POV: JACKSON
It was just Saint and I in the office. I glanced over at him; he was staring at his shoes, lost in thought. I could sense his anxiety about what might transpire—who wouldn't feel that way? The details of the situation were unclear to me, but I was determined to uncover the truth. While I didn't embrace the mate bond, I couldn't let him come to harm; he was somewhat my responsibility now.
Admitting that felt strange.
"Don't get too anxious, Saint. I promise I won't let anything happen to you. Just stay calm," I reassured him. He looked up, offering a faint nod in response.
"I'm just concerned about my mom. What if they target her? I'm not sure…" His voice trembled with worry.
"She'll be alright. I'll make sure some guards are assigned to keep an eye on her, so don't worry," I replied.
"Okay. I think I'll head home now; all of this has left me worn out," he said, rubbing his arms.
"I'll give you a ride," I offered, standing up to grab my keys.
"No, it's okay. I don't want to inconvenience you," he said.
"I don't have much to do right now, so it's really no trouble," I assured him as I walked him out of the office. Once we reached the ground floor, I opened the car, and we both climbed in.
Saint stepped into the car and let out a gentle sigh, a habit he seems to have every time he joins me. My curiosity piqued, I couldn't resist asking him about it.
"Why do you always sigh when you get in the car?"
"Oh, um.....It smells like you," he mumbled, casting his gaze out the window in an attempt to mask the blush that was already evident.
He looked adorable blushing like that. I paused for a moment, surprised by my own thoughts. Shaking my head, I started the car and drove us home.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him repeatedly rubbing his ears. He seemed to want to say something but kept closing his mouth. Was he holding back?
"Do you have something on your mind?" I asked.
"Yeah, but I'm not sure how to say it," he replied, still fidgeting with his ears.
"Well, I'm all ears—no need to feel anxious," I reassured him.
"How did you know I was anxious?" he asked, looking genuinely taken aback.
"It's just that you tend to rub your ears when you're nervous. Am I mistaken?" I glanced at him, and he quickly averted his gaze to the road. I couldn't help but chuckle softly.
"I wanted to ask what time the warriors train. I'd like to join them," he said. I wondered why he felt nervous about that; he should feel free to do whatever he wants or enjoys. I considered telling him this, but he pressed on.
"I realize the Luna isn't meant to train with the warriors, but—" I interjected.
"You are not Luna." My tone was firm, and a frown formed on my face. Immediately, he fell silent, staring blankly at his lap. Why did he think he was?
Upon arriving home, I parked the car before I spoke again. "Feel free to do as you wish; you don't need my approval. Training begins at six in the morning at the field," I informed him, my frown still lingering.
"I'm heading to my room," he replied, quickly exiting the vehicle.
"Nice going, jackass," JJ muttered with a low growl.
"What? He thinks he's now the Luna when I clearly said we're just friends?" I retorted.
"Are you not going to explain to your pack why he's staying with you?" JJ inquired.
That question made me hesitate. Honestly, I hadn't considered it.
He's clearly thought it through. You need to tell the pack he's your mate sooner or later. Now you've put him in a bad mood, JJ grumbled, shutting me out.
I sighed. How did my life end up like this?
I stepped out of the car and entered the house. Beth and Tom were in the living room, engrossed in a TV show. "Thanks, Beth, I'll handle things from here," I said.
"Sure thing, Alpha. I'll be on my way," she replied, tousling Tom's hair. He giggled and waved her off. I joined Tom to watch TV as well, but my thoughts kept drifting back to Saint. I need to apologize to him. I don't understand why I keep saying hurtful things.
After a few hours of zoning out from the TV, Tom decided to retreat to his room to shower and tackle his homework, while I headed to mine for a quick wash. Since then, Saint hasn't come out from his room. Was he purposely avoiding me?
I slipped into a matching set of pajamas with Tom and made my way to the dining area, where I found him already enjoying his meal. Moments later, Saint appeared with a plate of food in hand.
"He knocked on my door and said he wanted dinner, so…" Saint explained.
"Daddy, I came to your room, but you were in the bathroom, so I went to Uncle Saint," Tom chimed in, scooping up a spoonful of his meal.
"That's alright, buddy," I replied, pressing a kiss into his hair.
"I'll just eat in my room. Excuse me," Saint said, retreating back to his space. Yep, he's definitely avoiding me. With a sigh, I headed to the kitchen to grab my own dinner.
Should I go knock on his door? What if he's already asleep? Forget it, I'll just apologize tomorrow morning when he's on his way to training.
"Daddy, is the food bad?" Tom asked, his eyes fixed on me with curiosity.
"No, why do you say that?"
"Because you're playing with your food just like Blakey and I play football," he giggled.
I couldn't help but laugh. "No, the food is perfectly fine."
He continued eating, taking another spoonful. "Aunt Bethy made dinner today. But…" he paused to chew and swallow before continuing, "I think Aunt CeeCee cooks better. But don't tell her that."
I let out a small chuckle. "Alright, I won't tell. Just finish up so you can head to bed, okay?"
He nodded in agreement. This has always been our routine, my son and I. However, I sense that things might shift with Saint around. I'm not sure how I feel about that—neither particularly fond nor entirely opposed.
This brings to mind the issue of the whispers. I need to act swiftly; I can't let anything happen to Saint or my pack. Their safety is my priority.
After dinner, I tucked Tom into bed. "It seems like you and Blake are getting pretty close," I remarked as I adjusted his blankets.
"Mhm, but he's made another friend now."
"That's good, right? It means you all can be friends together."
"I'm not- I don't think I like his new friend. He's kind of strange," Tom replied, a slight frown forming on his forehead.
"Strange? In what way?"
"He always talks over me when I'm talking to Blakey, and I was his friend first!" he exclaimed, crossing his arms defiantly.
"Maybe you could give him a chance? He might want to be friends with you too."
"I guess I could try," he said, sounding unsure.
"That's the spirit. Goodnight, Son." I kissed his cheeks gently.
"Goodnight, Daddy."
I turned off the lights and stepped out. I made
a mental note to revisit the conversation with him later, and another to make sure I apologize to Saint tomorrow.