Page 76 of Cruel Alpha Daddy

I leave Ryan cursing over the blackened grill and walk to the edge of the clearing. Caleb has the ball, and he’s charging through lines of other kids to get to the goalpost. It’s just for fun, and there are barely any rules, but it still makes my heart swell with pride to see my son putting his full effort into something he enjoys.

We ended up starting a small school of our own, with education programs run by Lilah and Kay. The kids only spend a small part of the day studying, and most of their education comes from practical work.

New Hope is a hub of activity now. Large fields of vegetable patches and fruit trees surround us on every side. There is constant construction of new buildings, as well as farm animals to tend to. In just a few months, we have established ourselves as one of the best organic producers in the area.

“Hey, you,” Fiona whispers against my ear. “I see you abandoned the grill.”

“Damn, woman. I still don’t know how you sneak up on me like that,” I mutter as she puts her arms around my waist.

“Magic,” she teases, snuggling against me.

“I believe it,” I answer, lowering my head to nuzzle her neck.

She giggles, so I tickle her with my lips and tongue, making her squirm. “Stop it,” she laughs.

“No way,” I say, holding her waist so she can’t get away. “Not until you scream for me to stop.”

“As if I ever would,” she whispers, pressing herself against me and stretching up to press her lips against mine.

I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close. As she deepens the kiss, I let my hands roam across her hips and up her back, playing with her long golden hair.

“Oh my God, are you guys being gross again?”

Caleb’s voice shatters the moment, and I break off the kiss to see him standing next to us, his tiny fists planted on his hips.

“Give it a few years, and you won’t think kissing girls is gross,” I tell him.

“Ew. If you say so, Dad.”

“Come on, kiddo. Let’s get some food—that is, if Uncle Ryan hasn’t burned it all.”

I reach out with one hand, and Caleb takes it, squeezing my big hand with his tiny one. On my other side, Fiona links her fingers through mine, and we walk back to the hall where tables are set up under the big, shady trees.

Sunday afternoon lunch has become a firm tradition for our pack, just like our communal breakfast and dinner. Bornout of necessity because we started with so very little, it’s now a celebration of the bounty we share.

I take a seat at one end with Fiona and Caleb as the other children charge up behind us, all of them bouncing up and down as they talk excitedly. Moments like these are such a sharp contrast to our early days in the valley. They always make me reflect on our struggles and how far we’ve come.

“Are you off early tomorrow?” I ask Fiona as we hand around a plate of steaks that are blackened but thankfully not charcoal.

“No, Lucy is setting up for me,” she answers. “It’s only a small store up in Norwood.”

“When do you go back to Orchard City?”

“Wednesday. Then Silver Meadows on Thursday.”

“I’d complain about never seeing you, but I know how much you love the work.”

She smiles, reaching out to give my hand a squeeze. “Don’t feel sorry for me. You boys are the ones who have to load the trucks. We just sell the stuff!”

Our organic produce and gourmet food have become famous across all the surrounding towns. What started as a small market stall to bring in a bit of extra cash has blossomed into a massive enterprise that is supported by all three packs—Silver Meadows, Silverton, and New Hope.

After we moved out the useful gear from Sawpit, we abandoned it. Old Scotty had ideas about reopening the biker bar as a more family-friendly establishment, but in the end, we decided it was better to close it and cut all ties with our past.

The young men who left when the pack split have mostly disappeared, but a few came back. Kyle and I have set up aprogram to help kids like them get back on their feet and start a new life. We give them practical skills and support them at technical colleges if they want to study.

We’ve done so much good, but it’s helping the ones who are so much like me that brings me the most happiness.

If any of Tobias’s group survived, they ran fast and far enough that we couldn’t trace them. Tobias’s comments about my brother still haunt me, and I’ve got people searching for Peter over every town covered by the allied packs.

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