TYLER'S POV
For the first time since forever, Alpha Xander wasn't drunk. He wasn't passed out on the floor surrounding by empty beer bottles, nor was he wailing like a madman about this traitor and that backstabber he would rain hell upon.
No, far from it. He stood dead center of the courtyard where his disgruntled pack members had gathered a few hours ago, bathed in the moonlight. Though he'd washed off the blood, he still remained barechested and rugged, a lion ready to pounce any second.
Almost as if he waited for something to happen. Or for someone to strike.
Tyler took all this in as he stalked into the courtyard. His eyes pinned on his father's broad, tattooed back.
Xander chuckled but didn't turn around. "I knew you would come for me." His voice was a few steps away from being completely unhinged.
Tyler halted, allowing some space between them. "How did you know?"
