I hesitate to look up at him. My breathing drags, and I hear his own voice falter. God, is this how I’m going to spend the rest of my life? Stuttering and stammering around my mate?
“You both are quite close,” he finally says, and it sounds like he’s swallowing a pill he doesn’t want to take. I brush my hair out of my eyes and look up at him, shrugging.
“Oscar’s probably the only person my age who’s my friend,” I explain. “I guess you can say we’re close, but not that close. Like, not ‘more than a friend’ close.”
He smiles. “Maybe to you,” he murmurs. He turns towards the dancing, his eyes searching for Oscar through the crowd. “But I have a feeling that he feels quite differently.”
“Nah, I doubt it,” I wave aside his words dismissively. “Oscar’s just my friend, that’s it.”
He chuckles. “If you say so,” he agrees. He takes my hand, clasping it tightly in his. “Are you okay? Do you need something to drink?”
I shake my head and give him a small smile. “I’m okay,” I say. I take a shaky breath. “It’s just…Alpha Banastre scares me.”
His eyes harden. “I’ve noticed,” his voice comes out as a low growl. “He’s not exactly the most pleasant man in the room.”
“Have you ever had any complaints on him?” I ask.
“Two,” the Alpha King says, and I think back to what Luna Hailey was saying about the three-strike policy. Alpha Banastre had only one left.
“What happens when someone gets three strikes?” I ask.
The Alpha King frowns. “Well, they get kicked out of their position and sometimes exiled, depending on the severity of the charges.”
“What about their family?”
“It depends. If they’re found guilty of conspiring with him then they go with him. If not, usually they retain the pack.”
“Is…death ever involved?” I hesitate in asking, but the Alpha King nods readily at my question.
“Sometimes,” he says. “Like I said, depends on the severity. Usually it’s rape or murder that brings the death sentence. Or the continuous harm of wolves after three strikes.”
“Oh…okay,” I nod, a burst of confidence exploding in my chest. I puff up a little, nodding again. “Okay, I get it. Sorry for all the questions.”
He laughs, squeezing my hand. “It’s perfectly okay,” he grins. “It’s good to ask questions, and I expected them from you anyway.”
I roll my eyes. “I suppose you did,” I bite my lip. “Actually, I have one more thing I’d like to ask, if that’s okay?”
“You don’t have to ask for my permission to ask a question, or to do anything,” The Alpha King says, then pauses. “Well, unless it risks your life, then yes, but apart from that, ask way!”
I giggle, and the feeling of having my heart able to expand with happiness brings a rush of eagerness spread through me. It’s nice being able to talk this freely with someone apart from Luna Hailey and Oscar. It feels especially special knowing that it’s a person I’ll be spending the rest of my life with…I want to spend the rest of my life with him, my mate. I have no doubt that he wants that with me.
“What’s your name?” I tilt my head. “I mean, if it’s okay to ask?”
He blinks, as if the thought that us exchanging names hadn’t occurred to him, then bursts out laughing. He throws his head back and clutches his stomach with his free hand. His laughter is contagious, and soon, I’m giggling with him, poorly attempting to cover my laughter.
“I’m sorry,” he wipes his eyes. “I completely forgot to tell you!”
I shrug. “Unless you don’t want to…”
“No, no, I do,” he assures, wiping his eyes again. “It’s just…absurd to me that I haven’t introduced myself properly to my own mate!”
“Good to know I’m not the only one new to this thing,” I murmur, rubbing my arm. “I mean, I’ve only ever known you as ‘The Alpha King’. It’s how everyone in my pack addresses you.”
He nods. “It’s what I’m known as to most,” he explains. “But my name is Jackson.”
“Jackson?”
“Yep,” he pops the last letter, grinning boyishly. “Jackson Gage, at your service, my lady.” He sweeps a bow and I giggle.
“It’s a nice name – Jackson,” I repeat, testing the name on my tongue. “The son of Jack?”
He shrugs and his cheeks redden. “My father’s name,” he coughs. “I’m just thankful I’m not Jack the third or something.”
I grin. “That would be kind of funny,” I say. “But I like that name. Jackson. It reminds me of a knight or something.”
He smiles. “I’m glad you like it,” he murmurs. “It sounds good coming from you.”
I don’t know how to reply to that, so I just settle for a small smile. Jackson smiles back at me, and we stand there awkwardly for a few seconds until the lights around us dim. The chatter stops and the music fades to a sultry purr. The DJ says something unintelligible through the static of the mic and afterwards, a slow, calming song begins to play. It’s gentle and soft, enough to make your body sway.
“What song is this?” I cock my head towards the sound of the music.
Jackson also tilts his head, and after a few moments of listening to the song’s lyrics, he speaks.
“It’s a Hindi song,” he explains. “Duniya from Luka Chuppi.“
“Oh,” I hum. “I don’t know Hindi.”
“It’s a romantic song,” he clarifies. “He’s talking about how he wants to build his own world with her.” He pauses, then sings, “Basaun tere sang main alag duniya. Let’s build our own little world.” He gazes down at me, and my stomach flutters. Is he singing it to me? Or just translating?
“Right,” I bite my lip. “So…um…”
Jackson brings my hand up to his lips, placing a chaste kiss on the top of it. “I believe I owe you a dance, my lady?”
