The First Warrior Wolf

*Chapter 9: Claiming Ground*

_Narrator POV_

The air in the Alpha suite went viscous.

One second, sunlight cut through the floor-to-ceiling windows, glinting off the half-eaten breakfast and the cold cupcake from earlier. The suite was empty except for them. No pack. No witnesses.

The next second: it broke.

The door was barely closed before Allison Mist was off her feet.

Alpha Shaquil of the Silver Fang Pack hauled her into his arms like she weighed nothing, laughing as he spun her once. Her high ponytail of wild curls whipped out behind her.

“There’s my Tigress,” Shaquil rumbled. “Birthday girl. Look at you, all grown up and still causing trouble.”

He set her down, but his hands didn’t leave her waist. Five years of history said they belonged there.

That’s when it hit.

A growl ripped through the suite. Low. Guttural. _Lethal_.

It rolled from behind them, vibrating the crystal on the table, making the candle on Allison’s cupcake flicker and die. Alex Mist stood at the table, chair knocked back. His hands were braced on the wood, claws already half-shifted, carving thin lines into the oak. His eyes weren’t storm-gray anymore. They were molten gold, ringed with black.

_Alaric._

Shaquil didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. If anything, his grin went sharper.

And Allison didn’t step away.

Instead, both of them turned. Slow. Deliberate.

Two sets of eyebrows, raised in perfect, synchronized disbelief.

Alex shoved the wolf down. His claws retracted with a wince, eyes bleeding back to storm-gray. When he spoke, it was all man. No gravel. Just Alex Mist, shoving himself between them, chest brushing Allison’s shoulder as he backed Shaquille toward the wall.

“Who the hell are you?”

The question was ice. Human. Territorial.

Allison scoffed. Loud. “Seriously?” She rolled her eyes and shoved at Shaquil’s chest, but not hard. “Okay, boys. Calm down.”

She grabbed Shaquil by the wrist and tugged him toward the table. “Shakes, come sit. We were having lunch. You can join us.”

Shaquil let her pull him, though his amber eyes never left Alex’s. As he moved, he set a woven basket on the table with a soft thunk_.

“Oh shakes a puppy, you remembered. His precious thank you!” Allison exclaimed before doing intoductions.

“Shakes, this is Alex Mist,” Allison said, not looking at Alex as she yanked out a chair for Shaquil. “Alex, this is Shaquil. Alpha of the Silver Fang Pack, Jessy’s brother, and my friend.”

“Friend,” Alex echoed. The word was broken glass.

His gaze dropped to the basket. Inside, curled up on a soft gray blanket, was a wolf pup. Not a shifter. A wild wolf pup, maybe six weeks old. Silver-gray fur, oversized paws, and eyes the exact blue of a winter sky.

Alex went still. Then his jaw ticked. “If you want a pup,” he said, and his voice was too calm. Too human. “I can give you one. You don’t need a pet.”

Allison shot him a glare that could have melted silver. “Are you serious right now?”

Allison laughed. Real. Happy. “I’m naming him Storm.”

Shaquil’s eyes went soft. “Fitting.”

Alex’s jaw ticked. “We’re not keeping it.”

Allison didn’t even look up. “We are. Deal with it, Mist.”

The pup sneezed. The air between the two Alphas went razor thin.

And with no one else in the room to stop them, the real fight was just getting started

Shaquil just smiled, unbothered, and slid into the chair she’d pulled out. “Last time we talked, you said you loved my wolf pets and my pups had a litter. Figured you might want one of your own, Tigress.”

“Thank you,” Allison breathed. And then she did it.

She leaned over, wrapped her arms around Shaquille’s neck, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Quick. Grateful. _Familiar_.

Alex made a sound. Not a growl. Not words. Something broken.

His claws punched out again — _Alaric_ — and gouged the arm of his chair. But he didn’t move.

_Alex_ was the one who spoke next.

“What are you doing here?” His voice shook. He he was doing everything to keep Alaric from coming forward “Why’d you come to _my_ pack? How long are you staying?”

Shaquil’s grin went lazy. He didn’t look at Alex. He looked past him, to Allison. “I’m here for Allycat. How long? As long as she needs me.”

_Allycat._

Alex flinched. A full-body, breath-punching flinch. Gold flickered in his eyes for a second. Alaric, right there. Alex squeezed his eyes shut, shoved him down. When he opened them, they were gray.

“Don’t call her that,” Alex said. Quiet. Human. Wrecked.

“Or what, little Alpha?” Shaquille’s thumb brushed the edge of the table, casual, goading.

“Shakes.” Allison’s voice was steel now. She put a hand flat on Shaquille’s chest. A wall. “Turn it down. Now.”

Shaquil blinked. His hands, which had been resting on the table near hers, dropped to his lap. “You sure, Tigress?”

“I’m sure.” She turned to Alex.

He was breathing hard. No claws now. No gold. Just a man who looked like someone had carved his name out of his chest and given it to someone else.

“If you don’t like other women touching me,” Alex said, and the words were scraped raw, “how can you expect me to tolerate another man touching you?”

Allison swallowed. Jennifer. Naked. Last night.

