Page 14

Jaxson

MY FATHER HAD been helping take care of the dishes and leftovers when most of us, with the exception of the elders and Kubrick, went down to meet with Xander and Billie. We were on our way to the security office to watch the girl talk when he caught up with us. After hearing what we had planned, he insisted on being present, that he needed to hear for himself the part she played in all of this.

The security office on this floor is not made for more than two, maybe three, people, so we all squeezed in as best we could, with two of the four monitors, one high, one low, set to broadcast the feeds from the interview room. White assured us that everything was being recorded, and DeLuca went even further by setting his phone on the narrow desk recording the bottom screen. DeLuca and White were seated in the two mesh office chairs, leaving the rest of us standing, with me directly behind White, and Xander behind DeLuca. Ethan crammed his thinner frame into the corner near Xander, leaving my father closest to me, peering in from the open doorway.

At first, I was more caught up in the jaw-dropping, how-did-we-not-know? social manipulation skills of Xander’s mother. She was almost Machiavellian (I think) in how she planned everything, played the game, played my mother. My eyes kept drifting to my mate. In the beginning, I couldn’t help but smile, watching her head move back and forth between the two women like it was a penalty shootout to determine the World Cup. She engaged as little as possible while managing to retain a blank face, something I know is difficult for her. Pretty sure the snacks helped. All the while, Luna Ophelia toyed with my mother like a well-fed, captive tiger batting around a little mouse that wandered into her cage.

My enjoyment and astonishment fizzled as the words, the admissions, coming from my mother’s mouth penetrated my ears, sank into consciousness, and ripped apart my heart. It’s not just the words, it’s the casual way she and Xander’s mom talked about her cheating on my father, like it was common knowledge and had been for years. She talked about her infidelity with pride, wearing her whoredom like a badge of honor.

I glance at my father, expecting to see him curled in on himself, hanging his head in hurt and shame at hearing her admission. But that’s not what I find. He’s leaning against the doorjamb, ankles crossed and arms folded over his chest in a posture of resigned indifference. My mouth dries, and my stomach somersaults, the truth swallowing me up like a sinkhole under my feet. He knew. He knew all along and never once did he give me any indication that he did.

It’s not until Veronica starts speaking about her involvement in what happened to me that I see a change in my father. He pushes off the doorjamb, his casual posture morphing into one of rigid anger. He seems to grow larger, taller, wider, and his normally soft brown eyes harden. His attention is utterly fixated on the screen.

My own emotions start swirling when I hear her mention my inability to distinguish my mate’s scent. As if she knew exactly what had me feeling the most shameful and plucked those private insecurities from my head like petals from a freakin’ daisy. Heat flashes over my skin, and I quickly bow my head in an effort to hide, while my arms wind around my waist, balling in on myself, trying to hold myself together. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have been so gullible? How could I ever think that smell was my mate?

Then the smack across the face, the shattering of any hope I had in her possible redemption: the rabid proclamation of the part she’d played in all of this. She knew I’d resist and now freely talks of incapacitating me, of seeking out the necessary drugs. She took away my freedom to move and my free will, so casually, so purposefully. And she fucking bargained for it. How’d that conversation go? I’ll give you the drugs to ensure your son is raped and bonded to someone other than his true-mate if you provide me with the data and additional resources . Did she honestly think that if Amber succeeded, I wouldn’t fight? That I wouldn’t retaliate? That’d I just lie down and take it?

“I am not as weak as you think,” I snarl, and the sentiment is echoed by a low growl from the doorway. My head flies up to meet my father’s fiery gaze. We stare at each other, seeing our own reflections in the other, and we share a realization. We’ve not shown all of ourselves. Does everyone else think we’re weak? Does our playfulness, our desire to have fun and enjoy life portray us as soft and easily taken advantage of?

