Alpha's intended, Beta's claim

Chapter two

Edward

"Twenty f*****g thousand short, beta Knox," Max's voice rang in my head.

He never calls me by my name, he wouldn't dare. I might be a Beta, but my wolf - Jasper - was larger and meaner than most Alphas, scarred from years of fighting underground pits to keep my mother’s house from being preyed on.

The knuckles of Max's right hand were split open, leaking dark werewolf blood onto the top of his polished mahogany desk, but I didn’t reach for a rag.

The injury wasn't me. Max had panicked and doomed himself the moment I walked in. It's his fault for sending such pathetic fodders to do his dirty job. His stray wolves were no match for me.

"Your old man left a hole three hundred grand deep when he drank himself to death. Winning underground street races on that rusty Harley isn't chipping away the interest anymore." He jeered, flipping through the stack of hundred-dollar bills I had just dropped in front of him.

Max was an older Beta, a loanshark from our pack. He had a jagged scar running from his ear to his collarbone and a smile that smelled like rotting meat. He had a tough exterior and a fierce wolf. The rest of our pack members may walk on eggshells around him, but not me.

"My Harley bike isn't a piece of s**t, Max," I snarled, leaning forward and letting my intimidating frame colonize his space. Even my voice created a rumbling effect that rattled the glass decanter on his desk.

I've lived all my life paying off debts I didn't owe. A trans-generational curse I had no business with that had plagued me. According to history - one we all learnt in history class, which means everyone in the pack knew about it - my great grandfather committed heinous crimes. First, he desecrated the altar of the moon goddess. Then he stole the spirit-weaver’s stone - a beautiful, iridescent gemstone that was used to heal wolf madness from Ravine's pack. And then fueled the war between the Ravine pack and the nine-tailed fox clan. Lives were lost and as payment for his crimes - which most claim was quite merciful of the goddess and the alpha of Ravine's pack - he had to live all his life serving them, alongside his pups and great great grand pups forever.

"And that's every cent from the purse tonight. Take it, or I take it back." I scowled, my face twisted in a grimace.

Max stiffened, his own wolf shrinking back from the challenge in my eyes. He swept the cash into a drawer and spat on the floor. "You get one more grace period, biker. Next month, I start taking payment in blood. Or maybe I'll pay your sweet little sister a visit—"

He didn't finish the sentence. My blood boiled a degree hotter and in a fraction of a second, I vaulted the desk. My forearm slammed into his throat, pinning his cocky head against the concrete wall. My eyes flashed bright, predatory red as my claws lengthened, sinking into his flesh.

"Say her name again," I snarled, Jasper growling and begging me to let him out. "Say it, Max, and I'll paint this room with your guts."

The room went still. No bird sang. Every creeping thing seemed to pause anticipating the face-off.

"Enough, Edward."

The voice came from behind the door—calm, but dripping authority and royal command. I didn't need to turn around to know who it was. I'd heard his voice from the moment I learnt to fight. We'd attended Werewolf High together. He was my best friend.

Alpha Ceasar, the alpha prince of Rivers pack. He was the only wolf who could give me an order without having his guts in my hands.

I held Marcus’s windpipe for one second longer just to make a point, then shoved him away. My claws snapped back into my fingers as I adjusted my leather jacket, and turned to Ceasar.

"Max was just leaving, prince alpha," I said, glaring at the squeaky Max who grabbed his belongings and staggered out like a rat.

"Why is Max the one leaving? This isn't your space, Edward." Ceasar said with a grime smile, as he watched the events unfold with much enthusiasm. He loved it when I went berserk.

"What are you doing in a slum like this, Your Highness?" I asked, wiping a smear of blood off my knuckles.

"Looking for you." Caesar answered, chuckling. As always, he was impeccably dressed in a tailored black suit that looked out of place in a gambling den. His black hair was perfectly trimmed with a stray strand on his temple. Ceasar was the perfect alpha prince, but someone I had never envied. "Walk with me. We have business." He said, taking the lead.

We stepped out together into the cool, biting evening air of our pack and I felt the cold air hit my cheeks like we had a fight.

Outside, my Harley parked by the curb smiled under the streetlights, heat still ticking off the chrome pipes from my race to the den.

Ahead of us, the sound of moving vehicles, of birds chirping on trees and the noise of pups living freely pierced my chest like a lethal weapon. All my life I'd only been trained to pay off debts, I wished my sister - Maureen - could live a little freely.

"The Elders are breathing down my neck, Ed," Ceasar started without preamble, tearing me away from my thoughts. "They want a Luna by the end of the season." He finished, now leaning against the brick wall of the sidewalk.

"Why the rush?" I quizzed, vexed by the haste.

"They want a royal wedding by the end of the season to secure the northern alliances. If I don't present a mate at the Blue Moon gala, they'll force a mating contract with the High Alpha’s daughter from Frost pack. She’s a viper who will tear my pack apart from the inside."

"So tell them to go to hell," I said, pulling a pack of cigarettes from my pocket and lighting one. "You're the Alpha Prince. Act like it."

"It's not that simple, and you know it," Caesar sighed, rubbing his temples. "I need a distraction. I need a girl who is an outsider. Someone who has no political ties to the werewolf courts, someone who can play the part of a fierce, untouchable Luna, take a massive payout, and walk away clean once I consolidate my power."

I took a long drag of my cigarette, squinting at him through the smoke. "And what does this have to do with me? I'm a biker, Ceasar. I don't play matchmaker for royal fake-dating schemes."

"I don't need a matchmaker. I need a scout. And a handler," Ceasar said, his eyes locking onto mine with dead seriousness. "The old seer has found my Luna, a human. She's currently in Albuquerque. I need you to bring her to me."

A human? How's that possible? I was curious, but I didn't act on it. It was none of my business. Ceasar would sort it all out, he always does.

I snorted, shaking my head. "Send one of your guards. I have a debt to pay."

"That is exactly why you're going," Ceasar stepped closer, his voice dropping an octave. "Go to Albuquerque. Find this Cassie Jones. Vet her and bring her back to the pack lands groomed and ready to be my intended mate. If you do this for me, Edward—if you deliver my Luna— my family has agreed to personally wipe your father’s debt completely clean. Today. Your family will be free."

I froze, the cigarette hovering an inch from my mouth. All my debt? Years of underground fights, broken bones, eating dirt, and looking over my shoulder at scums like Max—gone in an instant. My mother could retire. Maureen could go to college without looking over her shoulder.

"What's her name again?" I asked with painstaking confidence.

"Cassie Jones." Ceasar answered, looking like he'd just sealed a deal.

"Cassie Jones," I repeated, and something in me flickered like lightning.

It wasn't my wolf. It was an indescribable spark.

A recognition.