Chapter Nine
Jude
We walk home, Pace’s fingers thread with mine. I can feel my alpha’s wild happiness flooding our bond. It’s a bright, effervescent buzz that makes me feel lighter than air.
“Why are you so happy?” I laugh as I look up at him.
He smiles down at me, a genuine, breathtaking smile. “Just thinking about the future,” he says, placing his large hand over my stomach, right where a baby might be growing.
I can’t fight my own smile as my heart skips a beat.
“I’ve been thinking about it too,” I admit.
“Ever since the nurse took my blood.” I pause, my other hand wrapping around his forearm.
“I don’t really feel any different, though.
I might not be.” I bite my lip, then ask the question that’s been really nagging at me. “Will you be okay if I’m not…pregnant?”
“Of course,” Pace says, his voice soft but sure. His eyes don’t waver from mine, steady and open, without a single hint of doubt in them. Then his smile shifts, growing more playful. “It just means we can keep trying.” He winks.
That makes me blush furiously, and he leans down to kiss my temple.
I can’t help but beam as we walk the rest of the way home, a comfortable silence settling between us. A few minutes later, we reach our little apartment building and step into the elevator.
Pace presses the button for our floor, but before the doors can even close, he’s on me.
The alpha crowds me, forcing my back against the cool metal wall of the elevator.
I’m completely engulfed by his massive height, his body a hard, warm cage around me. He leans down, his face just inches from mine, his dark eyes burning with an intensity that makes my breath catch.
“I wanted to rip that doctor’s throat out for touching what’s mine,” he says, his voice a low, possessive rumble that vibrates through my entire body.
A shiver of pure arousal runs through me.
“When I saw that fucking beta stick her hand inside you,” he growls, his voice a low, possessive rumble that vibrates through my entire body.
“When we get home, I’m going to wash you head to toe.
Then I’m going to fuck my scent back into you until you forget anyone else ever touched you. ”
A shiver of pure arousal runs through me, and I slowly nod. “Yes, sir.”
Then he kisses me. Hard.
His lips feel incredible, firm and demanding, and when his tongue pushes into my mouth, it’s a dominant, sweeping stroke that leaves me breathless. My whole body thrums as he twists his tongue with mine, claiming my mouth all over again.
Slick begins to gather between my thighs right when the elevator doors open with a ding.
Pace instantly breaks the kiss, but before I can pout, my strong alpha flings me over his shoulder in one smooth motion.
I let out a surprised laugh as he carries me down the hall toward our apartment.
But as he walks, I suddenly smell it. Patchouli.
No…
Please, no, no, no, no, no.
But my father’s scent only grows stronger as Pace walks, sending fear ripping through me, but before I can say anything to warn Pace, he stops walking, freezing in his tracks. I feel his shoulder tense beneath my belly. Then, without a word, he shifts me, placing me down carefully on my feet.
I look up at my mate’s face. He looks intense, his eyes narrowed as he stares down the hall, his jaw set like stone. I brace myself, then I turn.
My heart jumps in my throat as I see that our apartment door is wide open.
He’s in there. I just know it.
“Baby.” Pace leans down, his mouth brushing the shell of my ear as his hand settles at the back of my neck. He squeezes once, trying to soothe me, but it doesn’t help. “I’ll handle this,” he whispers, his voice low and controlled. “Go back downstairs and—”
My father’s voice cuts from somewhere inside our home before he can finish.
“I can smell you out there, boy,” his voice booms. “Get in here. Now.”
His command hits me like a slap.
My body reacts before my mind can catch up. My spine straightens, and my shoulders draw back, my muscles locked tight with an old, ugly instinct to obey. To move. To run when summoned. But my feet don’t actually move.
Every instinct within me is so conflicted.
My body and soul are dedicated to Pace now, but our bond is still so fresh that my father’s hold on me lingers.
Confused and scared, my muscles twitching with a need to obey, I start to cry. Hot tears blur my vision, slipping silently down my cheeks.
“Jude.” Pace shifts in front of me slightly, blocking my view of the apartment like a shield.
“It’s okay, mate,” he says quietly, tipping my chin up so I have to look at him.
His thumb brushes over my cheek, wiping away a tear with surprising gentleness for such a big hand.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” he says softly, but I don’t believe him.
There’s no way this will end well.
“Do you trust me, omega?” Pace asks.
“Yuh…yes,” I nod, but I can’t manage to say anything else. My throat is too tight.
