The Virgin Alpha and the Prostitute

Chapter 5: Tangles

Paris

I awoke with a start, forgetting momentarily where I was and how I’d come to be there. But then I felt her stir at my movement, and the smell of ice cream hit my nose, and everything that had happened the night before came rushing back to me. A stupid grin cracked across my face. I’d found my mate.

We’d made out in the pool for a while longer, and chatted over a pretty amazing wine and cheese selection that another girl had brought up. I was amazed by her levity and sense of humor, which I could tell were undergirded by a sharp wit and deep intelligence on her part. With each tiny thing she did and said, she had me wrapped tighter and tighter around her finger.

We didn’t leave that hot tub until it was almost sunrise. I could hardly contain my elation when she asked if I wanted to sleep at her place, a few floors down from the club. I knew better than to tell her so outright, but I wanted nothing more than to sleep by her side for the rest of my days.

I buried my nose in her hair, inhaling her sweet scent. She stirred again, stretching her arm over me and nuzzling her face into my chest. “Good morning, mate,” she said sleepily. “Did you sleep well?”

“I slept amazing,” I replied, kissing the top of her head.

“Our first night together,” she mused. “I don’t think I’ve ever slept better.”

A thought hit me, and I chuckled.

“What?” she asked, propping herself up on her elbows to meet my gaze.

“Nothing. It’s just…” I hesitated. “It’s just I always assumed I’d have s*x with my mate the second I found her.”

She nodded, pensive. “Did you want to? I was kind of trying to go off of you, but if you wanted me to initiate—”

I shook my head. “You did the rid the right thing. But I don’t know why I didn’t initiate either. I think I was just trying to take it all in.” I paused, thinking for a moment. “And it makes sense. I had all these preconceptions in my head about what you’d be like and what I’d do when I found you, and all of that went out the window when it happened for real.”

“What did you think I’d be like?” she smiled coyly. I felt my face pale a bit. “Nope, you opened that door,” she teased. “Fess up!”

I laughed. “Okay. I thought I’d found my mate once before. So everything in my head was a comparison to her, my first love. But you…” I paused, grazing her cheek with my thumb, “…you’re more than I could’ve ever imagined.”

“Do you still love her?” she asked, and her feeble attempt at concealing her jealousy made my heart leap. She doesn’t want to share me.

“No, that ship sailed a long time ago.” I saw her relax a bit. “And what’s amazing is that the I love I felt for her seemed irreplaceable, even all these years later, but when I met you…it doesn’t even make sense anymore what I saw in her.”

She smiled slightly, laying her head on my chest and snuggling up to me. “So, who is she? Is she in your pack?”

“Is my mate a bit…nosy?” I teased. She sat up and shot me a look.

“No!” she protested. “Just…curious.”

I grinned. “All right. I’ll tell you. But only because I want you to hear it from me.”

10 years earlier

I woke up the morning before my 18th birthday feeling like I could rule the world. I leapt out of bed, threw on jeans and a t-shirt, ruffled my curls in the mirror, and bounded downstairs. Past the dining hall, bustling with hungry pack members chatting over breakfast, past the rec room and the hall leading to the training gym, and out the back door into the sunshine.

She was waiting for me in the garden, still well-maintained by my mother then, and the only thing that could match my love in beauty as far as I knew back then.

“Christine!” I called. She had her back to me. She turned and smiled, tucking flowers into her long, blond braid. I caught her up in my arms and kissed her deeply, feeling tingles in my belly that I attributed to the mate bond. She kissed me back for a moment, before pulling back, her face flushed.

“Not so close to the house,” she giggled shyly. “My dad will kick your ass.”

I grinned. “After tonight, he won’t be able to say anything. No one will. You’ll be mine.”

I pulled her behind a tree and pressed my lips to hers again, my hands roaming all over her, soliciting moans and gasps from her that only made me want her more. But I knew I had less than 24 hours left to wait for her. She was almost all mine.

