My Jealous Alpha Stepbrother
Chapter 91

Josie

I’m not sure why I’m at the elder meeting. Probably because they all believe Misha to become the future alpha, and I’m his luna. That must be the reason I’m sitting by Misha’s side.

Silently, I look at him, and Misha smiles at me while some old werewolf speaks about the consequences of going to war against the Howler pack.

I’m barely listening, though.

It’s hard to focus when Misha peers down at me from heavy lids while looking all too sexy. It’s not fair that he got me all this riled up when he never seems to understand that I’m flirting with him.

“We should ask the Howler pack’s alpha to stop sucking the life force out of our females.” The old elder says.

Avery snorts. “And you think alpha Blaze would do that willingly, old man? You might have seen a lot from your time in the pack and being my dad’s counselor in the past, but trust me, that incubus hybrid won’t stop if we ask him nicely. He knows his pack is larger than ours—that’s why he is ending the life of our females. Blaze knows we don’t possess the means to stop him because his pack could easily defeat ours. This is why we need to ask for help from the vampires before we can even think about addressing the issue. I know it’s horrible to keep the cause of what is happening a secret from the pack members, but letting them know about Blaze could prove catastrophic. We don’t want a war, not yet. This is why pretending to be oblivious for a little longer is the right plan. Let Misha win the tournament, recruit the vampires, and then we address the issue. We will declare war against the Howler pack if they don’t hand over their alpha. Blaze should be put on trial, and honestly, he shouldn’t be allowed to be their alpha anymore.”

All the elders mumble and discuss around the oval-shaped table, and the old geezer who spoke first clears his throat. “Are we sure that we can trust them, my alpha? I know we, the elders, possess no power over your decisions—the Grimfang pack has always worked this way. But I still feel the need to warn you. Vampires are sly creatures, alpha. Trickery is their b***d, and only a fool would trust their mischievous personalities.”

“Trust me, I know how vampires can be,” humor flashes over Avery’s handsome face, and a few elders chuckle. “I’m part vampire myself—I know exactly how my kind can be,” he turns to Misha. “But my son, who most likely will be the future alpha if he wins against Blaze in the tournament, knows the vampires even better than me. And he has assured me that all my brother Damien and the other vampires want is a safe place to stay in our city. They are not interested in drinking from us, only to be accepted and live like normal people.”

The elders exchange glances and nod. Avery and Misha seem to be getting them on their side, and I stop listening again. Had I won against Misha, I would be deeper into politics, but I didn’t.

I’m a little sad over that fact, but I’m not too heartbroken. Misha is a good man; if I become his luna, maybe he will help my people? The lycans need to gain control of their shape-shifting. And I know Avery hasn’t been able to figure out how to help them, but… perhaps the answer lies with the vampires? They have incredible magic.

I ponder this, and I stay in my chair to watch the others leave when the meeting is finally over. Misha and Avery are discussing his training and developing a plan to train in an hour.

Then, once Misha agrees, Avery says he will go and cook dinner for his wife and the rest of our weird family. It does feel like we are one of the same… which is a bit strange. But meh… I like it.

I look up when Misha wanders to the chair next to mine. He is holding a yogurt bowl in one hand, and there is a spoon in his mouth. I lift an eyebrow at him, and his lips curl.

“What?” He asks, laughing. “Strawberry yogurt is my favorite.”

“Nothing wrong with the yogurt. I just thought Avery said he would cook food for us all.”

Misha taps his stomach. “I’m hungry, and dad’s food won’t be enough. I get handed bird portions, and that won’t do. I’m hungrier since my wolf awakened. It’s kind of disturbing, actually.”

I stare at him in utter disbelief, gaping at him. “What is disturbing is that your wolf is hungry, and you’re feeding it yogurt! It’s not a damn vegetarian, Misha!”

His eyes go round and wide. Shock paints his face, and I growl and get up from my seat. Irritated, I stroll over to the fridge and take out some eggs. Avery is using the kitchen downstairs, so I can make Misha a treat without being in his way.

“You cooking for me, Josie?”

“Yes, I am!” I glare at him. “Do you know why your wolf is craving so much food, Misha?”

He looks amused and lounges in the chair with eyes that are way too flirtatious for my liking. It’s making it hard to focus.

“No, but why don’t you enlighten me?”

