I'd been hired to bring Jazz to his father's home, a place that had once acted as Jazz's prison. At the same time, Walter Whitten's lies for wanting his son home were unfounded. I could only assume that meant Jazz's father didn't have his son's health and prosperity in mind. He wanted something else, and I needed to discover what that something was before Walter grew tired of waiting. All of that amounted to one very good reason to keep Jazz's status a secret. At the same time, this wasn't any pack. These were the Walkers. Faust had done work for Nash in the past. They'd developed a rapport. They were Elders for the pack and had only ever been helpful and friendly.
"I don't mind," Jazz answered before I could voice my protests.
My desire to give Jazz exactly what he wanted to keep him happy warred with the desire to keep him safe.
Jazz's upper half rotated to face me. "Unless you mind?"
That he'd paused to ask me my opinion meant he trusted what I had to say, and that above everything else convinced me. "If we keep the questions to a minimum and the group small."
Dr. Tiff looked back again to relay the message, but the owners of the shadows were already spilling through the doorway.
The shifter at the lead couldn't have been much older than Jazz. If that. He was average height—uncommon for an alpha. His chestnut brown hair curled around his ears. Beside him stood a massive black man, his chest so wide his body wouldn't fit entirely on the screen.
"My name is Alpha Tyson, and this is my omega, Tyrone," the young Alpha said with a polite nod. He had a soft, musical voice with a soothing resonance. "I'll admit right away, I asked Hollister about you." Alpha Tyson's shy confession was further evidence toward how unlike an average Alpha this man was.
Due to our location, our old pack had been insulated from much of the shifter-to-shifter violence and conflict. We hadn't needed to bother ourselves with how other Alphas led their packs. The way they commanded their people wouldn't have worked with our situation. But it was still the shifter way, and I recognized that, my pack acted as an outlier, not the other way around.
Paul focused his gaze on me. He didn't harden his expression or do anything else that could have been considered posturing. His lips remained in a near smile, and his blue eyes were bright, open. "I've heard less about you…Knox?" The light incline in his tone conveyed he was asking what I preferred or what my title was.
I bowed my head. "Knox is fine."
"It's a pleasure to meet you. I've only been Alpha here for a few months, and I haven't met too many other…" He rolled his hand in a vague reference toward the other shifters he'd met while holding the position of their leader.
His omega leaned over, pressing their arms together in silent support.
Alpha Tyson's hand calmed and settled somewhere off screen. "Anyway, wings, huh? And rainbow puke? That's crazy."
Jazz leaned closer to the computer, encouraged by Alpha Tyson's casual tone. "Thank you. That's what I've been saying this whole time. Totally crazy. I prefer the bubblegum puke to the normal kind, though."
The two shared a grin I might have been jealous of if I couldn't clearly see how well suited Alpha Tyson was with his omega. The omega had yet to say a word, but I didn't need him to speak to be able to see their connection. They reminded me of a tugboat and a freighter, both ships vital in important ways. Neither of them were what I would call a stereotypical representation of the types of shifters that generally filled the roles of pack Alpha and omega.
"Do you have any ideas about why this has happened?" Alpha Tyson asked. The more time I spent watching him, the less I thought about how he wasn't the usual shape of a leader, and the more time I concentrated on the ways he excelled. I doubted that his amiability was fabricated and recognized how his gentle approach kept Jazz calm and open.
"None. I mean, there's what happened to all those guys over there," Jazz said. "Is Hollister there with you?"
Alpha Tyson shook his head. "He's at the Walker house. He told me to tell you to call him when you can and asked why he hasn't gotten any baby pictures yet."
Jazz beamed. "I will. We're still…it's been an adjustment."
Alpha Tyson waved away Jazz's mounting regret before it could grow. "We understand. The blessed omegas had months to adjust to the idea while they were pregnant. It's life-changing and requires time to adapt and heal. I hope you'll keep us updated with any changes to you or baby. Dr. Tiff had only glowing things to say about your pack. I'd like for this friendship between our packs to last." He had a way of sounding so sincere all doubt or misgivings were obliterated.
I wouldn't be able to make my final decision on what I thought of the man until I sat in the same room with him. I needed to take in information from all of my senses to do that. But, for now, I liked him and his silent, mountainous omega.
We said our goodbyes, confirming Angus's well-baby checkup for the following Monday.
I closed the laptop, and Jazz spun around in my lap, straddling my hips. My cock lamented the loss of his warm heat but celebrated in this new position that opened so much more of Jazz to my touch.
"That wasn't so bad." He looped his arms around my neck, letting our faces rest close but not touching.
"He's an interesting Alpha."
The right side of Jazz's mouth lifted, a prelude to one of his easy smiles. "I like him. He's not like you or the other guys."
I snorted, making Jazz bounce. My dick liked that. "Thanks a lot."
"No, I don't mean it like that. I like the way you are. It's sexy."
I appreciated that he'd left the others out of that statement.
"He just seems like a good guy. I'd be glad if we became their friends, but I'll understand if you have a point of view I haven't thought of yet."
I rubbed my lips along his chin, stealing a kiss along the way.
Jazz's motions transformed, his limbs taking on the consistency of liquid and I lifted him at the hips, setting him back down against my lap while rubbing our erections together over our clothing. My little finger slipped beneath the waistband of his sweatpants and traced his hidden hipbone. When Jazz had first come to me, that bone had been less hidden, sticking out from a waist that had needed rest and healthy food. And putting a baby in there might have made a difference.
I had just enough selfish male pride to be pleased by that thought.
"You may continue, Jazz." At his inquisitive brow, I clarified, "Talking about how sexy you think I am."
His cheeks flushed sweetly, and he squeezed his arms while trying to hug his yawning face against my neck. I held him back with a hand on each shoulder and studied his face.
His lazy smile and drooping eyelids told me all I needed to know. Hearing how sexy I was would have to wait. "On second thought, it's about naptime for omegas."
"What?" he protested. "But I'm the only one here!"
I smirked. "Exactly."
Jazz tried to scramble away, and I gathered his limbs, holding his wrists in one hand behind his back. The position pushed his chest out, and he whimpered, clearly thinking I'd changed my mind, and we were once again on the road to nudity. I dropped a loud, smacking kiss at the button of his nose. "You need your rest. You heard Dr. Tiff."