My Damaged Alpha

Chapter 2: No Promises

*BANG BANG BANG*

Groaning, I was awakened from my peaceful sleep by the unwelcomed banging to my door. Slipping off the couch, I opened the door to a very tall and bearded, furious old man.

'Busted." Atlas teased.

'Shut up. It might not be what we think. Let's play it cool.'

Clearing my throat, I decided to talk first, "What do you need, Pops?"

Fury raged from his features, turning his brown eyes pitch black as his wolf thrashed to be let out. Huffing, he replied, "What do I need? What do YOU need!? You need a damn chastity belt son!"

This enraged me. Clenching my teeth, I breathed in and out in an attempt to control myself, "You know I don't like you calling me son." I muttered, pinching in between my eyebrows as a headache started to form.

"You're damn right. I wouldn't want my son to act the way you do with all those sluts," he huffed, clenching his muscular frame.

"Well you got a grandson who acts that way. Congratulations." I scoffed, crossing my arms.

Stomping to my bed and tearing off the sheets, assessing the evidence of a woman laying there. Sighing, he bowed his head in his hand, running his hand in his wavy grey hair. After a few minutes of silence, he whipped his head to me.

"Why?" he stared at me with pity and something else I couldn't tell.

"Why not? She wanted it and I wanted it too."

"But what about your mate? You should wait for her. You're only hurting yourself and your future mate."

Laughing and throwing my hands in the air, I yelled, "'Mate' this 'mate' that, you and Atlas won't shut up about her. For all I know, she might not even exist!" turning and staring at my enraged grandfather, I could feel the blackness escaping the hole in my heart. Spreading throughout my body and settling in my gut. This is the millionth time he barged in after a hook up. I knew, I just knew, he was going to do something this time.

Glaring at me, Pops pointed at me, " You hail from a line of purebred, divine werewolf alphas, devoted servants to the Moon Goddess herself, and being the strongest descendant there ever was in the history of our family, I expected better of you son. Come to my office at eight sharp. Don't be late." With that, Pops turned away from me, an excuse of a grandson, and stormed out the room.

'Well that went well.' Atlas stated. With the anger from my earlier betrayal to my future "mate" subsided, he started speaking coherently.

'Very well indeed, my friend.'

Grabbing some ripped jeans and a black V-neck, I left my room. Spotting a maid in the hallway, I told her to throw away the sheets and replace them with a fresh set. I left the house and went on my way to the Main Pack House to conduct business.

Being a huge pack, there were three pack houses, the Main House being the largest one. The other two, the Southern House and the Northern House, lay on the southern and northern territories respectively. In addition to the pack houses, there were hundreds of neighborhoods scattered throughout the territory for those who wished to raise their family in privacy.

On the short walk to the Main House, I walked by groups of my people, all who which bowed and looked upon me with reverence. Children screaming with glee running across my path, waving to me before erupting into play once again. Everyone looked happy, even if I was not, I liked to make sure my pack was.

My pack, Ironcrest, easily one of the largest and strongest in North America, consists of many different varieties of people. Some hail from Asia, some South America or Africa, and others from Europe or America. A very diverse group, but family nonetheless.