My eyes slide to Xander and Ethan, who, having clearly sensed the tumultuous emotions rising from my father and me, are gazing between us with cautious expressions. Xander is now the alpha of a wolf pack, the largest in the east. Ethan and I are his betas. If my own mother thinks I’m this weak and vulnerable, what must the rest of the pack think? Would wolves from other packs or rogue shifters see me as the weak link? Could that perception bring about more attacks on our pack or on Xander? All because I’m not considered a threat? Does my presence give them no pause or reason to think otherwise? Am I considered a pushover?

My eyes fix on Ethan, and I know no one thinks he’s weak. Most of the pack is wary of him, and have been since before he shifted even. I know him differently, but I now see the benefit in him acting as he has: aloof and indifferent, some would say cold and unfeeling. He may not have done it for the purpose of one day being in a position of leadership, but the persona he’s portrayed serves him well. Serves our alpha well. I can’t let others believe I am weak. I can’t be seen as irrelevant, not when my alpha’s life may depend on it. Not when my mate’s life could be at stake.

All that shame I feel from being taken the way I was—from being attacked, assaulted, and helpless—turns to anger. Anger at myself. Anger at those who thought to take advantage, thought I’d not put up a fight. My vision bleeds to red, and it is mirrored by the fierceness in my father’s eyes.

“We’re done here,” I snarl. Dipping his chin in agreement, he turns around and storms down the hallway with me hot on his heels, leaving everyone in the room scrambling to follow us.

“Jax,” Xander calls out, his hand on my shoulder slowing my approach. “Jax, hold up talk to me. Talk to us.”

My father is already at the door to the interview room. Sutherland’s eyes widen as my father demands he open the door. Sutherland flicks an uneasy gaze to his alpha, and Xander shakes his head. “No, not until we get things straight. What are you planning on doing? I can’t let you go in there without a plan. You can’t just react or go after someone who’s supposedly under diplomatic immunity.”

“I won’t do anything,” my dad grinds out before drawing in a jagged breath and adding, “drastic.”

“She needs to see our beta side.” I bite out, slashing an arm toward the door of the interview room. “She can’t just get away with it, and she sure as fuck can’t leave here thinking that I’m weak, that I’ll allow anyone to hurt me or those important to me without retaliation. That I’ll silently take the assault and let her leave. She needs to be put in her place.”

Ethan slinks up alongside Xander, his energy calm and calculating as he gazes around the three of us before settling on Xander. Scrubbing his chin between the knuckle of his index finger and his thumb, he says, “They have a point, Xander. She’s going to the Midwest Pack. You and your wolf beat Hogan, a respected and powerful alpha, a councilman, in a one-on-one duel. And you weren’t even an alpha of your own pack at the time. Obviously, he’s skilled and practiced enough in the politics of it all to maintain his composure, to accept defeat with his chin held high. But don’t think for a second that he’s not embarrassed. Humiliated.” Ethan scoffs a humorless laugh. “He will spin the story to serve him, to put him in the best light possible, to give the illusion of him choosing to let you win, him relinquishing to you, rather than him losing to you. You know with Veronica by his side, he’ll let her be her. She’ll not only support his version of events but will add... credibility through her own stories of growing up in our pack, of you and me as abused and orphaned children, of her son and his father, and of her incorrect assessment of our strength. We can’t let her leave here without showing a memorable sign of strength.” He turns to me. “Jax, I know you’re strong. I know Blondie’s a hell of a warrior. Either of us could have been taken as you had.”

“No,” I snap and point a shaky finger at him. “Not you, Ethan. You would not have been fooled. You would have questioned. You would have been on guard, suspicious. You may have gotten drugged, but you’d never have walked into those woods.” I can’t believe I walked into those woods.

“They messed with her scent, Jax,” he argues. “They used her scent to trick you, and scent for us is more important than any other sense. It blinds us.” He pauses, and his lips tick up on one side. “But I’m still all for you and your dad letting her see the wolves inside. Let her leave here with her tail tucked between her legs.”

