Marked By the Alpha’s Son (The Alpha’s Son #4)

Chapter 1 A NEW SEASON

A NEW SEASON

“Hey Bonehead, where are you?” Jasper’s voice arrives in my mind without warning. Not that I mind. “Don’t tell me,” he continues, an amused smile audible in his tone, “you’re running late?”

“I’m almost there!” Easily, I’m able to access the connection between our wolf-brains. Though of course, the truth is I’m farther away than I’d like to be.

Right now, I’m hustling down Tenth Avenue, sprinting uptown to the packhouse.

Though I still can’t seem to manage showing up places on time, at least these days I can let Jasper know without texting and running, which, as history has shown, usually ends with me crashing into something or someone.

After his brush with death last year––the shooting and that moment at the hospital when I thought I’d maybe lost Jasper forever––we were able to access our mind-link, and I still get pumped every time we’re able to communicate without words.

A skill that’s come in very handy as we’ve continued to be long-distance mates while Jasper has been away at Harvard or traveling on pack business.

If it means he’s alive and well, Jasper can interrupt my runaway train of thought any day.

“Just hurry, okay?” he says. “I can’t wait to see you.”

As I cross the street, grinning despite how much I wish I wasn’t running right now, I catch a glimpse of the setting sun, all peach and violet, reflecting on the Hudson, casting rays between the high-rises of Manhattan.

It’s summer in New York, which means it’s hot.

And running means I’m sweating like nothing else, praying to the moon gods my maroon dinner jacket will hide the overt pit stains on my dress shirt.

I’m sort of excited about tonight. Any excuse to hang with Jasper and eat free canapés is a reason to get out of bed, but tonight is the Blue Moon Celebration, a pack party I didn’t even know happened, but apparently does, a few weeks before every Blue Moon Festival.

It’s a chance for members of the Elite Pack to celebrate a new crop of matings, at least, the members who’ve warranted an invite, and for the High Moon Priest to bless this year’s attendees and announce who will be in charge of the festival.

This is the first year I’ll be attending, not just as a member of the pack, but as the mate of the alpha’s son.

Oh and did I mention Jasper looks hella sexy in formal wear?

Holy moly, do I not want to show up wheezing and sopping wet.

When I reach the packhouse, I stop for a moment to stare up at the towering building, the glass panels reflecting the sunset, and I flap the lapels of my jacket, hoping to cool myself a little before I step inside.

“I’m here,” I tell Jasper. “I just need—”

“An energy drink and a comb?” Jasper says, not in my mind this time, but for real. I spin and find him emerging from the shadows under the building’s awning. He was waiting for me.

Gush.

“No, I just need a minute. Is it that bad?” I ask, trying to smooth down my curls which have most likely frizzed into an untamable nest.

Jasper grins, stepping toward me and taking my furiously working hands in his, holding them still. He places them at my sides, then rubs his hands down my shoulders, holding me just above the elbow.

“You look amazing,” he says, all the stars of the galaxy shining in his stupidly green eyes.

I roll mine. “You have to say that.”

He shrugs. “You always look amazing. What can I do?”

I glance behind him, to where Verity is waiting with her cat’s-eye glasses and her tablet to check in the guests as they arrive.

“Have you been in? What’s it like up there?”

“The same old crusty elite I assume,” he says. “But I haven’t been up yet. I wanted to arrive with you.”

I melt in his grip. “You didn’t have to—”

“Max,” he says, the firmness in his voice stopping me cold. “I don’t mind waiting for you. I’ll always wait for you.”

That’s enough for me. I go in for a kiss, planting my lips on Jasper’s and running my fingers up the back of his head, probably mussing up his perfectly slicked-back style.

He returns my kiss with equal intensity, pulling our bodies closer, so our chests are pressed against each other.

If we weren’t standing on the street or about to walk into a party full of the most important wolves of the Elite Pack, I would want to do a lot more than kiss Jasper right now, but despite how close we’ve become over this last year, I still have some sense of decency.

So for right now, kissing will have to do.

Although I have slipped one hand as low as humanly possible into the small of his firm back.

As we pull apart, a growl rolls in Jasper’s throat, his fangs have elongated ever so slightly, one catching on his bottom lip in a way that stirs some intense feeling in my stomach. I don’t need a mind-link to know he was thinking similarly filthy thoughts.

