"All right, let's see now..." I murmured as I stared at my cookbook with a frying pan in one hand, and a pack of butter in the other.

"And why are you cooking again?" Francis asked at the dining table.

"I gave my staff this week off," I replied. "They were in my way."

"Right, right... You remember how to turn on the stove?" Francis asked. I turned to glare at him, so he quickly continued. "I mean of course you do! You're such a... such a great cook..."

I rolled my eyes at him and put the pan on the stove. "I can follow instructions. Besides, it's just a casserole. Anyone can do that."

Francis snorted. "You can't follow shit. Not rules, not directions, and definitely not instructions. But that's why you're the Boss."

"Thank you," I said.

I started cooking. I carefully followed the instructions to make sure I'd get to wipe the stupid smirk off my right hand's face. I'd rock this casserole. I'd make sure it was the best damn thing Francis had ever eaten. I'd show him...

A moment later, I saw movement in the corner of my eye, and turned around to see the kid carefully peering into the kitchen. "Hey, baby boy! Why are you up already?"

He shrugged and tiptoed his way to me. He smiled at me, rubbed my shoulder with his nose, then peered at the food I was preparing.

"I'm making us a casserole for dinner," I said proudly.

The kid stared at the food with his nose slightly wrinkled, then he turned to look back at me, leaning away.

"Are you giving me the side-eye?" I asked with a frown, but the kid looked somewhere up and away before making his way to Francis instead. "You're both dicks," I told them.

Francis laughed loudly. "Don't worry, kid, no one has died eating his food. Yet. He's just... not very aesthetic about it."

The boy let out the tiniest chuckle as he stopped next to the windows to look at the yard. I rolled my eyes at them, then turned to stare at the food I was making.

"...why is it turning green?" I muttered.

Once the food was finally in the oven, I held my fingers crossed even though it did kind of look like a baby's puke, then turned to stare at the kid. He was still standing by the window, hugging himself lightly as he watched the yard.

It was raining hard, so we couldn't go outside just yet. He was getting more and more curious to go outside, and he didn't seem to mind that the first time had been quite scary to his alpha. He wasn't afraid to try again. It was a good sign.

But I couldn't stop thinking... Maybe he just really wanted to leave.

I did my best to get rid of those sad thoughts that left my heart aching as I made my way to him. He smiled at me when I stopped next to him, his pretty eyes shining again. He looked so much better already... His skin had color, and he had already gained a little bit of weight, so his features weren't as sharp anymore. All his cuts and bruises had already healed, and only one remained.

"Can I see your hand?" I asked.

He gave me his bandaged hand, his expression dropping a little. I smiled at him soothingly as I started peeling the bandages off as carefully as I could. Once the last layer was off, I inspected the old wound carefully.

"It's healing beautifully," I told him, glad to see new skin growing already. "I don't think we need to put new bandages just yet. Let's give it some time to breathe."

He nodded, and I gave him his hand back so he could see it for himself. He didn't really like looking at it, so after a quick glance, he lowered the hand and looked at me instead.

"How are you feeling?" I asked quietly. "Did you get enough sleep?"

He nodded with a small smile, then leaned in to touch my shoulder with his nose, and the heavy feeling in my heart faded. The message was clear, especially after he'd done that twice now: he wanted to bond with me.

Maybe he didn't want to leave, after all...?

With a smile on my face, I carefully pulled him into a hug. He rested his head on my shoulder and his arms on my back. I found his faint scent and took it in, trying to learn everything I could from it. And it felt so right... Holding him felt so right I didn't want to even try to fight back the things I felt for him anymore.

And when he rubbed his nose against the crook of my neck, taking in my scent while pressing himself tighter against me... I wasn't sure if I was able to let go anymore. And on top of that... my alpha's mind was already set. It was ready to claim this boy, and I doubted anything could change its mind.

...My mind.

The kid leaned even harder against me, his breathing growing deep and steady. I held him tighter, showing him he was safe with me and that I'd always take care of him. That he could count on me. That I'd not let him get hurt ever again. That'd I'd rip apart anyone who even looked in his way...

I quickly focused back on the boy before my rage could overtake me. His body was getting heavier in my arms, and his hold on me grew weaker...

"Hey, baby boy...?" I muttered.

He moved a little and yawned, rubbing his cheek on my shoulder like it was a comfy pillow.

"Are you... falling asleep?" I asked, chuckling a little.

"I think it's your pheromones," Francis said quietly. "He's so weak. Even a small dose calms him down too much."

"But why would my pheromones affect him like that? He's an alpha," I asked.

