The Alpha’s Bald Luna

Bizarre thoughts

~ MARDEO ~

After delivering the bad news to Princess Orlanda, I went straight to Warren’s chamber. He had mind linked me earlier in the afternoon to inform me that the princess’s lover didn’t make it. As if my situation could get any more complicated.

I knocked once. Like a chemical reaction, he opened the door immediately.

“Alpha Mardeo.” he acknowledged me before entering his room.

I followed, shutting the door securely behind me. A quick scan showed that he didn’t have company and I was grateful for that. I didn’t want to talk to him while he fisted a she-wolf’s p*ssy; it had happened before.

“My right hand,” I greeted him, “Hit me with the strongest bourbon you have.”

He gave me a puzzled look. “You’re good?”

“Trying to be.”

I hadn’t been good since last night when I found out the princess was my mate. As an Alpha, claiming my fated mate was in my best interest. Wolves believe Alphas are stronger with their fated Lunas.

Besides, it is a sign of good leadership. If every wolf simply refused their fated mate and chose another, of what use will the revered mate bond be? For an Alpha to reject his fated mate, it had to be for a very good reason.

Like she is cursed or weak or lowly ranked or an enemy of the pack. Orlanda was none of these.

I had even tried to deny the mate scent but I knew I was only lying to myself - what I had perceived in the woods last night was as real as it got.

There are a number of ways for werewolves to feel the mate bond. For my pack and other packs in the north, we identified our mates through their scent.

Werewolves already have a strong sense of smell so it is easy for us to pick out our mate’s scent. It might smell like raspberries or saffron or whatever the other wolf smells like, but ultimately, it smells like mate. It is unmistakable and overpowering to the senses of the mates.

The scent is stronger when both mates have gotten their wolf. If not, it is more subtle and only the mate who has gotten their wolf can perceive it.

Rarely, wolves are mated with non wolves. Like humans, or vampires, or in my case, an elemental. When this happens, the wolf is able to perceive their mate’s scent which would usually be undetectable if they weren’t mates.

Princess Orlanda doesn’t have a wolf so I can’t expect her to perceive my scent like I do hers. This means I’d have quite a lot to explain to her when we have the conversation. If we have the conversation - the mere thought of it makes me want to pass my hand through a meat grinder.

“You know you can talk to me about anything?” Warren’s voice interrupted my thoughts. He had filled a glass and he slid it to me on the table, his eyes never leaving my face.

“I know.”

“So?”

I took a chug of the bourbon. It was impressively smooth. Another of Warren’s strong fortes. “The princess’s lover, he’s really dead?”

“Dead as a doornail, Alpha. He had an internal bleeding. You really did him in.”

“Not intentional. My wolf was very close to the surface. I was more of an animal than a man.”

“We all hate to see Ripper coming,” he laughed, “How is the big bad wolf doing?”

“Not in speaking terms with me yet. He hasn’t gotten his run.”

Warren laughed so hard, he snorted. By now, he must be tired of Ripper’s dramas. Even I was.

“Sometimes, I wonder if he’s your wolf or your wife.”

“Sometimes? I wonder that everytime.” I replied with a small chuckle.

Warren’s face returned to seriousness. “Anyway, the man’s long buried now. I tried my best.”

“No, you didn’t. I can see your work desk is clear. It takes at least three days for your lazy ass to clear it after an operation.”

Warren laughed again as he realized he had been caught. “Okay, I tried but maybe it wasn’t my best.”

“Why? You should have.”

“Why? He’s only human. Since when did they begin to matter that much?”

“Since they became lovers of Princess Orlanda.”

“And since when did she begin to matter that much?”

“Since I found out she is my fated mate.”

Warren’s brows nearly touched his hairline. “What?! That’s…”

“Unbelievable.” I finished for him.

He took a swig of his bourbon. “I was going to say impossible. I mean, she is betrothed to another. A man you would not want to cross.”

“Betrothals are not spiritual like the mate bond is. And I am not scared of crossing King Pompa. That's the least of my worries.”

“So what’s the biggest of your worries?”

I drew in a large breath and started, “First of all, the timing. I don’t want any distractions on my quest of becoming Alpha.”