We all turn to Xander. He stands there, glancing around the group of us, breathing in and out through his nose, contemplating, assessing. He bobs his head, eyes swinging between my father and me. “I agree on a display of strength,” he affirms and sweeps his gaze to Ethan. “E has made a valid argument for it. However...” He raises his brows and crosses his arms over his chest, eyes on my father. “Jax should be the one who leaves a lasting impression. If it’s to be about the pack as a whole, about how we’re perceived from the outside, then it serves the pack if our beta is the one to deliver the message.”

A deep growl resounds from my father’s chest. His teeth grind with the restraint to hold it in, and he nods once in understanding.

Xander steps in front of me. He places one hand on my shoulder while cupping the side of my face with the other, forcing me to meet his eyes. He stares at me for way too long, longer than I want in the state I’m in, but he’s my alpha, my bonded alpha, my pack-mate, and I can’t seem to tear myself away. He leans forward until his cool cheek is pressed against my hot one, and he whispers into my ear. “Be strong. Be fierce. Show her what our enemies have to fear. Show her the wolf inside, but remember betas protect from the outside and from within. If they’re only feared by our pack members, they’ll never be entrusted to care for them. Warriors to our enemies, protectors to our pack. There needs to be a different approach for both. Ethan and I need you, Jax, as you have always been. Our mate needs her playmate, and our pack needs a beta that’s approachable, that makes them feel safe to come to, to open up to. Understood?”

The gentle hold of his hand on my jaw, the feel of his mouth moving against my ear, the kneading of his fingers on my shoulder—it all dampens the flames of rage burning inside me, while his words brush away the shame like a broom sweeping dirt off a porch. I can think clearly again, remember I am not just a pack-mate but a leader now, and I need to act as such. I let out a long exhale and say, “Yes, Alpha.”

Xander pulls back and brings our foreheads together, the hand on my jaw slipping around to cradle the back of my head. My hand instinctively moves to hold him in a similar manner. His eyes glow bright blue and white, and he growls. “Good. Now show that bitch the wolf you are, the mate you are, and the fucking beta you are.”

My lips curl into a savage grin, and I assert, “Yes, Alpha.” We release. Blondie rises within me. Erecting my spine and cracking my neck, I turn to my father and lowly growl, “Ready?”

“I think I’ve been waiting for this opportunity longer than I care to admit,” he replies, his voice steady while his brown eyes begin to glow, and his body seems to vibrate with an unseen force.

“Let’s not keep you waiting any longer,” I assert, stepping behind him.

Xander tips his chin to Sutherland. “Open the door. Close it when the four of us are inside. Wait for my knock.”

“Understood, Alpha,” he answers with a crooked grin and a gleam of anticipation in his eyes.

Sutherland plugs in the code on the lock. The flash of green light and the beeping of the alarm disengaging loosens the leash my father has on his wolf. Beta power whirls around him as he grips the metal handle and flings the door open, stalking into the room with me hurrying to catch up. I place a hand on his shoulder, and his energy zaps along my skin, causing my power to react like heat lightning striking between the clouds of a midsummer storm.

I feel several sets of eyes on us, but we’re only focused on one set: eyes I had loved to look into, seeing that mine were so much alike; eyes that used to remind me of a spring sky, bright and cheerful after the gray of winter—a sky that darkened as I grew older and her gaze became slitted in judgment and disapproval.

Those blue eyes bulge in shock at the disruption but quickly narrow in disgust when they latch onto my father. “Gerald,” she huffs, sitting up taller in her seat and flattening out the skirt of her dress. She waves a limp backhand through the air. “Stop with this nonsense. No amount of begging or promises will lure me back into your bed. We’re through,” she admonishes. “William is gone, but his passing doesn’t change anything between us. I’ve moved on, moved on from you, from William, and from this pack.”

Her statement, her assumption, stuns my father, the shock dulling his anger. “My bed?” my father repeats, brows lifted to his hairline. “You think all this time, all these years of me staying with you, of me keeping the light on, was so I could have you back in my bed?” His mouth opens into a baffled smile, and he slaps his thigh, cackling. “Oh, that’s rich. That’s really rich, Roni! Why on earth would I want you in my bed when every wolf with a pulse was already in yours? A little crowded, if you ask me!”

