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My Best Friend the Alpha

Page 8

by Marcy Jacks


  He wasn’t a child, and he wasn’t the girl of the relationship. If his dad thought Declan needed his permission to be with Chris, and if Declan thought he needed that permission, then both men had another thing coming.

  He just hoped his dad didn’t ask about the bandage Chris put on his throat when he went into the bathroom.

  He stepped outside then stopped short as the automatic lights flicked on and he saw who was there.

  Declan, yes, and two other men Chris did not recognize.

  One of them happened to look like an older, more grizzled version of Declan, with longer, shaggy auburn hair, and it wasn’t a stretch to realize this was probably Declan’s father and the other men was a member of his pack.

  “Oh shit.”

  Chris ran back inside.

  Chapter Nine

  A howl of laughter sounded the instant he slid the bolt lock into place, and all Chris could think about was how much he wished he’d stayed in bed.

  “Dad!”

  His father had the key to the gun room. That would help.

  “Dad!”

  He was not about to leave the door. As though his standing there would prevent the shifters outside from getting in.

  It wouldn’t. He was being ridiculous, but he didn’t care.

  He looked out the window.

  Declan’s father pointed at him and laughed, and now that they were no longer keeping their voices down, Chris could make out everything they were saying.

  “You bit him! You actually bit him!”

  No.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Declan said. “Chris! Stay inside! Don’t come out for anything.”

  As if Chris needed to be told that, but he would have preferred to follow that command with Declan in here with him.

  The lights in the house turned on, and his father and mother rushed out into the living room, both looking tired in the eyes, his mom still wearing her old pink housecoat while his dad wore boxers and his house slippers.

  As though Chris’ call had yanked him out of bed so fast he couldn’t be bothered with putting anything else on.

  “What? What is it?”

  They took one look at him and saw how serious the situation was.

  Chris pointed at the door, trying not to say anything for fear the shifters outside would hear it.

  His father took the hint and eased forward, looking out the window and, with a growl of his own, turned and went for his gun room.

  Chris’ mom held her hands over her mouth before approaching.

  “Baby, what’s happening?”

  “You should go back to bed, Mom. Get out your phone and call the police. Just hide or something, please?”

  She shook her head. “No, you’re coming with me.”

  Chris couldn’t pay much attention to her as his focus was pulled back to what was happening outside.

  Declan’s father took a step toward him. “You fucking serious with that shit? You mated with him! It’s done!”

  “And I am not sharing him!”

  “What are they talking about, sweetie?”

  Chris thought he had an idea, and there was no way he was repeating it to his mother.

  His dad came back, rifle in hand and the nastiest expression on his face Chris had ever seen.

  He’d once shoplifted from a corner store. Just a soda and a Slim Jim, but the heat in his old man’s eyes back then, when he’d caught Chris with the goods, had been nothing compared to what he looked like now.

  “Out of the way, both of you.”

  “Carl, you can’t go out there!”

  “I’m going, and you’re moving!”

  Chris and his mother knew better than to get in Dad’s way when he had a gun. Not out of fear of him shooting them, but Chris had been raised with guns around. He knew the rules.

  Don’t ever fuck around when there was a loaded gun in the room. A loaded gun was to be treated like Jesus Christ. With respect and just a little bit of fear. Don’t mess with it or push your luck, and it wouldn’t smite you.

  So Chris moved, but he had to tell his dad at least one thing. “Declan isn’t with them, Dad. He’s protecting the house.”

  He really hoped his father heard that. The man looked as though he had tunnel vision as he exited the house.

  “Lock the door behind me!” he barked.

  Chris looked at the back of his dad’s head then at Declan, who stared at Chris as though asking what the hell this was supposed to be.

  Chris mouthed that he was sorry and shut and locked the door.

  He wanted to be out there, but there were some things in the world he feared more than a group of shifters who wanted a piece of him.

  His dad giving him the look was one of them, and considering his old man had a gun, Chris figured it was best to stay out of the way.

  That didn’t mean he was going to leave, and as his mother tried to pry him away from the door, Chris shrugged her away, putting a finger to his lips.

  “We see you in there!” Declan’s father cawed.

  Immediately, Chris thought the guy was a massive asshole.

  Even if Chris wasn’t a wolf soul, it was no wonder his friend hadn’t wanted him around when they were kids.

  Chris wouldn’t want to be around that guy no matter what the circumstances.

  Then his dad pointed the business end of his rifle in Declan’s father’s face.

  “Get off my property, freak. You’re not wanted here.”

  The shifters looked at the weapon, quiet now, but either they were hiding their concern exceptionally well or they weren’t concerned at all about having a gun pointed at them.

  Declan’s father looked to Declan, as though asking if he was going to put up with this.

  Declan shrugged. “The man spoke loud and clear, Dad. You have to go.”

  Declan’s father glared at him, his face slowly twisting into a nasty expression that even made Chris shiver.

  “You’re just going to hoard him all to yourself?”

  “He’s my mate. That’s kind of the point.”