“Good.” Pace takes my hand. His grip is firm, grounding, callused fingers wrapping around mine like an anchor. “Just stay by my side and do what I say.”
I nod again, then Pace moves, guiding me into our apartment. The second we’re inside, my alpha turns and shuts the door behind us, followed by the sharp click of the lock sliding into place.
Shocked, I glance up at him. Why did he lock it?
But Pace doesn’t look at me. His attention is already forward.
I suddenly feel trapped, walking into certain death, but I keep my mouth shut, following my alpha into our home. We make our way down the short hallway and into the open kitchen and living room. The lights are on, and the space looks exactly the way we left it this morning, but then I see him.
My father is sitting in the large navy armchair beside the couch, one ankle resting over his knee like he owns the damn place.
His gray hair is neatly combed back from his forehead.
His suit is stiff and perfectly tailored, charcoal with a pale blue shirt and a dark tie knotted tight at his throat.
There is a faint five o’clock shadow along his jaw that makes him look harder than usual, and there’s a thick cigar burning between his fingers.
The smell hits me immediately.
Heavy tobacco and smoke, sharp and bitter. It coats the back of my tongue and turns my stomach. My body reacts before I can stop it. My shoulders curl inward, and my throat squeezes with the urge to gag.
Pace feels it.
“Put that out,” he says, his voice calm but unmistakably commanding.
My father’s eyes snap to him slowly. “Excuse me?” Father says like he’s shocked someone would dare to tell him what to do.
“The cigar,” Pace says evenly. “It’s upsetting my omega. Put it out.”
The air in the room shifts, and I see the flash of rage in my father’s eyes. He doesn’t like being told what to do, especially not by people he thinks are beneath him.
But then, somehow, my father manages to rein in his anger.
“Fine,” he says calmly as he uncrosses his legs and leans forward.
Slowly, deliberately, he presses the burning end of the cigar down onto the polished wood of the coffee table. The ember hisses as it dies, leaving behind a small black circle scorched into the surface.
Then he stands.
Father takes his time buttoning his suit jacket with careful fingers as he straightens to his full height. He is tall, but not as tall as Pace. He sets his shoulders back and lifts his chin as he studies my new mate.
Pace doesn’t move a muscle.
If anything, he seems to take up more space. He squares his shoulders and straightens his back, his body angled slightly in front of mine. His hand tightens around mine, steady and certain.
Father looks him over slowly. “You must be Pace Greene.”
“And you must be Jude’s father,” Pace replies coolly.
“Marcus Thorne,” Father says. “But you can call me Mr. Thorne.”
Pace’s eyes narrow slightly, but he doesn’t say a word.
The air between them tightens until it feels hard to breathe.
The silence is killing me. My pulse slams against my ribs as my palms go damp where they’re wrapped around Pace’s hand. It feels like I’m standing too close to a live wire.
“Jude.” My father finally speaks as he turns his intense glare to me. I feel his growing anger like a physical touch. “Come here,” he says, his voice controlled.
My body flinches hard at his command, but Pace’s fingers tighten around mine. It somehow gives me the strength to stay put.
“He’s not going anywhere,” Pace says calmly.
My father’s eyes darken. “This is a family matter,” he says. “You are not required.”
“I am,” Pace answers without hesitation. “He’s mine.”
“Like hell he is,” Father growls. He snaps his fingers at me, the sharp crack making me jump. “Get your ass over here, boy.” The sound cracks through the room. “Now!”
The command hits me like a punch to the chest.
Every nerve in my body lights up. My muscles seize. My feet twitch forward before I can stop them.
But Pace stops me.
He pulls me behind him in one smooth motion, his body blocking mine completely. One arm comes back, pressing me firmly against his spine like he’s bracing me there.
“Don’t,” Pace says to my father, his voice dropping to a low warning. “Don’t you fucking dare command my omega.”
My father’s jaw tightens. “You don’t get to tell me what to do with my own fucking son!”
“Your son?” Pace shoots back. “He’s not your fucking property.”
“Oh, yes, he is,” Father snarls, taking a step forward. “It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve stuck your cock in my son. He’s leaving with me.”
“He’s my mate,” Pace says firmly. “He has my bite on his neck. He’s been bound and bred.”
Father flashes his teeth as his dark eyes look Pace up and down slowly, his upper lip curling with disgust. "You think a little teeth and a hard fuck means shit?” he says crudely.
“You’re nothing but hired muscle who got lucky in an alley.
You don’t have the money, the influence, or the backbone to keep him. ”