Werecats by 6 Alpha

Author:6 Alpha [Alpha, 6]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-10-07T03:34:11+00:00

Taylor watched me in silence, obviously struggling with the decision.

“Aaron,” my uncle said, breaking the tense silence. “We have to present a united front on this. If we don’t, Malone will divide and conquer.”

Taylor sighed and met my gaze again. “You speak with your father’s skill and your mother’s passion. If you got anything else from either of them, I guess this might not be the worst decision your father ever made.”

I didn’t dare smile. “Does that mean…?”

“You have my vote,” Taylor said, nodding solemnly. “On the condition that you choose several lev-elheaded advisers. And that you listen to them.”

“Done.” I nodded, glancing at both Marc and my uncle.

“Mr. Di Carlo?” I turned toward Vic’s father, well aware that Vic and Teo—and everyone else in the room—were watching us. “Do you need more time to make your decision?” Di Carlo smiled and reached out for my hand, swallowing it in both of his. “No. I trusted your father with my life, and I trust his decision. You are a fiery little ball of fierce determination tempered by a strong moral compass and a heart as big as a bruin’s. The rest will come with time and experience, if you listen to your advisers and learn from your mistakes. And I think you’ll do both of those, won’t you?”

I could only nod, determined not to cry again until I was alone. “Thank you.” I swallowed back unshed tears of gratitude. “I’ll do my best not to disappoint you.”

“Oh, child, it’s not my expectations you have to meet. It’s your Pride’s. And something tells me your own standards are higher than even what they would expect of you.” With a sudden jolt of understanding, I realized he was right. My expectations for myself were sky-high, because they were the expectations my father had set from the beginning. And I would live up to them—or die trying.

When Di Carlo stepped back, I glanced around to find that most of the bruises had been iced, the cuts cleaned, and the gashes stitched. Marc was the last to receive medical attention, and Vic was finishing his sutures that very moment—a long but thankfully shallow cut along his right outer thigh.

“Okay, let’s go.” I turned toward the door, and the men stood.

“Um, Faythe?” Marc reached for my arm, and a small grin turned up one corner of his beautiful mouth. “As my first official piece of advice to the new Alpha, let me suggest that you put on some pants. And maybe a shirt.” His grin grew and he pulled me closer to whisper in my ear, while Jace watched us stiffly from across the room. “While this look definitely works for me, I’m thinking the other Alphas might take you more seriously if you dress the part.” I flushed, suddenly aware that I was half-naked. And that Marc had voluntarily touched me without a needle in his hand or a grudge behind his eyes.

“Yes. Clothes. Good idea.” In the bedroom, I dug through my suitcase and chose a pair of black slacks and a matching thinly pinstriped blouse.

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