  “Bullshit!”

  “Baby, we have to hide.”

  Chris shook his head, staying right where he was, looking out the window, needing to see, and hear, what was happening out there.

  Chris was never going to understand this. Why were some shifters so mellow about the idea of wolf souls and the others seemed to go into this strange, crazed mode of entitlement about it?

  As though Chris somehow belonged to all of them because Declan had staked his claim.

  “You! You in the house!” Declan’s father pointed at him, and for a second, it felt as though the door separating them wasn’t there at all.

  “There’s people in my pack who are weak and sick! You being there could help! You still want to hide from us!”

  “Don’t you talk to my boy,” his father growled, tightening his grip on his weapon.

  For a hair of a second, Chris felt a flicker of guilt.

  Declan’s next words set him straight, and he didn’t even direct them at Chris.

  “You want people in the clan to fuck him so they can get over their colds faster? Are you out of your damn mind!”

  “It’s worse than a cold, and you know it. Something’s been going around.”

  Declan shrugged, seeming oddly heartless in the moment. “Then you should have made sure your vaccinations were up to date. Not my problem and not Chris’ either. Short of people dying, there’s no reason for you to demand this of him, and even then, he doesn’t have to do shit to help you. That’s not how this works.”

  Chris’ mom looped her arms around his, holding him tight. Chris couldn’t take his eyes off the scene outside.

  And it looked, honest to God, as though Declan’s father were getting…taller.

  He was starting to shift. His face changing, a snout forming as fur came in through his pores.

  He stood tall over Declan, staring down at him as though he were getting ready to go on the
attack.

  And Chris was terrified for him. Even with his father out there with a gun, Chris didn’t want to be in here. He wanted to be out there. He wanted to protect his mate.

  His hands clenched the lock and door handle, but Chris knew better than to go out there.

  It was too dangerous. Multiple shifters and a man with a gun…it was a recipe for an accident to happen.

  At least his mother had stopped bugging him to go hide because now it seemed as though she were just as engrossed in what was happening outside as he was.

  “You would do this to us?” Declan’s father slurred, sounding anything but human. “Your own people?”

  Declan’s mouth tightened. “Take your wolves to the hospital if they’re that sick. A wolf soul’s abilities only work on their mate. You can believe that or not. It doesn’t matter to me anymore.”

  “You little—” Declan’s father stepped forward. He stopped suddenly, and Chris and his mother jumped at the sound of gunfire.

  The dirt at the paws of that giant thing kicked up, and Chris noted how his father had fired a warning shot at the ground.

  Never fire a weapon unless he was comfortable with the idea of badly hurting or killing someone. His dad was a stickler about that sort of thing, so the fact that he’d pulled the trigger at all…

  “You heard the boy. Best you be on your way now, sir.”

  The hackles of the giant creature stood on end, its eyes glowing a bright, terrible shade of red, and Chris grabbed his mother, ready to take her and run deeper into the house.

  Until Declan stepped in the way.

  His body morphed faster than his father’s did. He became taller, broader, and even though Chris could see him only from the back, there was something about the air of that wolf-man, the long claws and hunch of the furred back, that made him look so much more savage and dangerous.

  Declan roared at the wolves in front of him. He almost sounded like the T-Rex from Jurassic Park but somehow deeper and more dangerous.

  Every hair on Chris’ body stood on end, and something deep and primal inside him woke up.

  He’d thought he’d felt this exact thing when Declan had been inside him, but it was nothing compared to this.

  This man was his. Declan was Chris’ mate, and the man was standing side by side with his father, protecting him from invading wolves.

  And all Chris wanted to do was give whatever power he had to the other man.

  Maybe that was why he finally stepped outside.

  His mother hissed at him. “Chris! What are you doing?”

  But he could barely hear her. He was too focused on this thing that was alive inside him.

  It was as though the decision-making side of his brain had taken a back seat.

  He went to his mate. Somehow, Chris knew Declan was aware he was coming toward him, but the large wolf didn’t so much as look his way.

  His father did, and even at his dad’s widening eyes, Chris didn’t step away.

  “Chris! What the hell are you doing? Get back inside! Right now!”

  Nope. Chris was completely unaffected as he moved toward the wolf man.

  Declan’s tail whipped around behind him as Chris approached. The wolf growled a little, but Chris could tell it wasn’t the sort of noise that was meant to send him away.

  No. This was something else. This was meant to warn the other wolves off as Chris slid his arms around Declan’s waist.

  Though he’d gotten taller and just a little wider, most of his clothes were still in place. His shirt was stretched out badly across his chest, exposing most of his belly, and the fur of it beneath Chris’ fingers felt…somewhere between soft and scratchy. He didn’t have the word to describe it. He just knew that he wanted to touch it, and he wanted to give Declan whatever he needed to help make these guys back off.

  They growled at him, but Declan held his position.

  Chris barely noticed them, as if they weren’t really there. He felt as calm and at ease as though he were back in bed with his mate.

  The only difference was he felt something being pulled out of him, something light and energetic, and it was being pushed right into Declan.

