Wicked lessons from the Alpha

The complications of finding a mate

*Lupo*

I record a final notation in the ledger, aware of the late hour. Despite needing sleep, it eludes me easily. There's always a lingering feeling that I have something to prove, something to set right, something left undone.

As I close the ledger and my eyes, I surrender to the grip of my past.

I was born Peta Simons, the son of a thief and a murderer, though the knowledge of the latter is my secret alone. No one suspects that I witnessed my father's execution for killing my mother. Frannie Tempest believes she shielded me from the truth, but I am a child of the streets. No matter what I alter, I cannot change that reality.

When Miss Tempest married the Alpha of Greywind, her surname became obsolete, so I adopted it as my own in an attempt to distance myself from my father. During my childhood, I sometimes imagined that Greywind was my true father.

To mirror the Alpha, I had a wolf tattooed on my back. When the Alpha pointed out the Lupus constellation, I insisted on being called Lupo, paying homage to the wolf-shaped stars. Despite being embraced by the Grace family, I have always known that I don't truly belong. At seventeen, I started working at The full Moon club, determined to earn my own way and prove myself.

"Tell me what you know about Bentley," interrupts Hunter as he storms into my office. He exudes an air of needing to tear something or someone apart. We are close in age and have forged a fast friendship, despite our different yet similar paths.

"Alpha Bentley?" I inquire.

Hunter nods curtly. "What's his financial situation?"

"I don't have all the specifics, but he accumulates debt here and pays it off at the end of each month. It's a monotonous and predictable cycle."

"Exactly, monotonous and predictable," Hunter mutters, striding to the window and staring out. "I can't fathom what she sees in him."

"She? Who are you referring to?"

"Faye."

"What does she see in him? Who?"

"Bentley," Hunter snaps impatiently. "Are you even paying attention?"

"Faye mentioned to you that she has an interest in him?"

"On our carriage ride. She mentioned that he spouts nonsense."

"Nonsense? And that attracted her?" I ask.

Hunter fixes me with a glare, as if I haven't the sense to seek shelter from a rainstorm. "She believed it was poetry, exquisite. But it's nothing more than rubbish... his fantasies about her and such nonsense."

Why does Hunter even care? Why would Faye confide in him? "What was the purpose of her visit here earlier?"

"You will have to ask her, and while you're at it, advise her to stay away from Bentley."

I observe as Hunter storms out of my office. Something incredibly peculiar is happening tonight. It might be wise to have a conversation with Faye.

*Faye*

"What are you up to, Faye?"

Inside the Luna’s sitting room, which overlooks a rain-soaked garden, I raise my eyes from Little Women to find Lupo leaning against the door frame, arms folded across his chest. "Surely you recognize a book and the act of reading."

It's early afternoon. Having slept until late morning and still recovering from my secret escapade the previous night, it's concerning that Lupo, who typically sleeps until early evening, is disregarding his usual habits.

"Bentley?" Lupo's voice drips with sarcasm.

"What about him?"

Lupo uncrosses his arms, strides to the chair opposite me, and sinks into it. "You would no more consider Bentley a serious suitor than I would consider pursuing a March hare for a wife."

I offer a bright smile. "Are you contemplating marriage? Mother won't be pleased."

"Damn it, Faye." He growls.

"Who have you set your sights on?"

"Please, be honest with me."

I settle back against the plush chair. "How do you know about Bentley?"

With narrowed dark eyes, he scrutinizes me intensely. I refuse to flinch. "Hunter returned to the club last night, inquiring about Bentley's debt."

I try not to appear too pleased with the knowledge that Hunter, despite his claims of not caring whom I marry, does indeed care.

"What scheme are you involved in?" Lupo asks.

Like my mother, Lupo began his life on the streets, and despite the years that have passed since then, he still remembers the tricks of the trade. "Don't be absurd."

Leaning forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, he examines me as if he can peer straight into my soul.

"You're plotting something, and it involves Hunter. I would wager that you purposely lost that last hand."

"You would lose that wager. My intention was to win."

"And the favor?" He asks.

Lupo is as dear to me as either of my brothers, perhaps even more so. He's the one who held my hand during our visits to country fairs, carried me on his back when I grew weary, and sneakily took pastries from the kitchen to share with me. He wouldn't betray my trust, even without an explicit promise. "Men are swarming around me like bees to honey. I wanted his help to determine if a gentleman genuinely loves me."

