Chapter 9 (pt1)

Nate

Nate released a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair. He scooped up the papers in front of him, shuffled them into a small stack, and set them on the larger pile near the front corner of his desk. Then moved onto the next pile.

His entire office was a mess. Paper upon paper, files upon files were practically consuming the floor. The room smelled like old documents and a copy machine. Even the leather couch along the wall held stacks of clutter.

Damn Marcus and his inability to keep a place organized.

Nate had easily stepped back into the business aspect of being Alpha. For the first few hours after he'd arrived, he'd moved effortlessly through documents, setting aside the less important ones and focusing on the vital information. But even the best businessman couldn't stand so much work in front of him.

About half an hour later, a knock sounded on the door. "Nathaniel? Honey, can I come in?"

Nate glanced at the huge stack of papers. Surely a little break wouldn't hurt anything? "Sure, Mom."

Theresa's long brown hair flowed gracefully behind her as she entered. She eyed the mess distastefully. "How long have you been working?"

He glanced at his sleek Rolex. "Maybe six hours."

Theresa's eyes widened. "Nathaniel, it's nine in the morning! You mean to tell me you've been up since three?" she asked him in that disappointed tone only mothers achieved.

"I couldn't sleep."

She placed her hands on her hips and stepped forward until she was toe-to-toe with the desk. "I'm overruling you. Come on, let's go get some breakfast."

"Mom—"

"Nope, no excuses. Let's go." She clapped her hands three times. "Up, up, up."

He groaned and got out of the rolling chair. It took too much effort to shuffle his way to the door. His mom followed close behind.

"We're taking Marcus with us. It's a Saturday morning and it's high time we go out as a family."

***

Theresa walked into Lindy's Diner with all the confidence in the world. Nate and Marcus reluctantly entered after her. They'd done all the convincing they could to try and get their mother to agree to some place a bit...nicer, but it was no use. Their mother was a former Alpha female—she practically wrote the manual on how to be stubborn.

Lindy's wasn't too packed for a Saturday morning. The hustle and bustle of the place never slowed, even with such few people in the area. It was a place Nate had been to so many times he'd lost count. He grew up coming to this place. It was practically his second kitchen.

The few wolves in the restaurant lowered their eyes and dropped their heads slightly once Nate and his family came in, as a sign of respect and submission. Nate and Marcus nodded in recognition.

After settling themselves in a quaint little booth near the back, Nate spoke. "Is it just me, or does this place seem like it's deteriorating?"

While he was speaking, Marcus tried to grab some napkins out of the silver napkin dispenser. Just as he pulled, the one side of the metal box fell off and onto the table with a clatter.

Marcus frowned at it. "Definitely deteriorating."

"Oh, hush," Theresa commanded. "This place doesn't have to be fancy. It has the best food in town."

"Well, there's not really many choices, Mom," Marcus pointed out. "It's a small town. We don't even have a McDonald's. I have to drive fifty minutes just to get a Big Mac."

"Your father used to love this place," Theresa said quietly. "Him and Lindy were good friends."

That sobered them.

"I miss him," Marcus said. "I know it's been awhile, but I still expect to see him messing around in the backyard with all the pups or coming out of his office."

"Me too, honey," Theresa agreed with a gentle smile. "But I have no doubt in my mind he's in a better place now."

Marcus cleared his throat and changed the subject. "So, Nate, how was your trip? And don't give me crap details, man."

Nate shrugged. "It was okay."

"Really? That's it?" Marcus asked in frustration. "You made me take over pack business for almost four years and all you have to say is that it was 'okay'?"

His brother absentmindedly played with his silverware. "Yeah, pretty much."

"No fights?"

He shrugged. "A few."

"Any leads?"

Nate clenched his fist so tight his knuckles turned white. "No."

It pissed him off so much. The scent of his father's murderer still haunted his nostrils, controlled his dreams, and played with his mind. He would give his right hand for just two minutes with the killer. Two minutes was all he would need to get revenge for what happened.

"How about the rest of the packs? How are they all doing?"

"Not good," Nate told him somberly, keeping his voice soft so none of the other wolves could hear. "I've stayed with a few of them during my search."

"I've heard some of them are just absolutely chaotic," Marcus barely whispered.

"That's a good way to put it. If they haven't disappeared completely, then they're hanging on by a thread."

Theresa blinked. "What about the Alphas?"

Nate's answer was delayed by the arrival of their waitress.

"Hello there! My name's Claire and I'll be your server today. What can I get you all to drink?"

Nate's head snapped up. "Claire?"

"Hello, Alpha," she replied politely, keeping her head bowed gently in submission. "How are you this morning?"

Something itched inside Nate's chest at her voice. It wasn't a bad itch. It was something he'd never felt before. Something primitive that made his whole body warm and his wolf purr in contentedness.

Her scent of lavender and spice washed over him. Such a strange combination that oddly worked and made him twitch with...excitement?

"I'm doing fine, Claire." He couldn't help but let her name roll off his tongue. "Though I do wish you would call me Nate."

Nate gestured to Theresa. "Claire, this is my mother, Theresa. Mom, this is Claire, one of our Omegas. And I do believe you've met my brother and Beta, Marcus." Claire reached over and gave both his family members a brief handshake.

Nate tried not to be irked by the fact that she shook Marcus' hand and not his. It made his wolf too unhappy.

"You two know each other?" Marcus asked, the previous conversation put on hold.

Claire blushed lightly, head still lowered. "Yes, Sir. Uh..." She trailed off, no doubt scrambling for an explanation.

"I visited Claire and her brother the other night to do a checkup," Nate responded easily, not taking his eyes from her face. He absolutely adored the color brought to her cheeks by her embarrassment.

Claire cleared her throat awkwardly. "So, can I get you anything to start off with?"

Theresa glanced at Nate and then turned to Claire with a twinkle in her hazel eyes. A twinkle that made Nate nervous. "I'll have a coffee and the breakfast special." She closed up her menu and handed it to Claire.

Claire slid the menu under an arm and scratched the order on her notepad. "Of course, Ma'am. And would you like white, wheat, or cinnamon raisin toast with it?"

"Cinnamon raisin. And please, call me Theresa." Theresa beamed, her hand resting under her chin to support her head. She was openly staring at Claire, as if assessing her.

"Ma'am, I don't think—"