  He felt the shifter get bigger in his arms, his fur growing coarser, until Declan practically towered over the other men, and Chris had to hang on to his waist like a little kid.

  “This is mine,” Declan growled. “You do not touch.”

  Chris had a look. Declan’s father, and the two other wolves with him, looked up at Declan with an expression of awe on their faces. As though they’d never seen anything quite so fantastic before in their lives.

  “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Chris’ father said, sounding just as impressed.

  Chris didn’t look up to see what exactly his mate looked like. He didn’t need to see it.

  Nothing changed, so long as it was Declan beneath all this fur.

  Declan’s father swallowed hard, melting back into his human shape. He seemed nervous. Chris heard a fluttering sound, as though his heart were beating.

  Which was a strange thing for Chris to hear at all. He was a human. He shouldn’t be able to hear another person’s heartbeat.

  But it was there. He could hear Declan’s heart, too.

  It sounded more calm. More in control.

  He sounded all alpha.

  “The boy could help us. We’ve got sick. We’ve got shifters trying to come into our territory. If he could share his strength with us, we could take care of all this.”

  “That’s not how this is gonna work,” his father said.

  Declan’s dad growled, but the two men behind him had stepped back a pace.

  They had clearly made their decision.

  Declan’s father looked right at Chris. “I’m asking you to help us. Please.”

  Even through the haze of whatever this thing was that had Chris in its hold, he felt sadness for the man. Not guilt, but sad that he couldn’t help.

  Maybe he would have if he had the ability, but since he did not, there was nothing he could do.

  Chris shook his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to help you. I can only give this to him.”

  He held Declan tighter, and Chris knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he didn’t want to be separated from the man ever.

  He belonged to Declan. Even if he did have the ability to share himself and this strange gift with other shifters, he wouldn’t do it.

  He belonged only to Declan.

  Declan’s father growled. It was clearly not the answer he wanted to hear.

  He looked back toward his men, choking back a sharp noise at the realization of how far away they were, and then turned his red eyes turned back to Declan and Chris.

  “Fine.”

  He pointed up at Declan. “But don’t you ever come to me asking for anything ever again. You hear me? You’re not my son.”

  Chris didn’t like that. Declan’s heart beat quietly compared to his father’s, but that didn’t mean Chris wanted the other man to say such hurtful things to him.

  He didn’t have a choice in the matter when Declan’s father transformed into a wolf, turned tail, and ran off before the two with him had a chance to realize what was happening.

  They looked at each other, at Declan, and then at Chris’ father.

  “You boys better get the hell out of here. You’re not wanted here either.”

  They turned and ran, away from the gun that was pointed at them, and toward the alpha, who Chris doubted had been watching out for them all that much to begin with.

  But they were gone. Chris listened for them, in case it was a trick. No. They kept running. He could hear their feet pattering against the ground in the distance, their yips of excitement as they’d barely gotten out of that situation in one piece, and then nothing at all as they vanished into the night.

  Chris didn’t understand why he could hear so well, or why, but when Declan pulled away from him, it felt as though he’d suddenly gone deaf.

  No
, actually he hadn’t. He stopped touching Declan, and the noises around him were less pronounced, not nearly as sharp, and he couldn’t hear heartbeats anymore.

  Was that what it was like for a shifter?

  Chris looked up at Declan, intending to ask him, as his mate shrank down, his fur vanishing into his pores, leaving him for the tanned flesh Chris loved so much.

  All those little hypnotizing details made it difficult for Chris to ask the man anything. Instead, he fell against Declan’s chest and didn’t know what happened after that.

  Chapter Ten

  When Chris woke up, he was in bed, his bed, face down in his pillow, and his back hurt like crazy.

  It always hurt from sleeping on his stomach, and for some reason, his stupid brain continued to make him turn onto his stomach when he slept.

  Groaning, Chris pushed himself up, slowly and steadily turning around, until he heard his father and mother talking down the hall.

  Chris paused, hand on his lower spine, listening carefully.

  Declan was with them. Chris could hear his voice, too.

  Oh fuck. Everything that happened last night. He remembered it now. That was real. It was all real and…

  Shit.

  Imagining his father pointing a rifle at Declan, Chris practically jumped out of bed. He grabbed a T-shirt out of his old dresser, not wanting to show up in front of his parents wearing only his boxers.

  He didn’t think it would matter too much what he looked like as he ran out his door, still stuffing his head through the hole of the shirt when he got into the kitchen.

  It wasn’t a disaster. No one pointed a gun at anyone else. No one was standing up arguing in each other’s faces.

  Declan and Chris’ dad both sat at the kitchen table. His mother refilled their coffee cups.

  “There he is,” his dad said, smiling at him as though there hadn’t been a showdown the night before.

  “You want some coffee, dear?”

  His mom hadn’t called him dear since he was a little kid. She was clearly thinking about the night before.

  They all were.

  “Is, uh, everything okay?” He had to make sure about at least that. “Mom, are you all right?”

 

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