His Little Runt

Chapter 3

Caden

Sweat drips from my hair, little rivulets falling on my brow and sliding down my nose. The heat is almost unbearable out here, and the aggressive punches I throw definitely aren't helping.

"This is, like, years worth of pent up anger," my beta, Marcel, says, "What happened?"

His body jerks at the next set of punches I throw at the pads, and when I go to start again he puts them down, halting my aggressive swings.

"I know you're not the talkative type, but I don't think my brain can handle anymore earthquakes today, so have it out," Marcel says, gesturing at me.

I rest my hands on my knees, panting, trying to stall while simultaneously brainstorming topics I could give him.

My situation with Alairia isn't pack known. I tell people I'm close with, and Marcel is one of those people, but I don't exactly enjoy having conversations about my mate that refuses to complete our bond.

"I'm just tired. Meetings have been a lot this week," I explain, my hope latching onto my shoulders with claws of steel.

He gives a humourless huff. "Bullshit. Is it Alairia? I thought you said you were gonna stop trying with her?"

I only said that to shut him up, and even the implication of not talking to her makes my heart pulse, my wolf growling low in my ears.

"She's my mate," I grit out. "The only way I will ever stop trying with her is if by some unexplainable cause she happens to fall off the face of the earth. Even then I'd probably still jump down after her."

I walk over to one of the benches before sitting and starting to unwrap my hands, the cool air a welcome relief from the restrictive cloth.

"You are delusional, and I can't say I don't admire you for it," Marcel says, chuckling low as he sits beside me. "I don't think any man has as much perseverance as you do."

I look sideways at him. "Are you calling me better than you? Finally?"

He shoves my face away. "Only in your dreams, Dell. I'm simply saying that you have determination, and I think it's cool that you're not giving up."

I touch my heart, making my lips quiver as I say, "Wow, Marcy, I didn't think you were so sentimental."

He pokes my forehead with his middle finger before standing up. "So what are you doing to win her affection? Besides pining aimlessly every day."

A flush starts to creep up my neck, but I will it away as I mutter, "It's not aimless, and I wouldn't call it pining. I just talk to her. And I don't need your relationship advice, you loner."

He laughs, and I swear the sound of it is judgmental. "You need to do more than just talk, and that creepy stalking stunt you have going on? That's gotta go."

I whip my head up so fast that the world blurs for a second. "How did you know about that?"

He smirks. "I have my ways."

I laugh softly under my breath. Oh Molly. Despite loving secrets, she couldn't keep one to save her life.

"Interrogating little girls for information is below you, Marcy," I scold, my tone mocking seriousness.

He shrugs, amusement doting his eyes. "What can I say? A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do."

Realization suddenly dawns and I curse quietly, practically ripping the rest of the wrapping off and standing way too fast.

"Whoa," Marcel says, pushing lightly on my chest. "You just got really close really fast. This bromance is nice and all but I have-"

"I forgot to go see Molly this morning," I say hurriedly, rushing past him.