My Unwanted Alpha (The Slaughterous Packs) book #2

A man with an income of a thousand billion a year should never need a thing in his life—so they’d say. Wrong. There is no contentment in money without the rightful power… And like a display of the royalty of the night, my Pack dispose themselves as an elite platoon, perfectly aligned with the treeline as I step out of my black SUV. I don’t waste a glance on them; they are rigorously trained, their shadowy Wolf forms blend seamlessly into the night. They move with precision, pairing off into their designated positions to secure the area. My priority is elsewhere. I stride to the center of the clearing, the faint glow of my Beta’s cigarette offering the only light. Papers prepared by the sitting board rest in my hands, while I keep my scrutiny. My father intends to claim the Red Moon Pack’s territory as his own possession. And what my father wants, he gets. The Muralin clan—our supposed "associates"—used to handle business with us. Yet one does not breach a deal with a centuries-old, bloodthirsty Pack like the Wolves of the Moon. My father doesn’t waver in the face of confrontation, and his temper is unmatched,—dangerously so. The most short-tempered man on Earth. Gamma Tucker Lacoon, my counselor and secretary, approaches with measured steps, parchment in hand. His bureaucratic tone carries weight as he reads aloud the council’s decree: “If the Red Moon Pack does not vacate the territory by the stipulated deadline, it will be considered a declaration of war. This is not a negotiation; it is merely a courtesy notice. Surrender is an option—if they choose wisely.” With a flourish, Tucker closes the parchment, his long, bony fingers waving it dismissively. “My courtesy is my fists,” growls my Beta, Kyrie, his voice low and threatening. I roll my eyes at his outburst, ignoring them both as I continue poring over the map of the Red Moon Pack’s Packhouse, spread open across the hood of my car. Kyrie, ever impatient, presses on: “There’s not a single respectable Alpha aura in this Pack. They’re a bunch of weaklings. We could finish them off tonight.” I ignore him again, my gaze growing distant as I fixate on the tops of the trees, my mind replaying every detail of my plan. Step by step. “If only you knew, Kyrie, how much they despise us for the simple fact of having written papers with their… agreements,” sneers Stever Lacoon, the long-haired gamma, a younger version of his father, as he steps into the circle forming around me. "They think they’re so much better..." But my thoughts are Interrupted by the entrance of an aura coming in like it is the landlord,—a force so strong and self-assured it seems to drape the clearing in a suffocating cloak of dominance. My head snaps toward the source. “And just as you mentioned their auras…” I mutter. The Agreement Wolves… Always a big problem. “What the f**k is that?” Kyrie growls. “It feels like the Nanlac Clan,” Tucker replies, his voice tinged with unease. “The Dethroned Dragons.” “Oh, of course, they’d show up,” Stever scoffs, the flared high collar of his overcoat accentuating his disdain. “Though dethroned, they never fail to stick their protruding dragon noses in matters beyond their station. And they have that daughter—that freak daughter. This… all of this—it’s her.” “f**k them,” Kyrie snaps. “If they want to play games with power, let’s show them what we’ve got. Let’s greet them, Alpha.” “No,” I cut him off, narrowing my eyes as I study the aura’s strange texture. It’s essence, it’s not just strong—it’s… weird. Uneasy. Dangerous. But tempting. Oh, for the Moon, it’s so damn tempting! My mouth waters before I shake off the stupid hunger clawing at my mind. “They can’t know I’m here. If they do, they’ll tighten security, and my plan will fall apart.” Convincing my egotistical, power-hungry father to give me seven days for this mission was no small feat. All I need is proof—something to disqualify the Red Moon Pack from The Agreement. That way, we can avoid a direct war against the entire The Agreement Packs and still achieve what we want. My father craves blood, suffering, and the obliteration of The Agreement. He’s delusional, consumed by his hunger for power and reliance on black magic. He thinks an endless war will strengthen us. But a direct war with The Agreement—home to the largest, most powerful Packs in the world—is suicidal. He doesn’t see it. I do. Fortunately, I’m smarter than he