around for a chair, but I have something more pressing to address.

“Why is Walter here?” I ask.

Jasper exhales, pouting like a model, and rubs his eyes. “I wish he wasn’t.”

“So? It’s your party. Don’t you get to choose who’s invited?”

“It doesn’t really work like that. This”—he swings his hand in a semicircle toward the party—“is more for the pack than for me.”

“I don’t understand. After what his son did, why does Walter still have a seat at the table?”

Jasper takes my elbow and leads me a little farther toward the railing.

“Walter holds the keys to the Elite Pack’s treasury. He controls the purse strings. That makes him incredibly influential. If my father has any hope of bringing the pack back together he needs Walter’s support. As much as I wish his whole family were sent to live with the rogues, it’s not an option. He has too much power.”

I scoff and look out across the water at Manhattan, at the shimmering towers lit up against the increasingly dark sky, twinkling like jewels. “I wouldn’t wish that upon the rogues.”

A tiny growl rolls in Jasper’s throat. “Rogues are still rogues.”

“You still believe that? After what we’ve seen? The people we’ve met?”

“Rogues are still the ones who kidnapped Aisha, who invaded my father’s house, who…”

Jasper trails off, his eyes drifting to the floor, but I know what he was going to say.

Who murdered my mother.

I soften. Tonight has already been too much without getting into a debate about whether or not rogues are good or bad or all the same even. I’m tired and, judging by the blank expression on Jasper’s face, so is he. All that schmoozing really takes it out of a wolf.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I get it. It’s not ideal, but I get it.” I slip my hand into Jasper’s and smile. “So, are you having a good birthday?”

He glances up, a smirk blooming in the corner of his lips. “It’s okay.” He steps closer, taking my other hand. “It could be better?” His lips hover less than an inch from mine.

“Oh yeah, what would make it better?”

“This.” He kisses me and all the noise in the world falls away. For a moment, as our lips connect and we can taste each other, it’s like there’s no one else here, my mind is clear. This is all that matters.

When we pull apart, Jasper holds my face, his thumbs soft on my cheeks. “I’m sorry tonight has been so hectic.”

“It’s not your fault. Like you said, this is a pack event. I just wish you were able to celebrate your birthday properly and…”

“What?”

“Well, it’s hard after being apart for so long. All I want is this.” I wrap my arms around him a little tighter. “But there’s so much small talk and noise, and politics. I keep thinking about Aisha and—”

“I know. I’m sorry that happened. I’ll speak to her tomorrow.”

We lean our foreheads together and his breath is a warm comfort on my lips.

“I just wish it could be us. Without all the rest.”

“Me too.”

We kiss again, a little more slowly this time, a little less playful, as if we’re trying to kiss away our problems.

“Is this a bad time?”

Jasper’s lips leave mine and I turn to find Melissa, a smug grin plastered on her otherwise welcoming face.

“Sorry,” she says. “I know you were having a moment. It’s just Mr. and Mrs. Fastolf wanted to wish you a happy birthday in person before they had to leave.”

I look to Jasper.

“Annette Fastolf is our foreign secretary and grand emissary in the north. She and Mr. Fastolf live in Rochester.”

“They need to get going if they’re going to get home before dawn,” Melissa finishes the thought. “Jasper?”

She gestures to the door but Jasper waits a beat, hesitant to leave me.

“Will you be okay?”

“Yes, go.”

I shove him gently and he takes my hand, holding on as long as he can until we’re standing with our arms outstretched, our fingers unable to keep their grip, and we break apart. He glances back one more time before slipping through the door and vanishing back into the party.

I can’t quite bear to go back in. Now that the cake has been served and night has settled in, onyx and endless over New York, the guests have gone inside for the most part. Only a couple of stragglers remain on the terrace and finally it feels quiet. The fuzz and the clouds have receded, and despite the dull throb that remains, I can stop focusing so much energy on keeping the noise at bay. I take a few deep breaths right down into the pit of my stomach.

Why does everything have to be so complicated? Maybe I should have expected this. After chasing Jasper for so long—so long I nearly gave up and turned back—I almost can’t believe how little thought I’ve given to what our future might hold. Someday, Jasper will be the alpha and I will be at his side, a figurehead, responsible for the pack, for our people. How am I supposed to lead when I can barely get through one night as Jasper’s officially recognized mate? Am I just not cut out for this life?

I never really wanted a boyfriend or a relationship until I met Jasper, and when I did I went all in. But there are so many strings, I’m like reverse-Pinocchio. You can hold me down.

