Alpha Daughter {Discontinued}

Chapter Twenty Eight

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Thanks for reading. Feel free to point out mistakes.

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Kristina's POV

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He shifted before he'd even fully entered the clearing. I sighed and began walking.

"What the hell!" He boomed, his voice shaking the trees.

"Oh, like you're one to staring fucking yelling!" I snapped back, my slow walk changing into something angrier, fiercer.

"What the fuck!" He yelled, forming his words around his lengthening canines, spittle flying.

"Don't start with me when your junks out and an swinging. Rule one of parenthood, don't show your kids you fucking dick!"

His face grew red and he stopped, looking down briefly as if to conform it was true before he slapped his hands over his no no square. I had made a point not to look cause that was ... Gross.

This time when he spoke, his voice was a lot quieter. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking," I seethed continuing forwards even as he stopped. "That I needed to get away from my disgusting pimp of a father!"

He flinched.

"I was thinking," I continued my voice getting louder the more I spoke. "That my mom was right to run away! That she was better off without a measly lowlife messing up what she could have built! What she did build! Alone! With me! With savannah and with Josh-"

Josh.

Shit!

I whirled around, snarling. "We don't have time for this. We need to get to a doctor. Now."

A hand snagged against my arm and yanked it free, snapping at my father who dropped his hand immediately. "Wait, wait a minute. What are you talking about?"

"Josh." I said, walking on. "He got hurt. Real bad. Kyle says he's been poisoned by the sick fucks that did this to him. So we need the doctor. Now."

"Kyle? Who the fuck is Kyle?"

"Kyle ..." I said, sleepy, sucking in a slap breath, looking over at him in the corner of my eye. "He's ... Kyle." He's my mate.

I don't know why I didn't tell him straight up. Why I didn't just say "Kyle, my mate.". That's what I liked to think anyway. But if I was being honest ... I was afraid. Afraid that he'd keep him from me. That he'd make me marry that guy anyway. That he'd ... that he'd kill him, kill my mate.

I let out a shaky breath. I turned from him and began striding back to the male in question, or well, males. All of them - excluding my best friend - were up and looking at me, at us, at the group my father had towed along with him, at the scene we were making with all our yelling and passive aggressive behaviour.