The Omega Queen

Four

Alexander wrinkled his nose as he sipped his drink. The gathering was as dull as predicted, and the alcohol was not to his standard either. Surely, they could have procured better fare. Or maybe he was being too picky. After all, his position allowed him to acquire the finest food and drink from anywhere.

“Hello, your Majesty,” a young woman shyly smiled as she curtsied in her rather opulent gown. “I hope you are enjoying your evening.”

Alexander sighed, “Your father put you up to this, yes?”

“…I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Or maybe it is an uncle, cousin perhaps, and they have already tried to foist their other close relatives on me. So, which is it?”

“…I don’t…”

“Don’t play dumb,” Alexander glared at her. “You knew the moment you set foot in this venue I wasn’t your mate. Yet you chose to approach me anyway. A few years ago, I might have taken advantage and indulged myself for a night just to stave off boredom, but that is all that would have happened. You would have returned to your pack with your tail between your legs utterly humiliated, and I wouldn’t have cared in the slightest. You should be grateful I gave up on such pastimes.”

Alexander stepped away.

“Wait, your Majesty, I—”

She froze as he glared at her over his shoulder. His gaze glowed amber as his wolf pushed to the surface. The air seemed to grow thicker, and it became hard for her to breathe. A pressure weighed down on her until she almost seemed to shrink.

“Begone, while you can still walk, welp,” Alexander said in a voice far deeper and hoarser than before.

With a yelp, she scurried off. Growling, Alexander’s eyes returned to normal and his aura subsided. He pinched the bridge of his nose as if staving off a headache.

‘Was that really necessary, Argo?’

‘The pup needed to be put in her place. Don’t think I don’t know the thoughts that flitted through your mind when she first approached us.’

‘You can’t condemn me for my thoughts. Any man would have entertained a thought or two.’

‘And then you would have abandoned her, tossed her aside like a used tissue. What honor is there in that?’

‘She’s the one selling her body for a little prestige. You call that honorable?’

‘You are supposed to be the better example. You are the King, not some horny princeling unwilling to control his urges.’

‘You are never going to let me live down my youth, are you?’

‘I want my Mate,’ Argo retreated to the back of his mind.

Alexander ran a hand through his auburn hair. He was thirty-five and stood at the pinnacle of the werewolf world. Not only was he the alpha of the Winter Moon pack, but he was the king. It was his great-grandfather who led the first immigrants across the ocean to the Americas, allowing their kind to grow and expand at an exponential rate.

His great-grandfather had been subject to quite a few rumors and critics for such a move. However, their territories in Europe and Asia had become increasingly crowded. They had less open land than a pack required, let alone several packs. It only made sense to expand. They had some success spreading through Asia, where the cooler climate was to their liking.

Moving into the Middle East and Africa was less optimal as they were not well adapted to the desert or jungle climates. Setting out across the ocean just made logical sense. Imagine their surprise when they arrived in the New World only to discover they weren’t the first werewolves to set foot in this so-called untouched land.

Thousands of years earlier, ancient packs followed the human migration across the Berring Strait and moved into the Americas. They lived side-by-side with the human tribes, integrating with their culture and building a shared history and identity. The newly arrived European packs dubbed them wendigos, a word taken from the indigenous tribes.[1]

They had only wanted to expand their territories, but they soon found themselves in conflict with the packs that had already laid claim to the land. At times, these conflicts turned bloody. Though the wendigos had the advantage of knowing their surroundings, the invading European wolves were larger and generally stronger. The results of the conflict were nearly guaranteed.

Soon after, the European packs expanded throughout the Americas and thrived like never before. That was how his great-grandfather earned the title of King of Werewolves, a title that had now been passed to him.

Alexander hated to admit it, but in his younger days, he had not always acted as distinguished as his title demanded. He had gone through his rebellious phase like any other young pup whose shoulders were too narrow for the responsibilities foisted upon them. Like many, he relieved his frustrations through extracurricular activities that were not approved of by his wolf or his parents. He was arrogant enough to think himself untouchable, especially from petty scandals.

But eventually, those activities lost their appeal. His parents were true mates, and he found himself longing for the kind of bond they shared. During the days it was easier to ignore the loneliness that consumed his nights. He buried it under duties and paperwork, as well as training and, on occasion, war.

Not only was there still conflict with wendigo packs who refused to acknowledge his authority and a growing population of rogues, there were also disagreements between packs and more than once he had to intervene. It was all so tiresome. Surely, other packs should be able to negotiate their own issues, but they insisted he mediate for them. Alexander had to walk a knife’s edge each time to be sure he didn’t exude favor over one party versus the other.

Since he was unmated, more were shoving their daughters, nieces and any other female relative they could into his path. All hoped he would find his mate with one of them or, at the very least, that he would take them as a chosen mate. But that wasn’t the bond he wanted, the one his wolf longed for. They wanted their one true mate, the one whose soul was created as their perfect match. Surely, the Moon Goddess wouldn’t have forgotten them.

“So, what was that just now?” a male wolf asked as he approached without the subservience of the others.

They had known each other far too long for that. Darker in complexion with tightly-cropped hair, Nathan was his beta and had been raised by Alexander’s own mother after the rogues took the lives of his parents. Because of this, they viewed each other as brothers. There was no one Alexander trusted more, certainly no other he could confide in.

“Nothing, just the usual gnats buzzing around,” Alexander said.

“You sure? It seemed your wolf was doing most of the talking,” Nathan commented. “She must have gotten under your skin.”

“Is it too much to ask them to conduct themselves with more propriety?”

“Right.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Nathan sighed. “You can hardly blame them since you keep that mistress of yours around.”

“Mistress? You mean Carmen? She’s nothing, just a scratching post when I have an itch.”

“Nothing, huh? You haven’t kept any she-wolf at your side half as long as her.”

“She’s not at my side,” Alexander sneered. “She’s there when I need to work out some frustration, nothing more. She knows the score.”

“Is that what you think?” Nathan asked. “You really think she’s going to step aside when you find your mate?”

“Of course. What else could she do? It’s not her title to covet in the first place.”

“If you say so,” Nathan sighed.

Recently, the she-wolf in question had been acting far more arrogant and demanding. So far, she had only bullied a few of the lower-ranked she-wolves and hadn’t interfered with the workings of the pack. Because of that, it seemed Alexander hadn’t yet noticed. He rarely mingled with the lower ranks since his focus was on the pack’s borders and security. Soon enough, Carmen would overstep her place and find out just how little Alexander truly thought of her. Nathan would be more than happy to grab a bowl of popcorn to watch while Alexander finally dealt with the b***h.

“We’re leaving tomorrow, yes?” Alexander asked.

“All arrangements have been made,” Nathan agreed. “Since the conference is almost over and the wendigo packs are a no-show again, your presence is not necessary. If we leave first thing in the morning, we should be able to get out without much hassle.”

“Good. I’ve had enough of this place,” Alexander looked over the bright neon lights of the city.

He didn’t know why such conferences were always held in such large cities, especially ones like Las Vegas. His own pack was situated in northern Quebec, far from any large human habitations. It was quieter and at night he had a clear view of the starry skies. Large cities always gave him a headache. Once he got home, he would be able to relax.