The metal railing is cold under my hands as I lean against it. In the distance cars speed along FDR Drive, their head and taillights stretching into streaks of color. Manhattan looks kind of small from here, but I know it isn’t. There are over a million people on that island. How many of them are wolves? And how many more wolves are out there—in our pack, the packs at our borders, and beyond? How many rogues?

The moon is a big ball of cheese above me. I wonder if the gods are sitting in their palace looking down on me too. For some reason they’ve seen fit to gift me this power, this connection to all of wolfkind. And for what? So I can be responsible for even more wolves. But how can I do that when I don’t feel up to leading a single pack? And how do I start when my powers feel like more of a burden than anything else, a persistent migraine. Unwieldy, uncontrollable, unbearable.

With a heavy sigh I let my head drop. There are too many thoughts and too many doubts. Even without the noise my head aches.

All I want is to spend time with Jasper and figure out who we are when we’re together. None of the rest of it matters. Not when it’s this hard.

“It’s a beautiful night,” a smooth, male-sounding voice says. I spin to find Walter Bridgers standing a foot away. “Don’t you think?”

“Uh, yeah. I guess.”

“You don’t seem particularly joyful.”

Without asking if I’m in the mood for company Walter steps to my side, placing one calm hand on the railing.

“It’s a nice night,” I concede, wishing he’d leave me alone.

“It’s funny. For someone of your… stature , I would have thought all this would be a little more appealing.”

My stature? What the actual? “Excuse me?”

He shrugs and continues facing out to the water. “You’ve worked hard to get here, Maximilian. After everything you’ve done to reach these lofty heights, I expected you’d be a little more…grateful.”

What is this dude on?

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” He turns to face me, grinning like the devil. “Hmm?” He leans closer. “All of this. The parties, the connections. The alpha’s ear?”

I shake my damn head. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know you’re good at what you do.” He actually bumps his shoulders into mine, as if we’re old friends, as if we’re anywhere near being on the same page. “Somehow you’ve managed to claw your way from the soil and the sod into the alpha’s house. You’ve bent his ear. Turned his attention away from what really matters. Swayed him to all your modern, progressive ideals.”

My whole body is quivering—from anger or fear, I’m not sure. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

His smile drops, his face suddenly grave. “But I think I do, boy.”

“I need to go. If Jasper finds out you’re—”

Before I can step away his clawed hand grabs my upper arm in a viselike grip. I grunt but am powerless to extricate myself.

“Not so fast,” he says, a violent whisper. “I’ve been at the helm of this pack for a long time, boy. A long time. And I’ve dealt with more than my fair share of weeds like you. You sprout through the gaps in the concrete hoping to weasel your way to notoriety, to prove you’re somebody. But the truth is you’re nothing. You were born nothing and you will remain nothing.”

I tug harder, trying to free myself. “Get your hand off me.”

“You think you can do what you did to my son and get away with it?” he says, his fangs long and lashing. “I’ll stomp you out like I’ve stomped out every upstart who came before you. I’ll take everything you hold dear and destroy it.”

“If the alpha knew you were talking to me like this—”

“The alpha?” he says, almost laughing. “You think the alpha can save you. You have no idea where the real power lies.”

“Max?” Jasper’s voice is music to my ears. In a flash, Walter has released me and is smiling, acting cordially, as if nothing untoward had ever happened. Jasper steps toward us, confused but not the right level of worry considering what Walter just said. He mustn’t’ve caught much of our conversation. “Everything okay?”

“Wonderful,” Walter says with a flick of his hand. “A perfect evening. I was just acquainting myself with your astute young mate.” Jasper glances between us while I rub my arm. Walter has definitely left a bruise. “A wonderful addition to the pack’s royal family.”

“Thank you,” Jasper says curiously, as if he isn’t quite buying Walter’s act. Good.

“The two of you will have a bright, history-making future ahead of you, I’m sure.”

Why did that sound like a threat?

“You’re very kind,” Jasper says, bowing ever so slightly, then turning to me. “Max, your parents were asking after you. Shall we?”

“Yeah, okay.”

I slip past Walter and join Jasper as he makes his way to the door, but turn back one last time to find Walter still staring absolute daggers in my direction, grinning maniacally, and I’m pretty sure his fangs have elongated once more.

I expected him to be angry about what happened to Clayton but I never thought he would be outrightly hostile—and in a public setting. He mustn’t be afraid of much.

As we make our way back into the party, nodding at Jasper’s guests and smiling like good figureheads, I can’t help remembering what Walter said. You have no idea where the real power lies.

All of my life I thought Jericho was the ultimate power, the end of the line, top of the heap. If I was wrong…who is?