Okay, maybe I was playing a little dumb. Francis sure wasn't shy to roll his eyes at me like I was a complete idiot.

"You do know it has less to do with him being an alpha, and more with the bond you already share with him?" he asked me.

"I..."

I was saved from having to answer that. The intercom suddenly rang, alerting us of a car at the gates. The kid snapped awake and tensed in my arms.

"It's all right, baby boy... It's just a visitor," I murmured, peering out the window, but only saw a dark roof behind the big gates. I let out a sigh and turned to Francis. "Could you take him upstairs? Make sure he goes straight to bed."

"Sure thing, Boss," Francis said, but the kid was reluctant to leave my arms.

"You can go with him," I told him gently with a smile. "I won't take long, okay?"

He still was uncertain, but he let Francis take him. I walked with them to the entrance hall, where the kid gave me a timid look before following Francis up the stairs.

"Try to get some rest, okay? I'll come to you as soon as I can," I promised him when he took one last look at me over his shoulder.

Once they vanished behind the corner, I marched to the intercom, ready to tell the person at my gates to piss off.

I stopped to stare at the screen that showed me the ugliest face on earth.

"Great..." I breathed out, then opened the line with a fake smile on my face. "Captain Hale! Now isn't this a fun little surprise! But why would such a fierce warrior and the hero of our people bother visiting an old nobody such as me?"

"Let me in, Michael, and I'll tell you," he said.

"Could we do this over the phone? I'm kind of preoccupied at the moment," I tried.

"No."

I let out another sigh. "Fine, fine..." I muttered, opening the gates.

There were army dogs I didn't want to have to run away from, and then there was this man's team. Whatever he says goes.

I glanced at the second floor while I closed the gates again, hoping that Francis was smart enough to keep them both quiet. Tom didn't need to know they were here, but he probably already did... 

I tried to stay calm as I opened the front door when the captain exited his car. And he wasn't alone. He had one of his twenty-year-old bloodhounds with him, wearing a mask that covered the bottom half of his face, making him even more intimidating than his captain. They both scanned me quickly, probably to make sure I was unarmed. I had to admit, when these two approached me, both tall and buff as fuck, their movements strong and determined, I got nervous. 

Tom was an old friend… Normally, I trusted him, but I feared he was here because of the kid…

"Michael," Tom greeted me with a polite smile. "It's been a while."

"It has, yes," I said, let them in, and closed the door. "Have a seat."

I gestured to the seating area by the windows, and Tom went to sit down while his bloodhound took a spot right behind his shoulder, crossing arms over his chest. His dark eyes never left me. I was sure I'd get shot if I even looked at his master wrong.

"So? What brings you here?" I asked after taking a seat opposite of Tom.

He stayed silent, his sharp eyes studying me closely. I leaned back in my seat, making myself comfortable as I studied him and his physique. Had he grown even stronger in these past few years…? 

"How long have we been playing these games, Tom?" I finally asked.

He snorted in amusement. "Sorry, old habit."

"If you want to know if I'm nervous, the answer is yes. I'll be shitting bricks for a few days after this," I told him. "And I have a shit ton to hide, so shall we?"

He raised his hands. "Of course. I'm here because there was a shooting at a nightclub about a week ago," he said, jumping straight to the point. "What do you know about that?"

"A group of wannabe terrorists got themselves slaughtered in cold blood," I said.

"Yes, and everyone thinks it was you," Tom said.

"So I've heard," I said slowly.

He raised his eyebrows at me, expecting a proper answer.

I rolled my eyes. "Am I in trouble?" I asked.

"Apollo..." he said, turning to his bloodhound, who gave him a small bag. He pulled a big, fancy bottle of whiskey from it and placed it on the table between us. "I found this outside. I believe it's yours."

I chuckled and leaned closer to check out the bottle. He still remembered…

"Would you look at that? My favorite. I wonder what it was doing outside."

"We know what you did," Tom said, his expression turning serious. "You and your group saved a lot of lives and taxpayers' money by taking care of the problem for us. For that, we are thankful, and in return, all evidence has been... misplaced."

"This is really good whiskey, by the way," I said, refusing to say anything that he could use against me in case this was a trap.

"There is something I must ask, though," Tom said, pulling a small file from the bag as well.

He took a picture from it and showed it to me. My blood boiled when I saw Lonnie's face, and it burned even hotter when I realized the kid was in it, too, looking dead and scared out of his mind.

"What is it?" I asked, slowly turning my attention back to Tom.

"The footage shows Lonnie Hill with his men entering the nightclub. You and your mafia found them. We know you killed them all, except for one," he said. "The kid on the left. What happened to him?"