My mate chokes on her bark of laughter, or a fruit snack, and begins coughing. Ethan walks over to check on her. My mother’s face pinkens in embarrassment, but hearing my mate’s enjoyment at her expense has her quickly reining in her emotions, and she manages to reprise her posture of superiority.

My father stands tall and closes the few strides between them. The smile falls from his face, and the corners of his eyes pull down as he bends over and places his hands on the back of her chair, caging her in. “No, Roni,” he says in a soft voice. “No. I stayed because whether you like it or not, we’re bonded, and I know what lies at the center of you, behind the cutting comments and the social-climbing ways. I know the wolf pup that’s still curled up in a corner, wondering why her daddy didn’t love her enough to go to her dance recital. The wolf pup who sat all alone, staring at her birthday cake and the empty seats around the table, her candles burning just for her. The little girl whose mother blamed her for her father not wanting to be home. The little girl who tried to cook dinner for her mommy, only to end up getting punished for making a mess. The teenager who wore hand-me-downs and secondhand clothes while all the other teens had new clothes every fall.”

Tears shine in my mother’s eyes, and her arms hug tight around her waist, but she doesn’t give in. She lifts her chin up higher and sucks those tears back. “That was decades ago,” she contests with a click of her tongue. “That little girl no longer exists.”

“I know,” my father agrees, true sorrow pulling at his words. “I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to believe that the sweetest part of you was gone, but now I know. You killed her. You killed the kindest part of you. Because if any of that little girl was left”—the softness in his voice diminishes, and each word becomes clipped and sharp-edged— “you’d never have done what you did to our son. You’d never have helped take away his free will. You—” His knuckles turn white with his grip on the chair tightening. “That little girl would never have drugged our son.” Tension snakes through his arms, and his body rattles with the rage coiling through him. He brings his face a scant few centimeters from hers and spits out. “You helped her rape him. Rape , Veronica!” My mother recoils from his words, his tone. “SHE TRIED TO RAPE HIM! How? How could you? What kind of person, what kind of mother, would help their child get raped?”

She averts her eyes and drops her head to her chest. Not letting her hide, he snatches her chin in one hand and lurches her to standing. Holding her high enough, her toes barely skim the floor in her pumps. My father’s eyes glow a molten bronze, and the air pulses with so much power, I feel the beat between my ears, a thumping bass. My mother’s eyes glow bright blue in response.

In a stomach-hollowing voice, he commands, “Heel, bitch.”

Through her gaping mouth my mother inhales a garbled breath, and her eyes dim. He hauls her face to his. Windmilling her arms for balance, she grips at his shoulders, only to hiss in pain and quickly tear them away as if she’d been burned. “We are through,” he asserts. No compassion. No sorrow. No remorse. “You tore the light lit for you from its socket. You burned the extended hand. You broke the arms offering a tender embrace. You tore down the safe haven I erected just for you. You did this. I never cared about how others looked at me. I would have taken the talking behind my back, the embarrassment and shame of my mate stepping out on me, just so you could have a place to go. But...” His entire body expands, and his grip on her chin slides down to her throat. “I’ll never stand by and let anyone hurt my son. You don’t deserve my love, or his.” He then throws her down into the chair with enough force she topples over. He steps away and turns his back on her.

She’s still in shock and scrambling on the floor, clumsily trying to find her feet, when I crouch over her. I grip her by her crunchy bun and yank her up to standing.

She lets out startled cries and yelps of dismay. “Alpha!” she screams, her bugged-out eyes frantically jumping around the room. “Alpha Knight!” she calls out again, her wide teary eyes pleading as Xander comes to stand at my back. “You can’t let them do this to me! To treat me this way! I’m a member of your pack, and I have diplomatic immunity!” she protests.

