Kristen turned toward the direction the hit had come from, a low growl already rumbling in his throat ready to snap at whatever idiot had decided tonight was the night to mess with him.
But the moment he turned and saw the person who had struck him, the growl died in his chest.
The forest, which had been alive with crickets and the rustle of small things scattering from the pack’s earlier sprint, seemed to go very quiet all at once.
His ears flattened against his skull, his gaze dropped to the dirt, and he whined low and pathetic, trying — uselessly — to make himself smaller.
He tried to make his massive body smaller, but where exactly was a wolf as tall as a human being supposed to hide?
Why did he have to be so damn big in wolf form?
His friends had already scampered off to the side, putting a careful distance between themselves and the newcomer, their postures a mix of fear and grudging respect.
Cowards.
Kristen shifted back to his human form.
The change rippled through him fast and graceless — fur receding into skin, claws drawing back into something resembling human fingers, his spine cracking and resettling itself one vertebra at a time — until he was crouched on two legs instead of four, blinking against the cold air hitting bare skin everywhere at once.
It never got less uncomfortable, no matter how many times he did it.
He looked around for his clothes — nowhere in sight — then glanced at his friends, eyebrows raised in silent question.
They shook their heads in unison.
Kristen clicked his tongue in disappointment.
Dumbasses.
Resigned, he turned back to face his father.
His father stood with his arms crossed, his long white hair caught what little light was left in the sky, and even without an Alpha’s weight behind it, the quiet disappointment coming off him in waves managed to feel like a verdict all on its own.
He didn’t say anything yet.
He didn’t need to.
“Hey, Dad.
Fancy meeting you here,” Kristen said, chuckling awkwardly and scratching the back of his head, looking around at the scenery as if he were seeing it for the very first time, like he hadn’t grown up running through this exact stretch of forest.
His dad glared at him, his long white hair falling forward just enough to soften the full intensity of his dark brown eyes.
“Your mother is pissed.
You’re going to get hit a lot harder than I hit you,” his dad said.
Still, Richard’s eyes filtered over him, checking to see if he was actually hurt.
Once he saw Kristen was unharmed, his shoulders noticeably dropped in relief.
Kristen felt a sharp twinge of guilt curl in his stomach.
“Yes, Dad,” he said, lowering his head and clasping his arms behind his back, doing his best to look utterly miserable and apologetic.
A quiet snickering caught his attention.
He glared toward the gate guards, but they weren’t the ones laughing.
He rolled his eyes as he looked behind him.
It turned out his friends had shifted back at some point, and he side-eyed them with pure envy.
They were fully dressed.
Jackasses.
“Come, let’s go,” his dad said, already turning to walk up the pathway leading toward the pack community.
They all followed in tense silence, Kristen trailing a half-step behind, still very aware of his lack of clothing and the fact that his father hadn’t offered to fix that.
Trees lined the path on either side, their branches knitting together overhead like a roof, and ahead, another small gate marked the edge of the warded territory, glowing faintly with the kind of old magic that made the hair on Kristen’s arms stand up even now, after a lifetime of walking through it.
Beyond it, he could just make out the lanterns lining the main square, warm gold against the deepening blue of the sky, and the low murmur of a community that had no idea how close their future Alpha had come to getting his throat torn out a few minutes ago.
His dad entered first.
“Oh!
Richard!
Have you found them?
Is everyone okay?”
The sound of his mother’s frantic, near-tears voice echoed through the gate.
Fuck.
He was dead.
Kristen quickly slowed his pace, letting his friends walk in ahead of him to act as a shield.
A small, cowardly act of self-preservation he wasn’t proud of.
“Do you boys have any idea how close to death you were today?!” Rachel’s voice boomed as she immediately went off on the group.
“You are all going to lead this pack together one day!
Stop acting like reckless pups!”, her voice carrying the kind of weight that made even the older guards stand a little straighter, her dark eyes flashing with the faint reddish tint that always rose when an Alpha’s temper slipped its leash, gone again almost before he could be sure he’d seen it.
A unified, submissive chorus of “Yes, Pack Alpha,” and “We’re sorry, Pack Alpha,” rang out from the boys, sheepish and quick, three grown almost-men reduced to staring at their own feet like they were ten years old again.
“Where is Kristen?”
That was the exact moment Kristen chose to peek his head through the gate, offering his mother an innocent, winning smile.
“Mom, it’s actually a pretty funny story, you see—”
His mom didn’t let him finish.
She smacked him upside the head, making Kristen groan and shield his skull with his arms.
Before he could recover, she lunged forward, grabbed him by the ear, and twisted it painfully — hard enough that he yelped, somewhere between a human shout and a wolf’s whine — and dragged him fully into the community grounds and slammed the gates shut.
Clang.
“What is wrong with you!
Do you know how close you came to dying tonight?” Her sharp eyes swept over his naked form, her expression shifting from fury to something closer to horror.
“And why on earth are you naked?!”
Kristen chuckled, embarrassed, and stole a glance at his friends.
Theo was staring right at him, biting back a grin, and Kristen ducked his head down again, ears burning.
His mom sighed.
“You boys can go home.
Your families are waiting for you.”
Kristen could see that his friends were reluctant to leave him behind to face the music.
But they could also see that Rachel was practically emitting steam, so Kristen gave them a subtle nod.
He’d be fine.
Possibly.
The boys finally walked away, casting worried glances back at him every few step like they expected to turn around and find him in pieces on the ground, until they finally rounded the bend by the old well and vanished out of sight
His mom let out a long breath, her shoulders dropping, and right in front of him he watched her rigid Pack Alpha demeanor slip away layer by layer, replaced by something smaller, softer, and far more tired.
Just his mom again.
“Kristen, do you know how much danger you were in?” She asked, her chestnut-brown eyes staring intensely into his golden ones.
“In the dark—especially on moonless nights like this—the monsters are always just a claw away.
How can I trust you to lead the pack in the future if you can’t even keep your own friends safe?”
Kristen felt his heart plummet.
He absolutely hated disappointing his parents, and hearing that his mother might not trust his leadership cut deeper than any physical blow, more than nearly dying at the gate.
“Rachel, let him rest.
He looks completely exhausted,” his father interceded softly.
He wrapped his arms around her from behind, murmuring something low against her hair that Kristen couldn’t quite catch, and just like that, some of the tension went out of her shoulders.
Their heights complimented each other beautifully.
His mom was a tall, commanding woman, her mid-length black hair and dark brown skin contrasting perfectly with his dad’s long white hair and pale skin like they’d been carved specifically for each other.
Kristen watched them for a moment longer than he meant to, something warm and a little envious settling in his chest.
I want a love like theirs, Kristen thought longingly, watching them.
“He needs to be clear-headed for the news anyway,” his father added.
That snapped Kristen to attention immediately, every trace of exhaustion burning off in an instant.
What news?” he asked, his gaze darting suspiciously between his parents.
“I don’t think now is the best—” his dad started, his eyes flicking toward Rachel, something nervous flickering through them that made Kristen narrow his own eyes in suspicion.
His parents never looked nervous.
Not during rogue negotiations, not during the worst pack disputes he’d ever sat in on.
Whatever this was, it scared him more than the news itself possibly could.
“It’s about your marriage,” his mother cut in bluntly.
Kristen stared at the two of them like they had completely lost their minds.
“What?”
Thoughts?