Parking his car in the Brand family driveway, Peter walked up to the front door and rang the bell.
There was a pause of about ten seconds before the door opened, and a middle-aged beta stared up at him.
It was obvious he was Chad’s father. They had the same open face, though Chad’s cheekbones were sharper and his jaw was more pronounced. He had blond hair, lighter than Chad’s, which he’d combed back in a style that was ten years out of date.
“You must be Peter Tank.” The words were said without any inflection. Peter narrowed his eyes, baffled by how threatened he felt by this unassuming beta. The man had a claim to Chad that Peter could never encroach on, and he hated it.
“I am.” Peter spoke the words with as much alpha authority and arrogance as he could muster. Chad’s father’s lip curled up in a bleak smile.
“You’re exactly what I pictured,” he said, leaving Peter feeling confused and off balance. “I guess you’re going to want to come in?”
Peter nodded.
“I don’t like you, by the way,” Chad’s father said, closing the door behind him. “Not from what Chad’s told me, or from what I’ve read about you.”
Peter didn’t know quite what to say about that. When he was younger he would have automatically ripped the man’s throat out for daring to speak to him with such disrespect, but it was a long time since Peter had been so out of control.
Chad was lucky he hadn’t known Peter when he was in his twenties. If Peter had felt the kind of want he felt for Chad then, he would have taken him without giving a fuck what Chad felt about it.
Peter took a step forward and backed his mate’s father up against the wall, baring his teeth in a silent snarl. When in doubt, intimidation was always the best answer.
“Watch it, beta,” he growled, his voice low and mean.
Chad’s father looked down, but there wasn’t much submission in it. Peter stepped back, satisfied that he had put the beta in his place.
“Where is Chad?” he asked, looking around the hallway. There were pictures of Chad growing up everywhere, and Peter almost smiled at the one of Chad as a teenager towering over his beta parents.
“He’s sleeping,” Chad’s father said. “He had a long flight. Why don’t you come into the kitchen to meet my wife?”
Peter was about to decline, but Chad’s father just walked around him and left him no choice but to make a scene or follow. For a second he debated just using his nose and hunting Chad downby his scent, but he was curious to see if Chad’s mother was as odd as his father.
It would explain so much.
“Sweetheart? We have a guest!” Chad’s father called out.
“Who is it?” a woman’s voice answered. Peter and Chad’s father walked into the kitchen, and a small beta woman froze at the sight of them.
She had Chad’s eyes.
“Sweetheart, this is Peter Tank, Chad’s mate. Peter, this is my wife Martha.”
Peter walked forward and held out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Martha.”
Martha shook his hand, her grip firm for a beta.
“And your name?” Peter asked, turning to Chad’s father.
“You mean Chad never told you?” the man asked.
“No.” Peter let his displeasure be known. He was reaching his limit with the impudent beta, and Chad’s father or no, if he kept pushing Peter would deal with him.
“I’m John.”
“We were surprised when Chad called to say he was coming to visit,” Martha said, looking between Peter and her husband. “Is everything all right between the two of you?”
Peter stared at her, wondering where she got the nerve to probe like that. Then again, maybe that’s just how betas were.
“I’m sure we’ll work it out,” Peter said after a brief pause. He hoped it was true.
