Chapter 124
Jackson's POV
"Right! Sorry! What I mean is, we could all tell you were upset because you thought Mr. Jackson was angry with you. Really angry. The 'maybe he'll never talk to me again' kind of angry. And it was making you miserable, sir, if you don't mind me saying. Which you probably do mind, but I'm saying it anyway because it's true and someone should acknowledge your feelings—"
"I'm going to fire you," Miles said flatly.
"—and so we got to talking," Dylan continued as if Miles hadn't spoken, "about why Mr. Jackson might be so angry, and that's when I remembered this detail! Because even though you didn't drug Miss Green, sir, she was still in danger that night! Someone else had already drugged her! Which means there was a whole separate threat we didn't know about, and if Mr. Jackson knew that you weren't the only danger to his mate, maybe he wouldn't be so angry at you anymore! Because you were actually protecting her from someone else's plan, in a way, if you think about it from a certain philosophical angle—"
"Dylan," I interrupted, and my voice came out softer than I intended. "You're saying Miles has been... worried? About me being angry with him?"
There was a beat of silence. Then Dylan's voice came through, quieter but somehow more earnest: "He checks his phone every twenty minutes, Mr. Jackson. Every. Twenty. Minutes. And last night he barely touched his dinner, and Mr. Miles loves a good steak. This has been eating at him."
I looked out at the snow-covered yard, processing this. Miles—intimidating, powerful, always-in-control Miles—had been genuinely worried about our relationship. Worried enough that his people noticed and decided to help.
Something in my chest loosened slightly.
Miles cleared his throat roughly. "That's enough emotional commentary, Dylan. This is a professional call."
"Yes, sir. Of course, sir. Though I still think acknowledging feelings is important for workplace morale—"
"Dylan."
"Shutting up now, sir!"
Despite everything—the anger, the fear, the confusion—I felt my lips twitch. Just slightly.
"Who was he?" I asked, bringing us back to business. "The one who drugged her?"
"We tracked him down." Miles's voice was all business now, the vulnerability Dylan had exposed carefully locked away again. "Jack Grey. He's Samantha Grey's brother."
The name hit me like a physical blow. Samantha—Lucas's girlfriend. The one who'd been in Ellie's life since high school, causing problems. The pieces started connecting, forming a picture I didn't like.
I heard a sound from inside—a floorboard creaking. Ellie was awake.
"Keep watching them," I said quietly. "Jack Grey and Samantha Grey. I want to know everything they do."
"Already on it. But Jackson—" Miles hesitated. "Don't tell Ellie yet. No point worrying her until we know more about what we're dealing with."
"I'll decide what to tell my mate," I said, voice cold and final. "But I want Jack Grey dealt with. Personally."
"Don't do anything stupid. You have a mate now—your actions affect her directly. And speaking of responsibilities..." His tone shifted. "Have you reconsidered the Alpha challenge? Because if you want to protect her properly, you need the pack's resources. You need power."
The words settled in my stomach like stones. He was right, damn him.
"I'll think about it."
"Think fast. Winter break ends soon, and the current Alpha isn't getting any more reasonable. Your parents died trying to reform the pack system, Jackson. Don't let their deaths mean nothing."
"I heard you the first hundred times, Miles."
"Then start listening." A pause. "Also, Dylan wants to say goodbye."
"Wait, what—"
"Mr. Jackson!" Dylan's voice burst through, bright and cheerful. "I just want you to know that I think you and Miss Green make a wonderful couple! Absolutely adorable! The way you think about her is like something out of a romance novel—my sister reads those, I don't, but she describes them to me—and I really hope you work things out with Mr. Miles because he's been absolutely insufferable this week, though I'd never say that to his face, obviously, but since you're practically family—"
The line went dead.
I stood there for a moment, phone in hand, staring at it. Then, despite everything—despite Jack Grey and Samantha Grey and pack politics and my parents' deaths—I felt a laugh bubble up in my chest.
Dylan was absolutely ridiculous.
But he'd also been right about Miles. And that mattered.
I pushed off the railing and headed back inside. Through the door, I could hear water running—Ellie was in the bathroom, probably splashing cold water on her face like she did every morning.
Jack Grey. The name burned in my mind as I walked. Someone had targeted my mate before I'd even known she existed. Before we'd bonded. Why?
And Miles's words echoed: You need power.
My parents had tried to change things. Tried to make the pack more democratic, less brutal. And they'd died in a "car accident" that I'd never quite believed was accidental.
Was I really ready to walk that same path? To risk everything—including Ellie—for a position I'd spent years running from?
The bathroom door opened, and Ellie emerged, hair damp at the temples, eyes still slightly sleepy. When she saw me, her whole face lit up.
"Hey," she said softly. "I woke up and you were gone. Everything okay?"
"Everything's fine," I lied smoothly, crossing to her. "Just pack business. Nothing for you to worry about."
She studied my face for a moment, and I saw the concern there, the question. But she trusted me enough not to push.
"Your parents up yet?" I asked, changing the subject.
"I don't think so. It's still early." She reached for my hand, and I gave it willingly, lacing our fingers together. "Come back to bed? Just for a little while?"
I shouldn't. I should put distance between us, keep my head clear while I figured out what to do about Jack Grey, about Miles, about everything.
But Orion was already purring with approval, and Ellie was looking at me with those warm eyes that held so much trust, and I could hear her heartbeat—steady and strong and alive because Miles's people had gotten to her before Jack Grey could finish whatever he'd started.
"Just for a little while," I agreed, and let her pull me back toward the bedroom.
She curled into my side immediately as we lay on her bed, her head finding its perfect spot against my shoulder. I felt her breathing slow, becoming deep and even again, the tension leaving her body.
And as I held her, feeling her heartbeat steady and strong against me, listening to the quiet sounds of her parents' house waking up around us, I made a silent promise.
Whatever it took, I would keep her safe. Jack Grey would answer for what he'd done.
Not yet. But soon.
Soon, Orion agreed, a low growl of promise in my mind.
For now, though, I would hold my mate and let her feel safe. Let her enjoy her parents' home and the simple happiness of being together.
The storms could wait until tomorrow.