Christine was my sweetheart, my love, my best friend. Born on the same day into the same pack, we’d been inseparable since we could crawl and find our way to each other in the pupcare center. I’d kissed her for the first time when we were five, and she’d slapped me for my trouble, but she never stopped hanging around me, and never made me stop hanging around her. When we were twelve and I started my Alpha training (and started getting more interested in girls than before), I decided that I knew deep down in my bones that she was my Luna. I told her so when we were 13, and she let me kiss her for real. When we were 16 and more deeply in love than ever, we made a pact that we’d wait to have s*x until we were “officially” mates—on our 18th birthday after our first shift. We’d mark each other that night and get ready to lead the pack together. While my friends and classmates, even my future Beta Aaron, were still figuring out who they were and what they wanted to be, at 17 years and 364 days, I had my whole life figured out.

We stepped out from behind the tree some 15 minutes later, totally disheveled, flushed, and out of breath. She had bits of bark and twig in her hair from being pressed up against the tree trunk and I had lipgloss smeared on my face. It was hard to keep it in my pants when we got that hot and heavy into our make out sessions, but it was worth it for her. It had to be. They say the mate bond is like nothing else—so even if we did it now, it’d seem lackluster compared to what we would have once we could do it as mates anyway. Besides, she’d left a bruise when she hit me that time in kindergarten—I wasn’t about to make that mistake again.

“I should get going,” she said, tugging her bra back in place through her shirt, as I’d had it unclasped and pushed up a few minutes earlier. “Need to put a few things together for the party tonight.”

“Our last joint birthday party before we’re mates. Maybe our last one without pups too,” I winked at her.

“Oh, goddess, Paris. One thing at a time.” Her tone was annoyed but her eyes sparkled in anticipation. She was sometimes shy to admit it, but I knew she wanted babies, bad. I knew her next heat was coming up in a few months, so it was totally feasible for us to have our first one before our next birthday. If she wanted that, I wanted to give it to her.

She kissed my cheek and then darted back towards the house, her long blonde hair bright in the sunshine. I watched her go, feeling what I was convinced was the nascent pull of the mate bond as she disappeared inside.

That night, our birthday party was still in full swing at 11:45, even though it had started at sunset with dinner. But give wolves an excuse to party when the moon happens to be full, and they’ll go till dawn. Dancing and alcohol flowed freely for anyone over 16, but I hadn’t had any since I’d need to have my strength and wits about me for my first shift.

Christine had been seated next to me for dinner and cake, but was now working the crowd, which included our extended families from out of town and neighboring packs, who were invited in the interest of promoting unity in the area. I tried now to pick her out of the crowd, but the lawn of the pack house was teeming with people I did and didn’t recognize. I spotted Aaron alone at one of the bar stations, clearly deep in thought.

“You gonna finish that?” I approached, pointing at his full beer glass, which was dripping with condensation.

Aaron smiled half-heartedly. “Yeah. Sorry, just feeling a bit off today. Is it, like, especially humid or is that just me? The air feels heavy somehow.”

I shook my head. “No, just you. Are you coming down with something?”

“No, I’m sure it’s nothing. Sorry to be a stick in the mud.”

“You’re good. Have you seen Christine?”

“Uh…yeah. She was over there talking to people from the Crocus Moon Pack.” Aaron pointed, and I turned and saw Christine, my beautiful Christine, hanging on every word coming out of another man’s mouth, her hand on his arm. I felt Atlas threaten to take over. Aaron grabbed my shoulder. “Hey, it’s probably nothing. It’s probably nothing, you need to calm down.”

“That’s the son of the alpha of Crocus Moon, Aaron,” I said lowly. “Our biggest rival—my biggest rival—and she’s hanging all over him.”

“She’s not hanging all over him. It’s okay. It’ll be okay!” Aaron’s words faded behind me as I stormed over to the table where Christine was sitting. She was the image of beauty that night, in a pale pink dress covered in sequins that sparkled in the moonlight. It was low-cut in the front and open in the back and all I could think about when I saw her in it for the first time that evening was how I couldn’t wait to get her out of it. This night had all the potential to be perfect and I wasn’t going to let her ruin it.

“Christine,” I said, approaching the table. She quickly withdrew her hand from the man’s arm when she heard my voice. “My apologies, Warren,” I said coldly to the young alpha. “I need to speak to her. Enjoy the party.”