is. There’s a path to survival—and not just survival, but glory. Glory for the Pack, and the power we deserve. Kyrie steps forward, his voice dripping with defiance. “We’ll salute them then, Alpha.” “Go.” I see them retreating as I crouch in an uncomfortable position behind the SUV, an earnest desire building within me. It’s a sign of something I still refuse to let myself dwell on. I press my aura down to its most unnoticeable level, and, thanks to its responsiveness to my every command, I can almost appear to a human now—my energy contained mere inches from my body. Then I watch two Alpha auras approach, their powerful figures are followed by Beta members of their clan holding fire torches. But their arrival seems to shift my entire reality and redefine my existence. It’s, frankly, in the first glance I catch of her faded silhouette that my soul, instantly, flutters as it suffers the consequences of an extreme surrender to terms of an irrefutable contract I never knew I’d accepted. With pain gripping my chest and wide, goggled eyes, I hold myself down forcefully, endeavoring to get a better look at the two powerhouses approaching the limits of the clearing. And I see a man and a young woman. Their countenance are thoroughly austere—remarkably similar, strongly defined by sharp, angular bone structure; edged, but exceptionally good-looking. Not the most sociable of faces, they still manage to exude that air of superior cordiality The Agreement Royals are known for. Anyone would look too civil near them. “Smells like a kennel in here. Look, if it isn’t a pack of stranded dogs… searching for a new owner?” He asks with scorn, both of them maintaining their fair, unaffected expressions. But the hardly chatty Beta of mine explodes instantly to the provocation, his lips curl into a low grunt as he leans forward like a beast ready to transform and attack. “Beta, stop! Behave,” I mind-link Kyrie with an Alpha-tone sharp enough to lock him in place, his irascible anger now reduced to panting hard. my strong command makes my compressed aura vibrate, threatening to blow out in expansion. Fortunately, I have enough control to rein it in—and Kyrie as well. Stupid Beta. Even if she wasn’t my-… Kyrie’s drive to fight really would take him to face doom by challenging an Alpha like her… Or perhaps he just has too much trust in me, for our both sakes… reckless Wolf! The woman I keep trying to see behind him is a real object of pure desperation for my soul, now. And with the first glance I steal of her full body, I am all admiration, and it seizes my core in her hands for good. My Wolf cries a clear—MATE—to the night sky he sees in her, it echoes in my mind and I clench my jaw. She seems like a fine lady who has just left her private pianoforte lessons: long, slender limbs, skin too pale, straight black hair—falling like the night’s veil over the milky Moon skin, and a black dress. Its tightly laced corset barely cover her bubbled breasts, and I salivate. The long laced sleeves make it seems as though she is covered by tattoos, gripping me with an unbearable desire to undress her fully and verify it with my own eyes. I feel like a caged, wrecked mutt right now, with my underpants getting wet from pre-semen and excitement, while she still seems the finest—just like every perfectly well-bred Wolf, she is reserved, cold and extremely confident—sure, when you have a Wolf like that, you don’t really need to be anything else. My unwanted Alpha Mate keeps her nonchalant expression, arms crossed, casually examining her own nails, making me wonder what they are like and how they would feel against my skin in a raw moment of intimate lost control. “Quite the audacity for a Fallen Dragon, the typical presumption that led to your family’s downfall, huh, Nanlac? You honestly think we would want to form any allegiance with a destitute king like you?” Gamma Tucker’s rapid, smart-aleck response immediately restores the Pack’s dignity, but he is followed by his son’s tentative provocation, which equally quick backfires when he says: “The Fallen Dragons, they are just like that, so delusional, Dad. We’re not even here to waste a single breath on you and your bizarre daughter.” Then the stunning lady in dark lets out a low chuckle, and her tired, distant eyes lift fulminantly, locking onto gamma Stever, like the sea’s black sweep, drawing you into depths where you can’t breathe or live anymore. What are those eyes! I could never