Xander cants his head to the side, and his brows dip down while he scratches his chin in contemplation. “I haven’t received any paperwork regarding this theoretical diplomatic immunity, and paperwork is highly important when it comes to maintaining order in packs. My father taught me that.” He shrugs a shoulder. “As far as you being pack, you never accepted me as your alpha, so as of now, you are not a member of this pack, and you have in fact admitted to aiding in the assault of my beta. I don’t see how I can really help you here.”

I grip her harder by the hair and drag her over to the wall, shoving her against it before clamping my hand around her neck, not enough to bruise but enough to control. “You’ve gotten your wish, Veronica,” I scowl, my eyes glowing bright. I watch in delight as her stunned gaze ping-pongs between my eyes. “I am no longer your son because you are no longer my mother.” The statement feels truer than ever before, as I know that when I look in the mirror, I’ll see the green of my mate’s eyes shining back at me.

My wolf growls for more, and I give in to him, letting Blondie take control. He roars through my chest, a deep low bass that I’ve not felt from him before. The top of my head prickles with the vibration, and I feel it build and build until it cracks like the shell of an egg, the energy oozing over my skin and sending little zaps through my body as it seeps into my pores. Blondie cranes his head back as if he, too, feels the energy coating us, entering us.

His roar intensifies and condenses, rippling the air, and he aims it all at my mother. His low, thrumming resonance holds a physical presence. At first, she squirms in my hold, but he roars louder, clearer, more precise. I feel it close in around her, and all she can do is stare at me while her body stiffens and her mouth gapes open in horror. Then I hear it. The sound of liquid splashing down on tile fills the room. Inhaling, I know what’s happened. I manage to hold my expression, hold my glare, while inside, Blondie’s roar is broken apart by his own cackles. Oh so proud of himself. So perfect.

“Looks like you tinkled yourself, Veronica,” I sing in a mocking tune. “Are you so weak you can’t even control your own bladder? If my roar alone has you pissing yourself, imagine what else I could do?” I squeeze her throat a little tighter and hiss. “Think on that because I assure you, if you ever so much as take a step of aggression toward me, my mate, my alpha, or our pack again, urine won’t be the only fluid leaking from you.” Without warning, I release my hold on her, and she collapses to the floor like a broken doll, lying in a pool of her own piss.

I look down at my boots and then peer at her and dramatically sigh. “At least you managed to only soil yourself. I do like these boots.” Then I turn from her to face Xander. “I don’t care what you do. I’ll support whatever decision you make. I’m done with her, Alpha.” I extend my arm out to the side, and my mate leans into the space, her space. Her arms wrap around my waist, and her head snuggles against the side of my chest. I tuck her in tighter and bury my face into the top of her head, inhaling her scent, determined to never let myself be fooled again.

“I’ll have Sutherland or White escort her back to holding,” Xander replies in a stilted voice. As if he’s just as shocked about what my wolf and I did. His gaze circles the three of us, Ethan having followed Billie over. Xander blows out a breath. “I still have to meet with Amber and deal with Hogan, then figure out when I’ll be meeting the rest of the wolves.”

Ethan’s gaze takes us all in. “Why don’t you and one of us go deal with Amber, and the rest of us can come up with some options for Hogan?”

“I think E should go with you to deal with Amber,” Billie suggests. Snuggling deeper into me, she looks up at Xander with fluttering lashes and a devious smirk. “If I go, I may just forgo this whole process and take her out. If Jax goes, she won’t be focused on you, but on him.”

Ethan bobs his head in agreement. “That’s fine with me.”

“As it is with me,” Xander agrees, then looks at Billie. “What if there’s discussion on her permanent wound?”

“Is it a now-or-never type of situation?” Billie asks.

“No,” Luna Ophelia provides, stepping up between Xander and me. “I’m pretty sure she could heal it if we were to cut off the infected portion and have her shift into wolf form. I don’t think the option is indefinite, but deciding right now or tomorrow shouldn’t make a difference. At least a couple of weeks before I’d be concerned of anything being permanent.”

“Then not now,” Billie surmises with a sweet smile. Huffing out a short laugh, I hug her in tightly to me and press a kiss to her head.