Page 7 of Running with the Alpha’s Son (The Alpha’s Son #3)

A team of five gamma wolves, security officers from Alpha Jericho’s forces, are outside my house. Big people dressed in black suits and wool trench coats, wearing the same sunglasses—must be standard issue—poking around in bushes, wandering the perimeter of our property, and talking into their earpieces. I feel like the president or some big pop star with private bodyguards. Like Whitney Houston or something.

“Seriously, Jasper, I think this might be overkill.”

“Until we know who did this I’m not taking any chances,” he says through the phone.

“My neighbors are going to think there’s a bomb threat or something.”

Jasper twists his lips together and doesn’t say anything.

“You think there could be a bomb?!”

“We don’t know yet,” he says. “Clearly we’ve upset some people. I’m…” He stumbles and pauses. “I’m sorry it’s affecting you. I should be there.”

I roll my eyes and smile. “It’s just a bit of paint. Sure, it’s not ideal, but I don’t think I’m in imminent danger.”

“Still, I said I would keep you safe.”

Oy, this again. “We have a SWAT team combing the area for suspects,” I say. “We’re going to be safe.”

“Are your parents home yet?”

Speak of the wolf-devil. My mom’s car is slowly pulling up the drive. She and Dad carpool to the train and I usually beat them home after school. They pull to a stop as one of the security guards approaches. Mom rolls down her window, looking from the guard to the garage and to the house, possibly scanning for further damage. Dad jumps out his side and approaches the garage door. Begrudgingly, Mom puts the car in park, rolls up her window, and exits the car as well. Why aren’t they letting them park in the garage? Maybe something to do with contaminating a crime scene.

The beefy security guards shepherd my parents toward the door.

“They’ve just arrived,” I say, turning my attention back to Jasper, who’s still waiting for my reply. “I should go talk to them.”

“Okay.”

“And you should get to class. Don’t flunk out of Harvard because of me.”

“I’ll call you later,” he says and hangs up.

“Max!” Mom is calling for me before they’ve even made it halfway inside.

“In here!”

Mom and Dad arrive in the living room with wide, concerned eyes. Dad is scratching the back of his head and Mom has her arms out, coming straight for me.

“Are you okay?” She grabs me into a tight hug.

“I won’t be if you break my ribs,” I squeak out.

“Who did this?” she asks. I can only shrug in return.

“What does it mean? Traitor ?” Dad asks, not to anyone in particular.

I sigh and run a hand over my face. “We think it’s for me. Because I’ve…I dunno, corrupted the alpha’s son, disrupted the family line or something.”

“That’s nonsense,” Mom says, turning to Dad for support.

“Absolute horse manure,” Dad says.

My folks are the best, always trying to be supportive, if not a little naive. I shake my head and shrug again, in a way that says This is just how the world works. The wolf world especially.

Mom stops looking at Dad and holds me in front of her, studying my face like she’s looking for obvious signs of distress, or physical injuries. Then before I know it she’s hugging me again, holding my head to her chest and stroking my hair.

“I’m so sorry, kiddo. It isn’t fair.”

She’s right, it isn’t fair. For most kids, having their first boyfriend is fun and exciting. For most wolves, finding your mate is something to celebrate, a wonderful gift for the community, the continuation of the species.

For me and Jasper, it’s a political statement—one not everyone is on board with, apparently.

“Thanks,” I mumble.

One of the security dudes pokes his head around the entrance to the living room, disrupting our semi-cozy moment. “We’ve searched the perimeter. You’re all clear. Whoever did this didn’t stick around. They must have just wanted to send a message.”

Message received. Hooray for them!

“Thanks,” Dad says.

“The alpha has requested two wolves be positioned outside for the next forty-eight hours. You’ll be safe.”

“Great,” Mom says, though she doesn’t sound so enthusiastic. I’m with her. I just want to be left alone.

“People are jerks,” Katie says, glancing at me from her lawn chair then turning back toward the garage door and calling out to Todd and Simon, who are in the middle of painting over the graffiti. “Keep up the good work boys!”