Warren nodded and Christine stood from the table. As I turned to walk away, she squeezed his shoulder apologetically, clearly thinking I wouldn’t notice. It took everything in me not to cause a scene—and a major political incident—at my own birthday by attacking him right then and there. I pulled Christine out behind some hedges in the garden. “What were you thinking? You know who that is, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“You made me look like a fool. We’re going to be mates in a few minutes. How do you think that’s going to reflect on me that you’d be all over another man right before that happens?”

“I wasn’t all over him. I was just trying to make him feel welcome,” Christine protested.

“Inviting him was a courtesy, an attempt to keep the conflict about the river valley from getting out of hand. Nothing more. They’re not our friends. You shouldn’t have been talking to him in the first place. As future Luna, you should know better.”

I saw Christine’s eyes burning hot with tears. “You’re an asshole, Paris.”

“I’m telling you how it is. Stay away from him.”

“It’s almost that time!” I heard my father’s voice boom on the loudspeakers in the yard. “The moon is high in the sky, which means it will be midnight in a few minutes. Will the birthday boy and girl come forward please?”

I reached for Christine’s hand, but she shot me a deadly look and stormed off ahead of me. I followed her, angry but confused. She’d never been like this before.

We rounded the corner and climbed onto the stage that had been set up for the occasion. My father beckoned for me to stand next to him. He threw an arm around me. “There’s no prouder day in an Alpha’s life than the day his son turns 18. You’ll be a man, son, and soon ready to take over the pack.” He glanced at his watch. “30 seconds to go. I’d love it if everyone would count down from 20 with me.”

As the crowd started counting down to our joint birthday, I turned to Christine. I’ve never seen her so conflicted. She was trying to hide it under her brilliant smile for the party, but I knew she was upset. Had I crossed a line? I didn’t think so. I could only hope that when she felt the full mate bond that she’d have to forgive me, that she’d understand where I was coming from. I took her hand.

“10…”

“You know I love you,” I whispered.

“9…”

“I know, but Paris…”

“8…”

“It’s fine. We’ll be okay. Just a few more seconds…”

“5…”

“I think something’s wrong.”

“4…”

“What?”

“3…”

“Something’s wrong.”

“2…1…” the crowd broke out in a cheer as midnight rang out from the clock tower atop the pack house. But I was suddenly filled with horror.

“Christine—” I whispered, but Christine’s mind was elsewhere. I released her hand. There were no sparks, no fireworks, no mate bond. She wasn’t mine. All these years, and she wasn’t mine. I followed her gaze. At the front of the crowd was Warren, son of the alpha of the Crocus Hill pack. His eyes were dark.

“Mate,” Christine whispered.

“No—”

She turned to me. “I’m sorry, Paris.” She darted off-stage and into Warren’s arms. I wanted to fight him as she pressed her forehead to his, and he wrapped her in his arms. A rumble of surprise erupted from our pack members, who all knew what was supposed to happen tonight. My father was speechless at the microphone. I saw Aaron bound up the stairs onto the stage, still looking like hell but waiting in the wings in case I needed him. And I just stood there, frozen. I had no claim to her anymore. I’d wasted all that time loving her, and it was all for nothing.

“Uh, all right, everyone, it’s time for the first shift,” my father finally said, attempting to recover the moment. I saw Warren ask something of Christine. She nodded, and he scooped her up in his arms. He began to carry her away, his friends following him.

I turned to my dad. “Give me five minutes.”

“The first shift and pack run will happen in five or ten minutes,” he said to the crowd. “So help yourself to one more drink or some snacks, and we’ll get this show on the road shortly.” I smacked his back in gratitude as I took off after Warren. Aaron came after me, loyal friend that he was.

“Are you sure you’re all right? You look worse than before.”

“I’m fine. It’s just especially hot tonight,” he replied, wiping sweat from his brow.

“You look like s**t, Aaron,” I insisted. “You should go home.”

“Are you gonna be okay?” He asked, coming to a stop and grabbing my arm.

“I won’t be if I don’t at least get to say goodbye.” I paused. Aaron nodded, and we took off towards the field where visiting packs had parked their vehicles.

“Christine!” I called out, as they finally came into view.

She hadn’t heard me. She was standing next to what must be Warren’s car. He said something to her, and she threw her head back and laughed. I stopped in my tracks. In all the years I’d known her, I’d never seen her so at ease, so carefree. So happy.