imagine something so feminine and so fatal as they target straight into Stever’s soul. Her pallid grey eyes begin to burn red, and I feel it deep down in my body—how much I yearn to be the one stripped bare by that fiery gaze She has the air of a rebellious, broken angel as she holds her piercing gaze on him and smirks, the face of real satisfaction. Then, taking small steps forward, she moves like a careful predator—too confident that annoys you, or make you want to drop to your knees. She acts like an animal intending on doing terrible things to you—on mauling you whole, and for a weird reason, I want her to do it. Her tall and striking figure now stands in my full view in the firelight. The elegance of her movements only fuels my burning desire. I wish I could admire her beauty like this all the time, to talk to her, to ask her questions, though I’m certain that a being like her would never make it easy on anyone to get anything from her. As she steps past her father’s leading position, who watches her in silence, as does everyone else, she says in a low, calming voice: “You can call us the Fallen Dragons, or whatever you like, but be aware—it was never a crown that made us strong. As you can see, just one of us alone already holds more power than your entire Pack.” Her eyes and face sweep from one gamma to the other, exuding a scary dominance. “So if I were you, I’d watch my words more carefully, dogs.” With that, her eyes suddenly fall right here, right where I am, in the edge of the SUV and I hide in a jump. F*ck! That made me feel like a little boy. Caught doing something wrong. I struggle to catch my breath, my heart racing like mad. My mate, the biggest inconvenience. No, the biggest inconvenience is that… she’s PERFECT, damn it. And SHE’S A DAMN The Agreement Wolf! Now, atop all the other reasons, I had yet another to stay hidden. If she even caught a hint of who I am, she would reject me in an instant. “Let’s go, daughter. We don’t waste time on street dogs,” I hear her father say one more time. I wait for her response before sneaking another careful peek from a lower spot, near the wheels. “Sure, father,” she replies. I see as her skin begins to glow red lines, as though she is made of fire pulsing through her veins. She blows out air to the sky, however, instead of a spray of saliva particles, what leaves her mouth is a spray of little floating fire sparks. The embers and ashes fall over my men like smoldering rain. Kyrie overreacts, growling and frantically tapping at the sparks on his shoulders and body. With a dismissive scoff, she turns her back on them, walking away with her father, her untouchable, blazing power surrounding everything—including their Beta Wolf guards. “All of this is a damn waste of time. That’s why I hate diplomacy,” Beta Kyrie curses, more pissed off than I’ve ever seen him. Gamma Tucker waits until the overwhelming aura dissipates before speaking. He and his son watching the Nanlac clan vanish into the trees, Stever’s lips pressed into a tight, rigid line, his nostrils flaring as if holding back an outburst. “Not diplomacy—smartness, Beta Kyrie. Now, let’s gather the information we need and proceed to the Red Moon’s Packhouse Audience to deliver the message once and for all,” Tucker says. I get up feeling aloof, but I catch Kyrie turning to me, and he’s struck with astonishment when he finally notices just how wrecked I am. He hadn’t realized my heart was pounding like crazy until now. Damn, if I’m not sure half the shadows around us have already noticed it by now. Well, props to my Wolves and their sharp senses. But I can’t care about that now, nor about the assumptions they’ll make. This is my mission, and this is my handpicked crew—well-trained, loyal, and trustworthy. I lift my head, meeting their worried gazes and all I can say in a whisper of more air than sound is: “She’s my mate.” I wanna vomit. “Wh- wh-?” Stever stammers, apparently losing his high-IQ in a blink. Kyrie, however, explodes: “What a f*ck?!?” He screams, while I watch my old adviser just stare me down silently and deadly. “Quiet,” I snap. “Nobody can know about it. We proceed with the plan. Nothing changes.” I manage to deliver the command firmly, pointing sharply at them, though I can feel my hands trembling. I quickly hide them and turn my back on my three most trusted men, bending over the hood of my car as I try desperately to regain control. F*ck, I feel so hard that it hurts!