Wanted by the Alpha King's Son

Chapter 6.

Shaun's POV.

I rush out of the pizzaria, running both my hands through my long hair.

The fresh, evening air feels good on my face. It calms me down a little.

I absolutely hate the idea of Emma having to marry someone as awful as my father. He'll never know what he has in her. He'll never treat her the way that she deserves to be treated.

He will never love her like I do.

I have been wracking my brain the last couple of days, trying to come up with a way of getting Emma freed from my father and exposing him for who he truly is.

Emma deserves better, the pack deserves better, I deserve better.

So far, I have come up with nothing and it annoys the hell out of me.

They will be married in a month. That will make it all the more complicated. My father won't wait long before showing his true colors after their married.

I start heading back home, really pissed at myself, because I left without my pizza and I'm starving. I'll have to grab something at home now.

I just couldn't bare to be around Emma anymore. It takes every ounce of strenght I have, not to take her in my arms and kiss her.

It's getting more and more difficult to resist her.

Why am I drawn to her in such a powerful way?

At least I'll be home alone tonight. My father is having his bachelor party at the gentleman's club. I can only imagine what him and his sleezy friends will be getting up to there.

His last night as a free agent.

I scoff loudly as I unlock the front door.

As if being a married man will stop him from fooling around.

He fooled around on my mother till the day she died. He'll do the exact same thing to poor Emma. He does it because he thinks it's his right as Alpha, as a man. He thinks he deserves it.

He'll kill Emma if she's not loyal to him, of course, but those same rules don't apply to him.

I head into the kitchen and start making myself a sandwich.

Whoever came up with this stupid tradition anyways? Probably some old fart that couldn't get a girl on his own.

If things were different, if I could have had more time with Emma, if she could have gotten to know me, we could have fallen in love naturally and I could have made her happy. I would have taken care of her. Always.

I slam the jar of mustartd down on the counter top, out of pure frustration.

"Everything all right, mister Shaun?"

I look up to see Stanley, our Butler, standing in the kitchen door, watching me.

Stanley has been with us for almost twenty years. I know that he adored my mother and he took her death very hard. Stanley is a kind man and he has been more of a father to me than Joseph ever has.

Stanley also knows the real Joseph, but he is a loyal wolf and a loyal employee.

I smile at him. "Yea Stan. Just pissed at my father again."

Stanley chuckels and enters the kitchen. Taking a seat at the counter where I'm makimg my sandwich.

"So, nothing new then, mister Shaun?"

I laugh inspite of myself. I am happy to have Stanley around. He makes this house feel like more of a home to me.

We're both quiet for a while before Stanley speaks again.

"The truth will come out, mister Shaun. Perhaps sooner than we think. Light always truimphs over darkness."

He has a weak smile on his face as he says this. His age is showing. Stanley must be in his late 70's by now. I don't even want to think about Stanley not being around anymore.

"We must be patient, mister Shaun."

He reaches over the table and gives my hand a soft pat.

"Yea, I know Stan. Patience is something that I've been struggling with lately."

I sigh heavily and give up on my attempt at making a sandwich. I can't seem to focus.

I take a seat next to Stanley and put my hands in my hair.

"Because of the girl?" Stanley asks with a smile, standing up to finish the sandwich that I started.

Stanley knew everything about me. He knew me better than my own father did. I told him everything. I trust him with my life.

"Yes Stan, because of the girl."

Stanley carries on talking without looking at me.

"Hmmm, it will be difficult for you, seeing them together, sharing this house with them, mister Shaun."

Stanley pushes the finished sandwich over to me and starts putting away the ingredients.

I accept the sandwich and start eating. It always tastes better when Stanley makes it. Definitely better than a pizza.

"Tell me about it Stan. What am I going to do?"

"What you always do mister Shaun. You will be strong and you will persevere. Be a friend to Emma, you know that she will need one. And when the time comes, perhaps you will be more."

Stanley hands me a glass of milk.

"Now, if there is nothing else, mister Shaun, I'm off to bed. Sleep well."

He gives my hand another pat as he passes by.

"Sleep well Stan."

After finishing my sandwich and milk, I head to the tv room and put on the football match.

I start to drift off to sleep.

A few hours later I am woken up by my father making a loud ruckus, coming in the back door.

I get up and walk into the kitchen. He is leaning against the counter, barely able to stand. I check the clock on the oven. It's almost four o' clock in the morning.

'Jesus dad. What are you trying to do? Break down the door?"

He notices me, standing in the door. He straightens up and tries to compose himself.

"Sorry my boy. I lost my key."

I shake my head at him and turn to walk away, but he stops me.

"Wait Shaun, we have to talk."

"Can it wait till your sobre?"

"I am sobre enough. We will talk now."

I sigh heavily and turn to face him again. I don't want him making a scene and waking Stanley up.

"So talk."

He takes a seat at the counter. He takes a few deep breaths to steady himself.

What does anybody see in a man like this? It's pathetic really.

"You'll be making a toast at the rehersal dinner and you'll also be my best man at the wedding."

He hiccups ons his last word.

"The f**k I will. Have you gone mad?"

I feel outraged. Why on earth would I do any of those things? I don't even want to be at either of those events nevermind toasting my father and his teenage bride or standing next to him when he marries the woman I love.

My father seems shocked at my answer. Must be all the alcohol. He knows exactly how I feel about him.

"You know, very well, that I do not agree with this crazy tradition. You also know, very well, how I feel about you. You have lost your mind dad."

"Enough!" Joseph slams his fist on the counter. He tries to get up, but he stumbles and sits back down on the chair.

I smirk at him. He really is a sorry excuse for a human-being.

He tries again and takes it slower, this time managing to get to his feet. He has to hold on to the counter to stay upright though.

He takes another steadying breath before he speaks. His eyes are having a hard time focusing on me.

"I am the man of this house! I am the Alpha King of this pack! You will do as you're told!"

The force of his screaming throws him off balance again and he falls back into the chair, only barely managing to stay in it.

Rage starts to boil inside me. I have to restrain myself from walking over to him and knocking him off of that chair.

Where does he get off, barking orders at me? He can't even stand on his own two feet, out all night partying like a child.

I shake my head at him and try to calm myself. When I speak, my voice is even and calm.

"You are a pathetic drunk, a loser. I don't take my orders from you. And if you keep this up, soon, nobody else will either."

He looks up at me in surprise.

Without waiting for him to respond, I turn around and walk out of the kitchen, leaving him there alone.