Dylan swallowed, wondering what John was talking about. “What do you mean?”
“Marcus is not the alpha of this pack. I am.” The calm statement was followed by an explosion of violence. John threw the bottle of water at the wall over the sink where Dylan was standing, cracking the tile and sending water flying everywhere. He pointed at Dylan, lips pulled back in a snarl as he stomped toward him. “I will not be managed like some unstable toddler!”
Dylan threw himself out of John’s path, landing on his hands and knees and scrambling to get up and run away. Before he could get back to his feet, John grabbed him by the back of his shirt and lifted him off the floor.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” John said, his voice contemptuous. He lowered Dylan to his feet and held him until he was sure he was steady, then gave him a small shake. “Stop being such a baby.”
He wiped a drop of water off Dylan’s forehead, his hands rough.
“You’re scaring me,” Dylan said, pulling away and out of reach as soon as John took his hands away. He looked at the floor, flinching when John moved forward and his boots came into view.
“I told you not to be scared of me,” John growled, closing the distance that Dylan had put between them. Dylan stared at his boots and then lifted his gaze so that he wouldn’t have to look at the intimidatingly large bulge that was suddenly right in his line of sight. John grabbed him by the side of his neck, squeezing down and rubbing his thumb over Dylan’s collar bone. “I can have a bit of a temper, but I don’t hurt members of my pack. I never have and I never will.”
Dylan wanted John to stop touching him, but he did not get his wish. Instead, the awful alpha pulled him forward and wrapped him up in a rough hug, squeezing him tight against his chest and making every muscle in Dylan’s body tense up in fear.
It was like an evil mirror version of being hugged by his mates. The tight squeeze of John’s arms was oppressive and too tight, and if Dylan went the rest of his life without knowing what John’s bulge felt like pressing into his stomach, he could die happy.
“Relax,” John said, laughing and rubbing his back. “You’re so tense.”
There was no way that Dylan was going to relax.
“I can’t have the pack thinking that Marcus can manage me,” John said, almost like an apology. He stepped back, grabbing Dylan by his shoulders and looking down at his face. “I understand why he feels the need to try, but I have to make a stand. You understand, right?”
Dylan did not understand.
“What do you mean?” Dylan asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He closed his eyes so that he wouldn’t have to look at John’s pecs or the sharp line of his jaw.
John stroked his cheek, cupping the side of Dylan’s face in his hand and stroking his thumb over his chin.
“I’m going to keep you and your mates here, in the main territory, and send someone else to manage Fort Plainslac,” John said, moving his thumb up until he was almost touching Dylan’s bottom lip. “Sterling will make a good second, and it will be good for Marcus to have his brothers here. He needs them.”
“Maybe you could talk to Marcus and Ryker about this?” Dylan said, opening his eyes and flinching at the heated look John was sending him. “I don’t think I’m the one you should be talking to.”
John tilted his head, his mouth widening in what Dylan was sure some people would consider a charming grin.
“I think I need to teach Marcus and Sterling a lesson.” He moved his thumb up to Dylan’s mouth. “Don’t you?”
Dylan shook his head, moving his face to the side when John tried to push his thumb into his mouth.
What the fuck was he doing?
Dylan’s legs trembled, and if he hadn’t been leaning against the counter, he was sure he would have crumpled to the floor out of sheer anxious fright.
“You like alphas, right?” John said, moving his thumb over and forcing Dylan’s lips apart, rubbing over his clenched teeth.
Dylan shoved at John’s stomach with all his might, making a desperate and entirely spur of the moment escape attempt, but John didn’t so much as budge. He laughed and then took a step forward so that he could press his bulge into Dylan’s stomach, trapping him between his body and the counter.
“Let me go!” Dylan demanded, pushing on John’s chest and trying to move him. “I don’t want this!”
“I’m not going to hurt you,” John said, trying to pry Dylan’s teeth apart. “But I think that making you my omega will be an appropriate punishment for Marcus and Sterling for trying to manipulate me.”
“That’s insane,” Dylan grunted, lifting his leg and trying to knee John in the balls. He managed to get him in the side of his thigh, but John acted like he didn’t even notice.
“It’s not insane,” John said, grinding his bulge into Dylan’s stomach. “You’ll like being my omega. I’ll teach you all sorts of tricks.”
“This isn’t funny,” Dylan said, turning his head and trying to wriggle away from John’s body. “You’re Steve’s dad!”
“Steve was always good at sharing his toys,” John said. He reached down and undid his belt, and Dylan went into full blown panic mode. He leaned back, trying to crawl up on the counter if he couldn’t get away by moving to the side, when he spotted his cup of water from the microwave.