The bro-twins look over their shoulders and wave. Katie waves back and I nod my head from my seat. I felt a little weird about dragging these chairs from the back patio to the front lawn just to watch someone else paint over the graffiti that was meant for me, but now that we’re here it’s sort of fun—plus, from the way Todd and Simon are splattering each other with paint and chasing each other around like a couple of regular pups, they seem to be enjoying themselves.

“Thanks for coming,” I say. “And bringing reinforcements.”

“Of course. It’s really shitty of whoever did this. I hope Jericho finds them and excommunicates them.”

“Whoa, extreme much?”

Katie blushes. “Sorry, it just makes me really angry.”

Todd swipes his brush across the top of the T , the red disappearing behind the olive green my parents chose to repaint the door.

“Me too,” I say.

“I bet Jasper was steamed. I’m surprised he didn’t race back when he heard.”

“I had to convince him not to.”

“That’s sweet.” She glares at the garage and leans forward. “You missed the dot above the i !”

Simon looks from the door to Katie, shoots her a little salute with his paintbrush, and reaches up to green-out the dot.

“I’ll be seeing him soon anyway. He’s coming back for his birthday and spring break.”

“Oooh, boyfriend’s first birthday. Do you know what you’re going to get him?”

“No clue. Seriously, I’m more worried about that than whoever did this.”

“Really?” Katie says, skeptically chewing her bottom lip.

I laugh. “Mmm, I guess not. I am concerned about the party.”

“That’s right!” Katie says, eyes lighting up. “Jasper’s annual birthday ball. I can’t believe we’re both going this year!”

My shoulders slump forward. “Yeah.”

Jasper’s birthday isn’t just a familial affair. The whole pack celebrates the birth of the alpha’s son and every year a big event is held in his honor. It’s basically like a national holiday, only for werewolves.

“You’re not excited?”

“It’s just, since Jasper and I have been together properly we’ve barely seen each other, and he’s only in town for a week. A lot of that time is already booked up with meetings his father wants him to attend. We only have so much time, and the one night it would have been nice to do something just the two of us, we have to spend it with the crusty upper class of the Elite Pack. It’s not exactly romantic.”

“It’s nice though that he wants you there. It’ll be your first official appearance in front of the pack. It’s a big deal.”

“I suppose.” I take a long, deep breath and watch as the final strokes of paint cover up the red lettering. The word is gone. But I can’t help repeating it over and over again in my mind. Traitor. It’s scrawled on the back of my eyelids just like it was on the door. Is that what people think of me? Is that what the pack thinks of me? “I’ll tell you who is excited about being invited to their first big pack event.”

Katie leans over the arm of her chair excitedly. “Who?”

“Them.” I point in the direction of Mom and Dad, who have just appeared in the open doorway of the house, coming out to appraise the boys’ handiwork.

Katie squeals a little. “Cute!”

“Attending my first official event as the mate of the alpha’s son and my parents are coming…I can’t wait.”

Spring break rolls around, thankfully without another incident like Graffitigate, as I’ve taken to calling it. The last few weeks Jasper has been especially hard to reach, torn between exams, finishing up papers, and traveling to meet with more pack dignitaries—lately he’s been focusing on the five small packs along our southern border.

Even though Jasper hasn’t wanted to out of fear it’ll induce another migraine attack, I’ve tried a few times to access the mind-link. With no success. Each time I close my eyes to focus on my blood-wolf connection, exploring the endless sea of consciousness, I wind up clutching my head and groaning into my pillow. The dull headache that follows has become a constant companion. I might be holding up the aspirin market single-handedly.

As I wait for the elevator to arrive on the sixty-eighth story of the packhouse, where Jericho—and therefore Jasper’s—city apartment is located, I rub my temple and close my eyes, hoping my last hit of painkillers will kick in any minute.

The doors ping open and I wander out into a large living area. The floors are black marble, which reflects the view of Manhattan shining in through the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows.

By the elevator is a black grand piano with an oversized vase and an explosive bouquet of tropical flowers erupting from it in a plume of bright colors. In front of me, a set of perfectly white sofas are arranged around a large stone coffee table and white rug. This place looks like a display home, like no one actually lives here. Beyond the sofas is a long dining table, a slab of white marble long enough to sit twelve or thirteen guests at least. Artwork hangs on the walls opposite the windows. One looks like a bona fide Monet and one I think is a Pollock, the abstract squiggly lines reminding me of the red tendrils that represent each wolf in my mind.

