“They may not, I know Deacon would have stopped by home looking for me by now, which in turn will have my father questioning my whereabouts.”
“You seriously like that little weasel?” he questions, his eyes narrowing.
“Well, he is my boyfriend,” I admit. Zayn leans back with his arms folded across his chest, eyeing me.
“He’s not your mate?” he questions, and I shake my head. Deacon already admitted I’m not his mate, he is two years older than me and has his wolf.
“No, that I do know. His wolf hates me because Deacon wants to mark me when I come of age.”
“His wolf wants his mate?”
I shrug, unsure. I tend to try not to be around him when his wolf is loose.
“You’re scared of his wolf?” he presses.
“Can we talk about something else?” I ask, not feeling this conversation is appropriate.
“Does mine scare you?” he asks.
“Yours hasn’t bitten me, besides nipping me in the freezer. At least not to deliberately hurt me,” I tell him. “Though he is huge, and his aura is potent, but no, your wolf doesn’t scare me. Well, he did when you shifted. Not after falling asleep with him.” I snort.
“Deacon’s wolf bit you?”
I nod when a lady brings out a milkshake. I thank her, then reach for my milkshake. The coldness of it soothes my dry throat as I take a sip.
“Yes, he lost control a couple of years ago and shifted when we had an argument. He tore into me,” I admit.
“That’s why you have the scar on your hip, the one you covered with your tattoo?” he questions, and I nod.
“What about your tattoos? You have a heap?” I ask, trying to push his attention away from my relationship with Deacon. My eyes roam over his arms that are covered in them to his chest, I can just make out the edges of them poking out beneath his shirt.
“Pack emblem,” he says, patting one side of his chest. Though I did notice the other side was bare. “My arms?” He shrugs. “My father had the same ones; I got them for him.” Confusion settles over me.
“I thought you hated your father?” I ask. My eyes widen and I cover my mouth before quickly apologizing. “Sorry, that’s none of my business.” “What made you think that?” he asks curiously.
“No reason.” I shake my head, not wanting to answer. He raises an eyebrow at me.
“Then why would you assume?” he chuckles. I sigh heavily, knowing he won’t drop it now.
“Rumors, everyone says you killed him.”
“I did, but I don’t hate him. I loved my father; he was a good dad, husband, and Alpha,” he tells me. Now that confuses me more.
“He changed the last couple of years. Werewolves do that when they lose their mates, he was unstable,” is all he offers in the way of an explanation.
The woman returns with our food, and I glance down to see what Zayn has ordered and sigh in relief, thinking for sure it would be salad or something.
“You look shocked,” he laughs as I pick up a fry.
“Yeah, most people assume since I’m a girl I like salad. I think Deacon forgets I’m a werewolf, not a rabbit,” I chuckle.
“Why do you let him order for you if you don’t like what he orders?”Great, back to Deacon again we go.
I shrug, “I think he finds it intimidating that I’m Alpha born and he is a regular wolf. He said he liked ordering for me, like he has control over something, I think… I don’t know. I just allow him to, if it makes him feel better,” I say, shrugging and putting another fry in my mouth.
“He should be intimidated, you’re an Alpha. And you shouldn’t have to sacrifice your nature just because he is uncomfortable.”
“You ordered for me!”