“Get a room,” a familiar voice says, interrupting our steamy sidewalk moment. We step back awkwardly, Jasper standing at a funny angle and pulling his black satin jacket closed in a way which makes me think he was even more excited than I’d thought.

“You spying on us, Squishface?” he asks his little sister.

Jodie has just stepped out of the back of a sleek black town car, with a couple of friends in tow.

She’s wearing a canary-yellow dress complete with black Chucks—which is very Bella Swan of her—and an unimpressed expression that, I think, means she’s gotten too old for that nickname.

“I don’t need to spy if you’re going to make out on the street,” she volleys back. Touché.

Melissa steps out of the car as well, in a forest-green dress with her hair up and her face beat for the moon gods. From her harried expression she’s clearly not loving her role as class chaperone.

“Come on, girls,” she says, shooting Jasper a weird, sort of bashful look, and . . . is she blushing ever so slightly? “Let’s give the boys some privacy and head inside.”

“See you up there, Max.” Jodie waves as she and her friends bounce their way through the doors.

“She seems more social these days,” I say, one arm still wrapped around Jasper’s waist.

“You have no idea,” he says, quirking a brow. “In the space of a year she’s become queen bee with the girls at her school.”

I laugh, because of course Jodie is popular. She’s always seemed wise beyond her years, with a confidence I’ve never been able to muster. If I were her age, I’d be her devoted drone as well.

“Good for her.” Jasper is about to leave but I hold him in place. “And, um, what was that look Melissa gave you?”

Jasper sighs, lifting his brows in a most unimpressed fashion. “There’s been a bit of a development on that front too.”

“Uh-huh. I’m intrigued.”

He shakes his head as if he’s shivering, trying to fling the subject away from him. “I’ll tell you inside.” Then he turns to the door. “Shall we?”

I nod. “We shall.”

Upstairs, the doors of the elevator ping as they open, revealing the party in full swing.

The packhouse’s function room has been decorated to resemble what I can only assume is supposed to be the forest surrounding the pack retreat upstate where the festival is held.

Boughs of emerald pine have been strung up from the lofty ceiling, vines snake up the black marble columns in the room, wildflowers pop in multicolored bursts from the tabletops, and before us, lining the entry way, is a red carpet of sorts, except instead of crimson it’s green, and made of actual living grass.

Hoping not to destroy it too quickly, I tread carefully over the laid-out roll of turf as we make our way inside.

Since that fateful New Year’s Eve party where Jasper kissed me in front of the whole pack, I’ve only been up here a couple of other times, but I’ve never seen it this packed.

I can barely make out the Manhattan skyline through the crowd out on the balcony.

Everyone who’s everyone in the Elite Pack is here.

We stroll through the smartly dressed wolves, Jasper smiling with his teeth and waving at politicians and celebrities, while I do my best impression of a demure future luna.

“You okay?” Jasper asks, so that only I can hear him, as we pass Stefan and Maria Lykos.

“Fine,” I reply. “Stefan looks like he’s already overdone it on the honey mead though.”

Jasper looks over and has to stifle a laugh. Stefan’s face is redder than normal, and he looks like he’s struggling to stay upright. Maria waves at us with a gloved hand while the other reaches around her husband’s portly waist to keep him vertical.

It’s funny to think back to only a year ago, when these events turned me into a vibrating ball of anxiety.

But over the course of the last eight or nine months, and after attending a number of official pack functions, I’m starting to find my feet.

Of course, having Jasper nearby helps. As Stefan knows, it’s a wonderful thing to have someone to lean on.

But then I also think I’ve stepped into my role as Jasper’s mate and as the blood wolf. The latter of course allows me to feel more empathy for those around me than before. It may surprise you, but even rich people have insecurities.

As we wander through the party I spot a few familiar faces, but perhaps more obvious are the faces that are absent.

The absence I feel most keenly is Aisha.

She’s not here and hasn’t been since she tried to show up to Jasper’s birthday party with her human mate.

While she’s still in New York, she’s all but exiled herself from the pack, preferring to stick to her ballet classes and performance schedule.

Yeah, we hang out all the time, but she used to be my lifeline at pack events and they’re just not the same without her.

Also missing is Olivia, who hasn’t been seen since she and Mia ran away. There’s been no word from them, despite Alpha Morven and Beta Salazar searching far and wide. It’s like they’ve vanished into thin air.

Salazar is here though, I’ve just spotted him by the bar, propping himself up on an elbow, taking large gulps from a glass of neat whiskey.