Page 4 of Wolf Found

Unlike Asher’s father, or his former alpha, Gavin had earned his respect.

For traditionalists like Asher’s father, they inevitably looked at the three of them: Ash easygoing and happy, Gavin laid back and watchful, and Dez grim and serious, and decided that Dez was the boss.

Dez enjoyed it, mostly because it meant he got to bust their bubbles. Case in point, he grinned at Asher’s father. “It’s Dez. The guy you’re looking for is the one you blew past. You’re sitting in his chair, in case you’re curious.”

Asher’s father paled slightly, looking up at Gavin, who now loomed behind Dez and Sawyer, arms crossed in a way that made his biceps look enormous and all traces of playfulness were gone from his face.

“I—”

“Don’t bother with the apology,” Gavin said, the words clipped short. “I’m already aware of how sincere that would be. You came to my territory in the new moon, like slinking creatures afraid of the light. You insulted my packmate. And because you apparently come from the dark ages, you didn’t want to apologize for your behavior.” He looked at Ash. “Does that sum it up so far?”

Ash had never been more proud of his alpha in his entire life. The timing of their visit meant that it was either imperative or intended as an insult, or likely, a combination of the two. The treatment of Sawyer was, unfortunately, common among traditionalist packs like the one Ash had grown up in.

As a nice little bonus, Gavin asking gave Ash the opening he’d needed, to give warning about what they were dealing with. “Yes, alpha, that sums it up nicely. Unfortunately, the Martingale pack is well known for their cultish behavior and disrespect of omegas.”

Of his own people, only Sawyer reacted to that openly, turning to gape at Ash. “The Martingale pack?”

Ash met Sawyer’s eye and nodded. He hoped Sawyer knew how sorry he was, that he had to deal with that behavior from anyone, let alone Asher’s own blood.

“Your names, beta?” Gavin asked, ignoring Ash’s father and looking at Joey.

Joey was clearly taken aback, and stumbled over his words. “Um—sir?” He looked down, but his mentor didn’t spare him a glance.

“I’m Amos, and this is Joseph,” Asher’s father answered for him.

Gavin nodded and didn’t offer his own name in return. He was catching on to werewolf power games so quickly it was almost like he’d been born to them.

Ash wondered if that was what it was like to grow up rich. He still would have taken it over his own upbringing, all exaggerated sympathy aside. Sure, money might have been empty comfort, but better to be miserable and rich than miserable and poor.

“And your business?” Gavin demanded.

Asher’s father pursed his lips. Obviously, he hadn’t wanted to deal with things quite so openly. Had he truly thought that Ash would replace the oppressive pack of his youth with an equally oppressive regime when he’d left?

When the silence lasted more than a few seconds, Gavin glanced at the clock on the wall. “The cafe is closed, Amos, and we’re about ready to go home, where we do not invite packs we’re not allied with. If you want to speak to me, you speak in front of my packmates or not at all.”

“We have reason to believe you have a member of our pack in your keeping, alpha,” Asher’s father said solemnly, traditionally. Because of course he did.

Sawyer didn’t have any interest in formality. He groaned. “Oh, ancestors, not this again. First of all, no we don’t. Ash is ours, and you can’t have him back. Second, packs don’t own people. No matter what you believe, this isn’t actually the dark ages.” Gavin quirked a brow at Sawyer, who just shrugged. “I never claimed I wasn’t a hypocrite. Ash is ours, and they can’t have him back.”

“I assure you,” Asher’s father said, tone sharp, making Gavin glare daggers at him till he took a deep breath and calmed it. “We have no interest in returning that one”—he waved at Ash without even looking at him—“to the enclave. He chose to abandon his pack, and he can live with that.”

Sawyer laughed out loud, stopping after a second with his mouth still open, as though he were waiting for a punchline that wasn’t forthcoming. “You’re—you’re serious. What the hell did you people do to lose someone as loyal as Ash? You must be real bastards.”

Asher’s father ground his teeth together audibly, but Sawyer, being Sawyer, wasn’t the least bit put off. He reached over and grabbed Ash’s hand, squeezing it. At that, Amos’s look of disgust strengthened. “I see. It’s good we’ve gotten here before this can go too far. We know the boy was coming here. When we looked through his things, we realized the outcast had fostered a disturbing relationship with him before he left. We knew he’d come here.”

“Looked through his things?” Dez asked, voice quiet in a way that boded ill for Asher’s father.

“The boy ran away. We had to look through what he left behind for some clue. And the clues led here.”

Dez’s expression didn’t grow any less thunderous. “Someone ran from you, and you’re hunting him. How old is he?”

All Ash could do was stare at Joey. What the hell was his father talking about? Boy? A child? Disturbing relationship? Ash had only had one relationship his father had described as disturbing before he left the pack, and it had been with Joey himself.

Amos waved a dismissive hand at Dez’s question. “His age doesn’t matter. He’s an omega.”

“Wow,” Sawyer said, face exaggerated with sarcastic shock. “Dude, this is where you might wanna take a minute and read the room.” He lowered his voice at the last three words, like it was a secret, and pointed to the three alphas who were staring at the exchange.

The look on his father’s face could have been deadly. “Very well, if you’re determined to pretend that omegas are the same as everyone else, the outcast would have started an inappropriate relationship with him when he was, what?” He looked up at Joey. “Ten?”

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