My Son Calls His Father Alpha Now Novels & Stories

my father stated, staring at us as his eyes traveled from me to Garret and back to me. “We are strong too, father; we won’t disappoint you,” I said reassuringly. “I am sure you won’t, so get ready to take on the responsibility of being a leader—the responsibility of putting the pack’s interests and safety above your own,” my father stated. “Alpha, did you know the name of that young man who is the alpha now?” Garret mouthed the question silently, eager to know more about the said Alpha. “Yeah, I know his name. He bears emm,” my father tried to recall, scratching on his disheveled hair. “Yes, he is Tristan Logan,” my father recalled.

“Handle your old man or I’ll rip his head off!” “Alaric,” the elder said, dropping all titles. Father howled in fury, baring his teeth. “It’s Alpha to you!” “Alpha?” the old man sneered. “We both know how you became Alpha.” Father stumbled back, a flicker of fear in his eyes.

my dad said trying to comfort me. "I am starting to give up hope, Dad. What if we are not able to find her, ever?" I ask him at the edge of breaking down in front of him. "Don't say that, if you give up like that, then who will find her?" my dad scolded me using an alpha tone. "We are alpha Cole and not just the Alpha of any pack, we are the alpha's of pure blood, we can do better than this, so stop being so depressed and wear your alpha pants on," Dad said using his alpha tone and I nodded my head with a forced smile on my face.

It wasn't that. Was it? Father. He was my father, right? Because he called me son. Son meant I was biologically related to him, right? I read that online. I wasn't sure. I really wasn't sure. He no longer breathed. His eyes shut. And then I was pronounced Alpha. Yes, I was able to fight for the pack. I won the battle, blood was everywhere but I won. I was crowned Alpha. Everyone cheered and then she smiled, the old woman, she said she got what she wanted. I was Alpha. Her son was Alpha. She called me son, right?

“I’m NOT done talking about this. You’ve been keeping secrets from me, important ones by the sounds of it. I demand to know…” “You DEMAND?” my father shouted. “You don’t get to DEMAND anything from me. I’m your FATHER, or have you forgotten?” He flashed his wolf eyes. “I think we all need to take a moment to settle down,” my mother interjected. But both my father and I were furious at this point. “And I’m the ALPHA,” I shot back at him. “Or have YOU forgotten?”

My son walked in, his stature easily hidden by the counter. I bent at once, holding his arms and whispering. “Honey, I asked you to stay put. Why did you come out?” “Daddy,” he mouthed, his eyes sharp and clear. I narrowed my eyes, fear inching towards me slowly. “What did you say? ” “Daddy has just been made an Alpha.”

But I’d learned not to care. Then I saw someone else. A small boy, no older than six, curled in the corner. He flinched when I looked at him. “What are you in for?” I asked. He didn’t answer. “I don’t bite,” I said, sitting down beside him. “My dad’s coming to get me,” he whispered. “Who’s your dad?” “The Alpha,” he said quietly. I blinked. “Oh. So you’re the forgotten son.” He looked up at me, wounded.

"I made mistakes. I'll do better." "Will you?" He laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Because from where I stand, all I see is a boy who thinks his position is guaranteed. Who believes he can do whatever he wants without consequences." Fear coiled in my gut. "Let me make something very clear, Caleb." Father rounded the desk, standing directly in front of me. "If you think you are destined to be the next Alpha simply because I adopted you, you are wrong." The blood drained from my face.

Zayn took their hands with a polite, effortless smile that didn’t reach his cold eyes. “It is so good to finally meet you, Alpha…” my mother choked out, her voice trembling with excitement. “Yes, yes, Alpha! This is a massive privilege, a true honor,” Dad added, nodding so fervently I thought his head might fall off. “Zayn,” he corrected, his voice a smooth, low tone. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, making my heart stutter. “Call me Zayn. After all, we’ll soon be related, won’t we?”

He was married to me before a raid that he survived, and he has been writing to Finn every week for five years, and Finn knows his father's handwriting before he knew how to read it, which is the specific detail that produces the quality of ache that parenting at distance produces. "Papa says Uncle Callum is the best Alpha London's ever had," Finn says that evening, at dinner, in the specific tone of a seven-year-old reporting information he has processed and which he considers settled. He says it while eating, which is the way he does most things, which is simultaneously. "But the elders say I should be Alpha instead." I look at him across the table. "What do you think about that?" "I don't