Master Frown X Brock Novels & Stories

“You owe me fifty bucks.” What the fuck? These guys were betting on us? I don’t have time to process those questions, though, because instead I’m questioning why the hell Brock looks so salty in response to our news. His eyes darken, his lips twisting into a scowl- and then I see him work to steady his expression and plaster on a lopsided fake smile instead. “Congratulations, guys,” he grits out. “That’s great news, I’m happy for you.”

I asked quietly, not really wanting to go into that closet with anyone, least of all my older brother's best friend, who is an asshole man whore. “I could go in with you,” the boy named Jeremy said and smirked. “I'll make it good for you, beautiful.” “Um-” I started to say something, but Sean was close to losing his shit over what I don't even know. “I will beat your fucking ass if you touch her,” Sean snarled and took a threatening step towards the boy who now looked scared for his life.

A grin creeps across Jax’s face. “Ahh, I get it,” he chuckles. “Go on, loverboy.” I deliver a playful jab to his arm, a little harder than I intend to. “Aren’t we going to debrief?” Brock asks, furrowing his brow. All business. I breathe a heavy sigh, scrubbing my hand over my face. “Later?” Brock doesn’t look pleased, but he nods.

Brock says, walking up to my locker, and I frown. “Nah,” I say, not really interested in making conversation with this asshole. He cocks his head and points towards the door. “The faggot.” As soon as he says this, my head whips back, and I look straight into Liam’s bruised face. The swelling around his eyes has gone down, but the bruising around his nose and eyes will still be there for a while. He looks straight ahead as he walks with a pained expression on his face. No matter how many pain pills you take, a broken rib still hurts like a motherfucker.

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Brooke, seeing the rogue man’s slow procrastination and apparently itching for some violent drama in her soul, marches forward in her high leather boots and yanks my hair hard, dragging my whole frame right back to the center. “What exactly is the matter with your useless body? Can't your claws get it up for one single rogue boy?!” She looks up toward the entry and signals sharply to the other two fighters standing by the door framework. “You two, get your boots over here right now. My heart is feeling super generous today! Here is a pretty wolf for your bodies to have some fun with! Help yourselves!” Brooke is so completely focused on speaking her mean words that my mouth takes the instant

It’s not friendly sparring, it feels like he is trying to kill me. I punch him in the side a few times then roll him so that I am on top. He continues to try to struggle under me trying to gain the upper hand. I don’t understand I thought this is what he would want me marking Ireland. “What the fuck is wrong with you Jackson? I am your Alpha!”

Then he beamed. His lips stretched into a smile that made my heart skip a beat. “Then I would be Killan.” He clapped, trying to lean towards me again, but I pointed at the small gap between us, sighing out loud. “If I'm really your master, you follow my rules, okay?” He nodded obediently. “Yes, Master.” But he still stepped closer and caressed my cheeks, his touch like a burning flame against my skin. “But you sure smell good, Master.”

"I’m in my masters for the same. My brother Daryl mentioned it. Said you were sharp." A small smile tugged at his full lips as he met my gaze, and it made him even more striking. Not the cold mafia heir I'd built up in my nightmares. Just a normal guy on a date with a girl who was still fantasizing about another guy. "He’s not wrong," I said, finding a sliver of my own confidence. "I am sharp. And you? Are you?" "Trying to be." He shrugged. "It’s a grind. But you know that. Where are you in your rotations?"

“I had another memory. A nightmare, to be more precise. I’m not sure anymore where the line is between remembering and dreaming.” I sat down beside him, close enough that our shoulders touched. “Tell me.” He took a shaky breath. “There was a man. I’ve been seeing flashes of him for days, but tonight it was clear. His name is Kieran. Dark hair, amber eyes, this playful smile that made everything feel less serious.” His voice softened with affection. “He was my beta. My best friend. My brother in every way that mattered.” “Your beta?” “It’s a pack thing. A beta is the alpha’s second, their right hand. The person who stands beside you when everyone else stands behind you.” Frost’s hands unclenc