Chapter Nine #2
“I didn’t have the same experience as you, but I know what hell feels like.
” Preston’s expression flickered, something dark passing behind his eyes.
“Boy meets psychopath. Psychopath decides boy belongs to him. Boy runs for his life and stumbles into a town full of insanity. Psychopath finds boy. Zeppelin handles psychopath.”
He’d said it so solemnly that Jalen wanted to give him a hug, but that was as foreign to him as kindness used to be before Chase.
“Boy has…” Jalen’s throat locked up, refusing to let him finish. “Boy has…”
“We were talking about mates, right?” Preston bumped shoulders with him. “For me, being mated to Zeppelin is like living off of tuna and suddenly having steak every night.”
The warm breeze rustled through the oak leaves above them, casting shifting patterns of light across the table. Jalen took a deep breath and let it out slowly, determined to enjoy his afternoon.
Preston touched his own shoulder, right where it met his neck. “He bit me right here. That’s what seals the bond. I was already attracted to him, but once we were fully mated, it’s like this deep connection formed between us. There isn’t anything Zeppelin wouldn’t do for me.”
“He’s a bit scary looking,” Jalen whispered.
“Hot, right?” Preston snickered. “Nearly got flattened by a box truck drooling over him.”
Jalen threw his head back and laughed, unsure why he found the image so funny. Preston joined in, cracking up beside him.
“I was trying to come off as cool, missed the pole I tried to lean on like a dork, and almost ate the grill of that truck.”
“Sorry.” Jalen held up his hand. “I know that’s not funny, but…
” He had no idea how to finish the sentence.
Preston was a short guy with hair that stuck up at odd angles, and Jalen was trying to imagine him going all googly over a guy not only Zeppelin’s size but his I’ll-eat-you-for-breakfast looks.
Jalen’s laughter died instantly when he saw his uncle walking up the side street toward the parlor. The cone fell from Jalen’s hand, hitting the table then the ground. He paid it no attention.
“You okay?” Preston asked.
A strange noise caught in Jalen’s throat. This had to be a bad dream, one of those nightmares he’d had while detoxing. Air shoved past Jalen’s lips too fast, too sharp, his chest barely expanding before the next breath forced its way out.
“Jalen?” Preston shook his arm.
Derek glanced his way at the mention of Jalen’s name.
Jalen’s chest felt like it had collapsed inward, every breath jagged and shallow. A tremor ran through him until every limb shook.
His uncle locked eyes then pivoted, now heading toward him, wearing the smirk that always led to pain.
As Jalen pushed from the picnic table, his foot caught on the seat. He stumbled backward, heart racing, wishing he could sink back into blissful numbness.
But it was too late. The monster was closing in, and Jalen was trapped.
* * * *
“He says he’s fine, but I know better,” Zeppelin said. “It’s just gonna take time for Vaughn. We still don’t know what that demon did to him, and Vaughn’s not talking about it.”
Chase wanted to rip that demon apart for what he did to the beta.
For the past few weeks he’d spent all his time with Jalen.
Not once had Chase left his mate’s side, until yesterday morning.
During those few weeks, pack members had brought food to the room, asking how Jalen was doing.
Even Vaughn had stopped by, trying to play it off like he was okay, but eyes didn’t lie, and Vaughn’s were haunted.
“Maybe—” Chase stood when he saw Jalen visibly frozen, his skin pale in the afternoon sun. Preston was trying to talk to him, but it was clear he wasn’t getting through to Jalen.
Chase followed Jalen’s line of sight and noticed a stranger approaching from the side street.
Average height, mid-forties, with a receding hairline and a paunch straining against his tan shirt.
He wore khakis and a polo shirt like countless other men in this town. There was nothing remarkable about him.
Except for the way his eyes locked onto Jalen with predatory focus.
Without thinking, Chase crossed the distance in long strides, Zeppelin right beside him.
“Jalen!” the stranger called, his voice carrying across the patio with false warmth. “Been wondering where you’ve been hiding. Why’ve you been skipping Sunday dinners? Your mother’s been asking.”
Reaching his mate, Chase planted himself directly between Jalen and the stranger. He felt Jalen’s hand grip the back of his shirt, fingers twisting into the fabric. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Zeppelin ease Preston behind his large frame.
“Just act cool,” Jalen whispered from behind him, voice so low only supernatural hearing could catch it. “Everything’s fine. Act cool. Act cool. Act cool.”
The pieces clicked into place with sickening clarity. This seemingly ordinary man with his pleasant smile and department-store clothes was the uncle. The monster who’d haunted Jalen’s nightmares, who’d driven him to seek chemical escape.
Chase’s vision narrowed to pinpricks of light as something ancient and feral uncoiled inside him. His tongue traced the sharp points of his canines, already lengthening against his will. One thought pulsed through his blood. Destroy .