Aaron skidded to a stop next to me. He was out of breath and had fallen behind. “Paris,” he painted, “why are we—” he cut off the end of his question as Christine drew Warren’s face to hers, kissing him with a passion that I had never seen from her. “f**k, Paris. I’m sorry,” Aaron said quietly.

Christine, my Christine, my shy, quiet, demure Christine, who was always fine with sneaking around but never wanted to display our affection publicly, who had known me for years but still kept me at arm’s length with a thousand promises for our future, who only told me she loved me in whispers and stolen glances, slid her hands into the pants of this relative stranger, who slipped the strap of her dress off of her shoulder, trailing his hands down her back. I turned away before I had to see anything else.

“Come on,” I said to Aaron. “Let’s get you back to the packhouse. You really do look terrible.”

Amalia

“Goddess, Paris,” I whispered, when he finally finished telling me the story. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m over it now. But it took me a long time to get there. I sort of threw myself into training for the alpha role, taking care of my pack. A few girls here and there tried to make a move, hoping I’d take them as a chosen mate. But after Christine, I didn’t want to trust anyone. What if I took a chosen mate and then she found her fated mate? I couldn’t do that to myself again.” He pulled me closer to him. “So I waited,” he continued, “for you.”

“Have you seen her again?”

Paris shook his head. “Not since that night. Tensions have only gotten worse between Harvest Moon and Crocus Moon since then. Not a lot of communication. I will probably have to once I become Alpha. I’m not sure whether Warren has ascended yet or if his father is also still holding onto the reins.”

I nodded, my thoughts turning now to pack politics and all the other things I’d have to consider as a Luna.

Misreading my contemplation, Paris interjected, “I don’t still carry a torch for her, Amalia. I don’t want her. Even if she wanted me back, I wouldn’t take her.”

“I know,” I smiled. “When do you go home?”

“My flight is tomorrow night. Red eye. But if you want to come with me, I can change the reservation so we can travel together.”

“I think I’d like that. It’s not like I have a reason to stay now that you put me out of a job,” I teased.

He beamed. “Okay. It’s settled, then. I’ll get that changed today. I can also arrange to have all your stuff shipped.”

“Well,” I said, sitting up, “I thought I was going to offer to f**k you this morning, but it sounds like I have a lot to do, so I don’t have time anymore.”

Paris blushed. “I don’t think I’d have taken you up on that anyway,” he said, not meeting my eyes. “I’ve been sealed off from love for so long that now I don’t know how to untangle that knot.”

I took his chin in my hand and tugged his face towards me so he met my gaze. “Listen to me. You have nothing to feel bad about. We can take it as slow as you need, okay? I’m not in a rush.”

He smiled gratefully. “Thanks…I want you, I’m just…I don’t know.”

“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out together. Are you hungry? There’s a diner around the corner that has the best breakfast.”

“That sounds great,” he smiled. “Wish I had my suitcase so I wouldn’t have to wear that damn button-up again.”

“Call Aaron,” I suggested. “Have him bring it over from your hotel. He can join us for breakfast. I should probably get to know him at some point.” I slid out of bed, planting a kiss on his forehead as he reached for his phone on my bedside table before heading to the bathroom.

I washed my face and brushed my teeth, then let my hair down out of the bun I’d slept in, using a bit of water to get the dark waves to lay the way I wanted.

When I emerged from the bathroom, Paris was standing outside the door. “Aaron was hungover as hell,” he said. “He needs an hour.”

“That’s fine,” I chuckled. “I can make us some coffee or something here and we can look at flights while we wait.”

I went back to the bedroom to get dressed while Paris used the bathroom. I slipped out of the workout shorts and tank top that I’d slept in for the sake of not making Paris uncomfortable. I grabbed a black lace thong and matching bra out of my dresser drawer. I had just put that on and was bent over a lower drawer looking for pants when I heard a low groan from the doorway.

In an instant, Paris was beside me and had snatched me up into his arms. He buried his nose in the crook of my neck, sending shockwaves down my spine as he teased the spot where I knew he’d leave his mark. “How long did I say we had?” he mumbled into my skin.

“An hour,” I said more breathlessly than I intended, as his fingers wandered down my back to the clasp of my bra.

“Not a lot of time, but let’s see what we can do.”