Calling The Kettle Black

Jaxon “Alpha Jaxon, I’m sorry sir but the Alpha quarters are strictly off limits for anyone except for Alpha Christian”, a warrior seethes as I push right by him climbing the stairs two by two of the pack house. He’s nothing more than a mere pup, puffing his chest out and attempting to block the entrance of the hallway. I heave a single growl and I can tell by the look of fear that spreads across his face that he may have wet his pants. His gaze trails down submissively to his black leather boots and I nearly feel guilty for terrifying this awful excuse of a warrior, making a metal note that Alpha Christian really needs to focus on his warrior training. It was no wonder his defensive lines had no idea where the fire had come from. “Don’t try me pup or I’ll make sure you won’t have a chance to do it a second time”, I say through gritted teeth. My irritation is purging through me that someone in this pack would openly disrespect not only my mate but also myself, a visiting Alpha, by scav