“It’s because your body is getting ready for your first shape-shifting. Your muscles are craving protein to break and rebuild the bones in your body. Even though it’s magic, there is some sort of sense to it.”

“Magic needs protein?”

“I’m not sure how it works, okay?! I didn’t come up with the rules, and I sure don’t possess a werewolf bible. All I know is that an omelet will be better than you wolfing down a tiny a*s yogurt.”

“True…” Misha beams at me with a cat-like grin. “Can you make that like three omelets instead of just one?”

“Three omelets… are you f*****g kidding me?! MISHA! I’m not your mother, okay?!”

“No, you’re my mate, and you’re feeding me,” Misha has a dreamy expression on his face as he leans over the table. “I think I’m the luckiest man alive right now.”

His mischievous smile and the warmth in his eyes make it impossible to stay mad at him. I c***k a few more eggs and blush. “Three omelets coming up for Misha…”

“I could k**s you right now, you know that?”

My eyes narrow, and while I gather my hair in a sloppy muffin at the top of my head, I mutter, “Then why don’t you?”

That sentence is meant for my ears only. But Misha rises from his seat. At first, I think he is heading for the fridge, but then I feel his ginormous hands on my waist.

He strokes me up and down, squeezing my a*s a little. It makes the b***d spike in my veins, and suddenly it’s hard to focus on the eggs in the frying pan. Misha’s nose is my hair, and I prickle with awareness, shuddering because he is bent down to k**s my neck.

“I like it when your hair is up,” Misha murmurs and nips at my skin, carefully with his lips, no teeth.

My face burns. “I’m trying to cook food here…”

“Your point?” Misha’s large hand travels between my legs, cupping my mound and stroking me.

I almost give in and climb him like a tree at that. I want him, but he needs food—we both know he does, so he is just playing with me. This is a game, and I intend to win by resisting him.

“Your first two omelets are going to get burnt.”

He smiles against my neck at that. I can feel the ticklish sensation of his lips moving, and then there is a chuckle. “So if I picked you up and brought you over to the oval-shaped table…”

I turn tense, whispering, “No, you wouldn’t…” would he?! “That table is sacred. It’s where all the decisions are made.”

“Mhm, and it would feel so good knowing I’ve made the decision to eat you out right by it.”

“Oh my god, Misha, are you hearing yourself? You can’t just take me there! The elders eat their breakfast there and meet by that table every day! I meant what I said when I claimed the table is sacred!”

“Mhm, you know what else is sacred?” Misha whispers into my ear and continues to rub my p***y from the outside of my leggings. I know what he is getting at, but I won’t say it. I don’t have to. The word is out of his dirty mouth a second later. “Your cunt.”

Still, I’m shocked. I can’t believe he actually said it!

“We can skip the omelet,” Misha says seductively. “Instead, I can lift you up on the table, spread your legs, and eat you out until your juices are all over my face. I like it messy, Josie, and you smell so damn nice. Sweet. Lovely. I can’t wait to taste you.”

Yearning floods my underwear, but I know what needs to be done—I clench my legs together and lift my eyes. Misha, the tall bastard, grins at me. He is very aware of how wet he has made me, and I take a deep calming breath.

… which does nothing to calm me.

I’m pissed off when I open my mouth. “Misha… go and sit by the table before I murder you.”

There must be something in my voice because he winces and actually backs off, looking scared. “Yes, ma’am…”

“And don’t flirt with me until tonight.”

“No flirting at all?!” Misha sounds devastated.

Honestly, I’m sad too, but his training is more important than s*x. I must be the responsible grownup between us to steer him in the right direction, which is why I keep the cold tone. “Do you want to live?”

Misha inhales, seeming to think hard before finally answering. “Yes…”

“Then you know the answer to that.”

Satisfaction barrels through me when Misha creates some distance between us. He might have won that duel against me, but it’s clear who is the boss here—me. I made him shiver in his boxers, and we both know it.

I can’t believe the rest of the pack fears him…

Scary alpha, my a*s.

I add some spices to the omelets while talking. “Food will be ready in five minutes, and you better not be planning on eating with your hands like an animal. Set the table for us, will you?”

Misha audibly gulps and moves over to the cabinet. He is searching for glasses for us. “Yes, my love…”

“What was that?!” I ask while flipping the omelet. I’m not even looking at Misha, but I can feel him shuddering in fear.

“Ma-am…”

I smile. “That’s more like it.”