Chapter 56 Marcus
MARCUS
It was a sunny day, with crisp, dry air, and the temperature in the minus tens. They were the perfect conditions for a pack outing.
Marcus was texting Steve, so he didn’t see the moment when Peter, one of the more even-tempered alphas in his pack, went up to Max and tried to initiate a friendly spar to figure out where Max ranked in the hierarchy.
All thirty or so members of Marcus’s pack in attendance were watching the exchange with barely disguised curiosity.
Max, rather than move forward and lock arms with Peter, lifted his arm and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Thanks, but I’m good.”
Marcus had never seen an alpha respond to a challenge for dominance with the words “I’m good” before.
He didn’t think anyone else in the pack had, either.
Peter, his stance squared and his arms tensed in preparation of a tussle, looked like he didn’t know what to do. “You’re good?” he asked, glancing from Max to Marcus and looking for further instruction.
Marcus didn’t know what to say. Max was his mate – and thus his responsibility – but he was not a member of his pack. He did not have the authority to force the issue.
Their mating bond thrummed between them, and Marcus could feel Max’s simple determination that he did not want to fight.
“Yeah, I’m not really in the mood,” Max said, uncomfortable. At least he understood how weird he was making things. He crossed his arms defensively. “Fighting isn’t really my thing, you know?”
No one, out of the thirty or so werewolves in the immediate vicinity, knew.
“Oh, okay,” Peter said, retreating. Marcus had never seen the younger man look so awkward. This was even worse than the time he’d proposed to Anastacia and she’d said no.
They were gathered outside, near the gate leading to the woods that the pack compound was surrounded by, ready to go.
Marcus and Max had been the last people to show up.
Max’s brothers were there, in a cluster by Odin, along with a selection of whoever was at the compound and had time for an afternoon outing.
It had been Odin’s suggestion to take the new arrivals on a run, and Marcus had foolishly invited Max to come along. Max’s brothers had all slotted themselves into the pack hierarchy without causing any awkwardness, so Marcus didn’t understand why Max couldn’t just do the same.
He was so glad Steve was coming later. His little brother would undoubtedly hear all about Max and his weird behavior, but at least he wouldn’t witness it.
The ribbing was going to be brutal.
Or maybe not, Marcus considered. Taking into account Max’s history, Steve might show a little sensitivity and not use it as ammunition to tease him.
“So, are we going for a run?” Max asked, clapping his hands together. He looked to Marcus, sending a burst of feeling across the bond that roughly translated to: please take the lead and end this very awkward moment.
“We are,” Marcus said. He turned toward his assembled pack and laid out the plan for the day. “Hello, everyone, today is just a quick outing to get to know the new members of our pack. Our destination is the west clubhouse. You all know the drill. Let’s go!”
The run itself would only be about an hour or so, but it would wake them up and energize them so that they could have a fun afternoon hanging around the clubhouse.
They would have lunch, drink, and play games, with more people joining them as they got off work or finished school, and then the real party would begin.
After the tense mood of the past two days, they all needed to unwind.
Taking the lead, Marcus crashed through the snowy underbrush with Max doing his best to keep up. The rest of the pack followed, fanning out and forming small groups to run together, with plenty of detours and backtracking as people raced and had fun.
Max’s brothers were near the back with Odin and his men.
After a few minutes, Max seemed to get the hang of running in the deep snow. “Is not wanting to fight really that big of a deal?” he asked.
“It’s fine,” Marcus said, sending a burst of reassurance through their bond. “You don’t have to fight if it makes you uncomfortable. No one is going to force you.”
“But they’ll think I’m weird.”
Marcus couldn’t really deny that.
“I don’t know how to fight,” Max said, whining. He was matching his steps to Marcus’s gait, the two of them moving in perfect sync. “I’d look like an idiot.”
“It’s not that kind of fight,” Marcus said, trying to think how to explain to a werewolf what should be the most natural thing in the world. “All you have to do is let your wolf take the lead and let go.”
“I don’t know how to do that either,” Max grumbled. “At least not on purpose.”
Marcus acknowledged the point. Max was very in control of his wolf, up until that control slipped, and then it slipped completely.
“We’ll work on it,” Marcus promised. “If you want.”
“Fine,” Max said, sounding like a child agreeing to take a foul-tasting medicine. “If you think I should.”
“I do,” Marcus said, pulling Max into a one-armed hug as they ran and nearly making him stumble. "Trust me. Once you get the hang of it, you’ll think it’s fun.”
Marcus didn’t have to feel Max’s emotions across their bond to see how much his mate doubted that. It was written clear across his face.
He’d see.