“The difference, Alex, is Shaquille and I are friends. We’ve _been_ friends for five years. If we haven’t done anything before, what makes you think anything would happen now?”

Alex laughed. Ugly. Hurt. “Five years. He’s had five years of _Allycat_ and _Tigeress_ and spinning you around. Five years of knowing you while I—” He stopped. “While I didn’t.”

He looked at her, not Shaquil. “You walked in last night and saw Jennifer. you know what that feels like to have your mate have someone put their hands on me. I know it burns. So don’t tell me I’m crazy for wanting to rip his hands off.”

“You’re not crazy,” she said quietly. “But you need boundaries and develop more trust, Alex. With me. With him. With yourself.”

Alex dragged a hand through his hair. No claws. Just trembling fingers. “I’m asking,” he said, and the words cost him. “Not telling. Not commanding. I’m _asking_. Don’t let him touch you like that in front of me. Please. I can’t watch it.”

Allison studied him. No Alpha. No wolf. Just Alex.

“Okay,” she said finally. “But you don’t touch other women. Not in our room. Not anywhere. Deal?”

“Deal,” Alex breathed.

He didn’t sit. In two strides he was behind her. One arm banded around her waist, the other under her knees. He lifted her clean off the floor and dropped into the chair, settling her squarely on his lap.

No growl. No gold eyes. Just Alex Mist, arms like iron.

Territorial. Claiming. _Mine_.

Allison smacked his arm. “Put me down. What do you think you’re doing?”

“You’re mine,” Alex said against her ear. Human voice. Human desperation.

She snorted. “That’s not what I remember from last night.”

Alex choked. Behind his eyes, Alaric _preened_.

With a sigh, she wiggled. And Alex let her go.

She dropped into her own chair, reached into the basket, and finally touched the pup. It yawned, tiny teeth flashing, and immediately tried to chew her finger.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?”

Rose stormed in, Jessy on her heels. Both of them were already in full glam — floor-length dresses, hair done, makeup perfect for the 4pm party.

And they looked _furious_.

Rose’s eyes swept the room — Shaquil lounging, Alex looking murderous, Allison in a vest and sweats holding a literal wolf pup, breakfast plates scattered like shrapnel.

“Are you having _lunch_?” Rose’s voice went up an octave. “It’s almost two o’clock! We’re supposed to be getting you ready! Hair, makeup, your dress! Do you know how long it takes to get those curls under control?”

Jessy stopped dead when she saw Shaquil. Her eyes narrowed. “Brother? What are you doing here?”

Shaquil grinned, all menace gone in an instant. “Hey, baby sis. I dropped by to say Happy birthday and drop of a gift for, tigress,” he said to Allison, ignoring everyone else.

“Oh no,” Jessy snapped, grabbing his arm. “Absolutely not. You are _not_ causing a distraction and interrupting their couple time. I _know_ you. You live for drama.”

“Couple time?” Alex bit out. On his was to go shower.

Jessy shot him a glare. “You think I don’t know my brother? He shows up, starts fights, and then pretends he’s innocent and Ally plays along.” She yanked Shaquil to his feet. “Up. Out. Now.”

“Jess—” Shaquil started, laughing.

“OUT,” Rose and Jessy said in unison.

Jessy hauled him toward the main door, hissing in whispers. “You’re lucky Mom isn’t here. She’d skin you for this. You don’t get to ruin her birthday because you’re bored.”

“I just wanted to say happy birthday,” Shaquil called over his shoulder, unrepentant.

The door shut behind them with a click.

Rose didn’t waste a second. She crossed the room, snatched Storm’s basket in one hand, and grabbed Allison’s wrist with the other. “We’re on a schedule. You,” she banged on the bathroom door where the shower was still running, “get out. Now.”

Alex yanked the bathroom door open a crack, steam billowing out. He was shirtless, hair wet, towel slung low on his hips. “What?”

“Out,” Rose repeated, unfazed by the sight. “We need the bathroom. You can finish in the guest suite. Go.”

Alex’s eyes flashed gold. Alaric _did not_ like being ordered around. But Rose just raised an eyebrow, daring him.

Allison smothered a laugh behind her hand.

Alex looked at her. At Rose. At the basket in Rose’s hand. His jaw ticked. “Fine.” He snatched a shirt off the floor and stalked past them, dripping water on the carpet. “Take the mutt too.”

Allison went still. Then she stepped forward, Storm cradled against her chest. Her voice was quiet. Dangerous. “If Storm goes, then I go with him.”

The room froze.

Alex stopped at the main door. His shoulders were rigid. He didn’t turn around.

“You’ve got two hours,” he said, voice rough. “Be ready by four.”

The door shut behind him.

Rose exhaled and rolled her shoulders, already in battle mode. She set Storm’s basket on the vanity counter and pushed Allison toward the bathroom. “Alright. Shower. Then we’re doing those curls and I’m painting your face so pretty that Alpha Jackass forgets his own name.”

Allison looked down at Storm, then at the bathroom, then at the door Alex disappeared through.

“Come on, birthday girl,” Rose said, softer now. “Let’s get you done. The pack is waiting.”

She shut the bathroom door behind them. .