“Max!” Jodie comes bounding from a doorway between the two paintings, dressed like a princess. She wraps her little arms around my waist and I hug her back.

“Hey Jodie, it’s nice to see you.”

“You too. You know you don’t have to wait for Jasper to come home to visit.”

“I know. I’m sorry. You excited for the party?”

She steps back, scrunching up her face. “Not really. It’ll probably be boring like all the others. I’d rather you and Jasper just hung out with me here.”

“You don’t have any friends coming?”

“Just Jessica and Mandy from school, but they’ll probably want to talk about boys the whole time.” On the word boys she rolls her eyes like she couldn’t think of anything less interesting.

“Ugh, that sounds lame,” I say, very aware of just how boy obsessed I’ve been for the last nine months.

“It’s very lame,” she says.

“What’s lame?” I glance up to find Jasper, leaning ever so casually next to the Pollock, looking crazy handsome in a sleek new suit, his hair slicked back, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Boys,” I shoot straight back at him.

“Uh, yes,” he nods, grinning at me. “Boys. The lamest.”

I can’t help grinning back at him. After three months of not seeing him in person, taking in the sight of him feels like coming up for air. My teeth vibrate with giddy excitement, my legs are immediately a couple of gelatinous poles, wobbling all over the place, my chest swings open like a cuckoo clock, my heart pounds.

Jodie is eyeing us, glancing back and forth with a suspicious glare. “You two are being gross, aren’t you?”

“Why don’t you go finish getting ready, Stink Face?” Jasper asks, stepping toward me.

“I am ready,” she protests.

“I think you could be more ready.”

She rolls her eyes. “Okay I get it, you want to be alone with your booooyfriend . You could have just said.”

“Thanks, Stinky,” Jasper says.

Jodie stomps past him. We wait until she’s gone, then our eyes meet and we collide. Jasper pulls me into his arms and plants a passionate kiss on my lips.

“I’ve missed you,” he says when we finally come up for air.

“I’ve missed you too.” Reluctantly I let go of Jasper with one arm and pull the rolled-up present from the inside pocket of my white suit jacket. “Happy birthday.”

“You didn’t need to—”

“Shut up,” I say. “Of course I did. Though it’s not much…”

Eagerly I eye Jasper, studying his face, every micro-expression and twitch of muscle, as he unwraps his gift. He drops the wrapping paper on the floor and unfurls the piece of paper. For a long time he stares at the drawing I made for him, his brow furrowed, and for a painful moment I’m worried he hates it. He has everything in the world. Why would he want a dumb drawing of us onstage at New Year’s?

“It’s—”

I don’t let him finish his thought. “I based it off a photo someone took at the party. It’s okay, I could have done more shading, especially on the arm there”—I point at the picture—“see?”

“Max, it’s perfect. Thank you.”

With a firm hand he pulls me toward him and kisses me again. And he keeps kissing me, until I think my feet might leave the floor. The dull ache in my mind drifts away and I lean into his embrace. Then before I know it he’s pulling away.

“I—I have some bad news,” he says, his thumb running over my cheek.

“What is it?”

“There’s something we have to do before we can leave for the party.”

“What’s that?”

“Actually, it’s more of a someone .”

I shoot him a confused look. Why is he talking in riddles? What could be so bad he’s scared of telling me?

“Someone?”

“My dad. He wants to speak with you before we go.”

Oh. The last time I spoke to Alpha Jericho was at the New Year’s party, when I was giving him a piece of my mind, telling him to step up his parenting game. He didn’t look pleased then and I can’t imagine he’s anymore pleased now that Jasper and I have messed up relations with Morven and the other packs.

“I’m sorry,” Jasper says. “Hopefully, it’ll only take a second.”

A second? Is that how long it’ll take for Jericho to hand me my ass?

“Uh, sure,” I say.

And as Jasper takes my hand and leads me to a corridor, I have a distinct feeling I’m being led to my death.