But a quick glance around reminded him of their surroundings. Families with young children licking ice cream cones, teenagers taking selfies by the parlor window, a toddler chasing a butterfly just yards away.
Too many innocent eyes that shouldn’t see what Chase wanted to do to this man.
Not here. Not now. But god, how he wanted to.
“You need to leave.” Chase’s voice was dangerously quiet. “Now.”
The uncle’s gaze slid past him, trying to catch sight of Jalen who’d pressed himself against Chase’s back. “Don’t think we’ve met. I’m Derek, Jalen’s uncle.”
Chase didn’t offer his name or his hand.
“And who might you be? Jalen’s new... friend?” He drew out the word, infusing it with insinuation that made Chase want to tear out his throat.
“Walk away while you still can,” Chase warned.
Derek’s expression hardened momentarily before smoothing back into affable confusion. “Look, I don’t know what Jalen’s told you, but we’re family. He shouldn’t be ditching us for some random guy he just met.”
The casual way he said it—as if Chase was the interloper—made acid churn in his gut. This man was hiding his true meaning behind innocent-sounding words. Chase could hear the underlying message. Jalen belongs to me.
Zeppelin stepped forward, his massive frame casting a shadow over Derek. A low, rumbling sound emanated from his chest. Too animal to be human and too threatening to ignore.
“I’d suggest you listen to him.” Zeppelin’s voice was deceptively calm.
Something flickered in Derek’s eyes. It wasn’t fear, which was concerning, but calculation. His gaze swept across the patio, noting the families, the children, the public setting.
“I just came for ice cream,” Derek said with a shrug, his posture relaxing. “Saw my nephew and thought I’d say hello.” He gestured toward the ground. “Let me buy you another one, Jalen. Looks like you dropped yours.”
This man was truly sadistic, appearing in public spaces where Jalen couldn’t react, offering kindness that was really a reminder of his power. Chase couldn’t believe the casual cruelty of it, the mind games Jalen had endured.
“Speak to my mate again and I’ll rip out your tongue.” Chase fought to keep his voice level when all he wanted was to shred the bastard. “Last warning to leave.”
Derek’s smile didn’t falter. “That’s for Jalen to say, isn’t it?” He tried to peer around Chase again. “Come on, Jalen. Your mom’s been worried. You know how she gets.”
Chase took a half-step forward, close enough that only the uncle could hear his next words. “I know what you did to him. And I promise you, very soon, you'll pay for every single moment of pain you caused.”
Something flickered across Derek’s face. It still wasn’t fear. Maybe surprise that someone knew his secret. Still, he recovered quickly, a smirk playing at his lips.
“Big talk from a stranger,” he murmured.
Chase leaned in just a little more. “Be careful of the dark. It bites.”
Most humans would blanch at such a threat, especially delivered with the cold certainty Chase infused into his words. But Derek’s confidence was unshaken. Either he was too stupid to recognize genuine danger, or he believed himself untouchable.
“Threatening me isn’t very neighborly,” Derek said mildly, as if Chase had merely been rude. “I’m sure Jalen wouldn’t want trouble with the law over a misunderstanding.”
The bastard was cocky, secure in his position as a respected member of the community. Chase wondered how many other predators walked among humans, hidden behind ordinary faces and respected positions.
“Go ahead and call the cops,” Chase replied coolly. “I’ll wait right here.”
Derek thought he was calling Chase’s bluff, but he had no idea that he would be calling in Chase's backup.
Considering the entire department was comprised of shifters, Derek would be lucky to survive his little trip to the police station once Chase told them what the sick fuck had done and that Jalen was his mate.
Mates were precious to nonhumans, protected, even if they weren’t yours, because preternatural knew just how rare they were, that they were a nonhuman’s one shot at true happiness.
Blue lights flashed at the corner of the street as a police cruiser turned onto the side road, rolling slowly as if on routine patrol.
“Well, I should get going,” Derek said, his voice carrying just enough to be heard by anyone nearby. “Jalen, I’ll see you Sunday for dinner. Your mom’s making your favorite.”
“Oh,” Chase said, “you wanna die right fucking now, don’t you?”
Zeppelin placed a hand on Chase’s shoulder to stop him from going after the prick.
With a casual nod that belied the tension of the moment, Derek turned and walked away, hands in his pockets like a man without a care in the world.
Behind him, Jalen was trembling so hard Chase could feel it through the hand still clutched in his shirt. He turned to find Jalen’s face had drained of all color. His mate’s eyes were wide, breath coming in short, shallow gasps.
“I need to get him home,” Chase said to Zeppelin.
“Go. We’ll follow.”
Gently, Chase placed his arm around Jalen’s shoulders, guiding him toward the truck. His mate moved like a sleepwalker, feet dragging across the pavement. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. He’s gone.”
As he helped Jalen into the passenger seat, Chase made a silent vow. That man—that monster in human skin—would never hurt Jalen again. Chase would find him, alone, away from witnesses. And he would end him.