Daddy's Dom

Chapter 1

Julian POV

The second time this month. The. Second. Time. In only one month, that I had to walk into this school with my head hung low, absolutely embarrassed. Every person who saw which room I was headed to either sent me judgmental looks or pitying looks. Hell, they knew me by name at this point with the amount of times I have to come into this school. Why?

Because of Carter. My sweet, precious, asshole of a child.

No, not for parent-teacher meetings. Not for congratulations on how my son is doing so exceedingly well, he's such a great student. Nope.

It's always for a DC. Disciplinary committee. Meeting with the teacher. Meeting with the advisor. Looking for a way to help. Because, apparently, my son was a troubled child and needed guidance. 

Heaving an exhausted sigh, I pushed open the door that weighed a thousand pounds. There was a group of people waiting inside, but only one person caught my attention. He was always the one who caught my attention in a room full of people.

There he was, looking up at me with that dazzling, sheepish smile and those pretty brown eyes with the sun hitting them just right, turning them into honey. Sandy brown surfer-boy hair falling into his eyes and one dimple in his right cheek. He was handsome and adorable all in one.

"Hi there, pops. Sorry this is happening again," Carter mused, rubbing the back of his skull in a way that made his bicep flex just right. His bashful smile twitched up, turning cocky, sharp as a knife. "I just can't help beating the shit outta all the assholes in this place."

Of course he wasn't really sorry. He never was. Carter saw himself as the vigilante of Plymouth South High, a superhero without a cape. He thought he was so powerful, beating up the kids who pushed other people into lockers or shoving their heads into toilets. He was like a modern, backwards Robin Hood, stealing swirlies from the weak and delivering swirles to the strong.

"Don't use that kind of language," I said, dryly. I was always dry. I had the personality of the desert, and the rare jokes I crack were like that one tumbleweed that always rolled across the screen of desert movies.

"Sorry, pops." Carter's smile turned playful again and he patted the seat next to him. "C'mon over, make yourself comfy."

I dutifully plopped down. You'd think he was the father.

Don't think about that.

Yeah, that was a touchy subject for me. Suddenly feeling awkward, I cleared my throat and looked at the principle.

"Hi, Mr. Asher. I'm really sorry we're in this position again," I said, feeling my cheeks burn a little. I hated talking to people in general, but having these conversations were the worst.

"It's not your fault, Mr. Scott. The one who should be sorry here is Carter." Mr. Asher glared at my son. It was the glare of a dominant werewolf, which is what Mr. Asher was. Jason Asher was his full name. He was a burly black guy with a scar through his eyebrow and a bump on his nose from a fistfight he'd gotten into with a werewolf from another pack. I was glad Asher was a part of my pack, because it would be cripplingly embarrassing to be lectured by an outsider about my parenting.

Although I had to admit, being in the same pack was definitely the elephant in the room. One that my son's advisor, Ms. Prasad, a cute little old human from somewhere across the Atlantic, possibly India, did not pick up on.

Because why the fuck would she assume we were werewolves.

Carter leaned back in his chair, unaffected by Mr. Asher's glare. My son was a dominant werewolf as well, and cocky at that, so taking the stare wasn't too much for him. Me on the other hand? I'd be breaking out in hives.

"To be quite honest, I'm not sorry," Carter mused. "Because I punched Jackson in the face while he was literally tossing that twink from my math class into a trashcan. A trashcan, Mr. Asher." He raised an eyebrow and let out a low whistle. "Now that's just sick. Beating on twinks? So not classy. And cliché too."

Mr. Asher twitched. "So you punched him in the face. 8 times, according to eyewitnesses?"

"Yeah," Carter said, looking almost smug. "Jackson, not the twink."

"Please stop saying twink."

"My bad, Sir." Carter's dimple appeared.

"Are you aware that Jackson has a broken nose?"

"Oh my God," I moaned. Broken? There's a medical bill I'll probably going to have to pay.

Carter frowned. "Uh oh. Oops."

Ms. Prasad frowned. "This sort of thing is happening all the time, Mr. Scott." She was talking to me. Joy. "Carter's acts of violence are becoming a commonplace in our community, so much so that kids are beginning to avoid him out of fear. We can't allow this to continue, something has to change. Is there any reason you can think of that Carter keeps lashing out?"

I studied my son. He turned to look at me, curiosity dancing in his eyes. A slight upturn to his soft pink lips. I was momentarily distracted by the way that little lilt in his smile made the light dusting of freckles on his cheeks ripple. Tan and freckles? He definitely didn't get those good looks and lucky genes from me.

"I don't know what it could be," I finally sighed. "There's nothing going on at home. Money's a little tight right now, but it's really not anything that I can't handle or that concerns Carter." I trailed off and noticed that Carter was looking at me with significantly less amusement. Good. He should be upset. "Kiddo, is this about your mom?"

Carter's nose wrinkled. "No," he snapped, eyes flashing. He gave me an angry stare and a shiver shot down my spine, but I resisted the urge to look down. He was my brat, I wasn't going to let my natural urges get in the way of my parenting. "Where'd you come up with that idea?"

"It's the only event of significance that I can think of." I turned to the other adults in the room. "My wife, Sussanne, passed away when Carter was three."

"I don't remember her," Carter growled. That was a lie. He still had a couple memories of her that he had mentioned to me in the past. Major things, like Christmas or when she was in the hospital for the first time.

Oh Susanne. My heart clenched just thinking about her. She was a sweet girl, without a mate as myself. We ended up getting married and having children, because we liked each other well enough and we wanted something to fill the emptiness of not having a mate.

"Well, whatever it is, we suggest you two have a discussion and come to a conclusion. One more incident and Carter will be expelled. I'm sorry to have to say this, but it's a school rule. This is his second suspension." Ms. Prasad turned to Carter. "This is your last year of highschool, try to finish strong. You're almost an adult Carter. Once you're 18, assault will become a lot more serious than a bullying issue in school."

Carter shoved his hands into his pockets and nodded. Oh boy, he was such a handful. But he was still my little boy and my heart dreaded the talk we were going to have to have.