“I understand. It’s like someone knocking on the bedroom door just when you’re about to orgasm.”

I ignored his bad joke. “Then there’s Princess Orlanda, the infamous mean princess. I don’t care for a mate but I’ve always known I would need to take one to give the pack a Luna. I’m not asking for too much if I want her to be a kind female who would be like a mother to the pack, am I?”

“I would say that’s the bare minimum.” he replied, refilling both our empty glasses with the amber liquid.

“Then her people. Taking Orlanda as my mate would mean an inevitable alliance between Right Stone and Shanakoi. I don’t want that. Shanas are crazy sadistic people. And how they treat their women… I don’t want that for my pack.”

“That’s why you’re the best leader Right Stone could wish for.”

“Then of course, the betrothal. I welcome new enemies but I expect them to be worth it. Gaining a man like Pompa as an enemy by marrying Orlanda sounds like the worst deal of the century.” I hadn’t even thought of this before now. It seemed like the more I spoke, the more I realized what a horrible match this was.

“I’ve only been around for twenty four years but I can assure you, it is.” Warren was definitely on a roll with his witty responses tonight.

I managed a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes. “And the newest one: Thanks to you, I have killed her lover.”

“I wasn’t the one who beat up a man like I caught him stealing my gold.” he protested.

“He asked for it. You know I never attack first.”

We were silent for a while. Brains racking as we analyzed the problem in front of us; an activity we had done more times than we could count.

“You know you can simply reject her?” Warren broke the silence.

“I can reject her but not simply. I don’t need to remind you how difficult it is for an Alpha to reject his fated mate. The pack leaders would not like that. Especially when they find out it is the Shanakoi princess. They would be thrilled to have an alliance with Shanakoi. Of course, that’s because they’ve not lived with them to know the kind of people they are.”

“And they say the Moon Goddess doesn’t make mistakes,” Warren bemused, “Even if you hadn’t killed her lover, Orlanda would definitely want nothing to do with you. She feels about elementals the same way you feel about werewolves. She believes they are a superior species. She would want to marry a fellow elemental.”

“Except she doesn’t. Remember she is pretending to be mad so she can avoid a marriage to an elemental. And she had a human lover.”

“Hmmm… I wonder why. Maybe his d**k was good enough to make her look beyond her prejudice. Never underestimate the power of good coitus, Mardeo. Hot, sensual, toe-curling, bed-breaking-“

“That would do.” I cut him off.

He laughed and emptied his glass of bourbon. “If Princess Orlanda is truly your mate, I trust that you will make the best decision. For yourself, for the pack, and for the werewolf realm.”

I knew exactly what he meant.

“I left the princess a note with the location of her lover’s gravesite.” I informed him.

“That’s good.”

“I anonymously delivered one to the man’s family as well. His name was Philip.”

“I promise you, putting a name to a man I buried doesn’t make me sleep better at night.” Warren groaned, rubbing his temple exaggeratedly.

After Warren informed me of the man’s death, I did some research to find his identity and family. Philip Henshaw. Twenty-three years old. Third generation slave - his grandfather had been captured and brought to Shanakoi decades ago. Only child.

That was how I knew he didn’t have a brother. The Moon Goddess had really matched me with a female who sent her slave into a stampede on a wild goose chase, probably hoping he got killed. And I could bet she didn’t have a reason to do that, just the typical savage nature of a Shana. The thought of it brought a sour taste to my mouth.

When I decided to attend the event at the Onyx tonight, it was because I was desperate for a distraction. I have always hated the sick Shanakoi tradition of torturing lawbreakers to death but I needed an escape from the many thoughts that were threatening to do my head in. Thankfully, my presence ended up saving his life.

There was one last thing I wasn’t telling Warren because it was so bizarre, I couldn’t share it without being absolutely certain. Tonight, when I carried the princess’s slave out of the Onyx and all through the walk to the palace, I could perceive my mate’s scent on him. It was faint but it was there.

Why on earth would Orlanda’s scent be on her male slave? Since he obviously wasn’t wearing her clothes, there was only one reason that came to mind and I hoped to the Goddess it wasn’t what I was thinking.