"You're too discerning to fall for a man's deception, and I'm too perceptive to believe that's the sole reason for your request." Lupo's eyes widen. "You want him to be one of the bees?"

"Absolutely not. He is entirely unsuitable." Setting the book aside, I stand and glide over to the window. Raindrops slide along the glass, nature weeping.

He shakes his head. "He won't marry you. Something within him shattered with the deaths of Jessamine and Molly. You can't mend him, sweetheart, not the way he is."

"Didn't you hear me? I have no interest in him as a suitor, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try. Try to mend him, I mean. I don't mind that he doesn't love me... but I do mind that he's wasting his life."

"I've observed him for two years, Faye. I've been his confidant through the depths of his grief. Even if he does heal, there will still be cracks and rough edges."

"We all have rough edges." And mine are more unsightly than any Hunter might possess.

It's only when Lupo stands beside me that I notice my faint reflection in the glass.

"Those on the inside are far worse than those on the outside," he says.

"But the ones on the inside aren't as repulsive. They're invisible."

"Which is what makes them even more dangerous." He sighs. "How long have you loved him?"

I shake my head. "I don't love him. Oh, I was infatuated with him when I was younger, but it was nothing more than childish fantasy. I'm not oblivious enough to mistake it for anything else. Besides, I refuse to be a man's second choice, and I fear that with him, any other woman would always fall short. However, he possesses knowledge that can assist me, and if, in the process, he reintegrates into pack Society, all the better. He won't be competing for my attention, as he certainly has no need for my dowry."

"Neither do I."

Before I can decipher his expression, he turns and heads for the door. "Be cautious, Faye. If you put him in a position where he hurts you, I will be compelled to kill him."

I should have gone after him. Instead, I sink down onto the footstool. To Lupo, he has always been an older brother. Our bond is not formed by blood but by the connection of our hearts.

What I once felt for Hunter as a child was entirely different. He took my breath away with a glance, warmed my body with an unintentional touch, made my heart sing with a single spoken word. But he no longer possesses such power over me. He is merely a means to an end... one that holds far more significance than I dare reveal to him.

I'm grateful for the advice he offered regarding Bentley. But can I trust it? He had promised to never lie to me... But what if the promise itself was a lie?

Later:

"Words that are too flowery," I say as I pour tea at the cast-iron table in the garden.

"Too flowery?" Miss Penelope, my cousin and the daughter of the Luna and Alpha of Claybourne, asks. I've always envied her midnight-black hair, as it makes her blue eyes stand out.

"Yes, you know. Lots of adjectives and adverbs and pretty words."

"But I like pretty words," Miss Odette, sister to Alpha Somerdale, says. Her flaxen blond hair reminds me of wheat swaying in a field, and her eyes are a striking green.

"Yes, that's the whole point. That's why they use them, but if they do use them, then they don't truly have an interest in us."

"Where did you learn this?" Miss Melina Moondancer asks. As Hunter's half-sister, I can't exactly tell her the truth. She would undoubtedly confront her brother, and any hope I have of securing his assistance would be ruined. Melina's slightly darker complexion comes from having different fathers, I suppose. Her hair has a fine sheen of mahogany, and her eyes are as black as sin.

"A gentleman told me."

"Which gentleman?"

"It's not important who. He has a great deal of experience in the matter."

"Very well. I'll write it down, but it sounds like nonsense to me."

"You don't have to write it down."

"I thought we were going to publish a book to help ladies determine when a gentleman is only interested in their dowry. 'A She-Wolf’s Guide to Ferreting Out Fortune Hunters.'"

"Well, yes, but I don't know if we'll have enough material."

"I think we need to do it," Miss Odette says. "Even if it's just two pages. Look at Miss Sybil. Her husband nearly reduced her to tears last night at the ball because she wore a new gown in the same shade as his sister. Why would he care? If you ask me, he should prioritize his wife over his sister and tell her to change her dress."

"I always thought he was so nice," Melina says.

"We all did," I say firmly. "Last season, I even considered him as a serious suitor, but then I realized how fond Syb was of him. I feared I would lose her friendship if I encouraged him. Now, I feel rather guilty that she's with him."

"It's not your fault," Miss Penelope assures me. "I would have done the same in favor of a friend. That's why we must help each other identify the worst of the lot, so we can all avoid a similar fate filled with sorrow."

"I've heard something quite distressing," Miss Odette says. "But as it involves my dear friend Miss Chloe, you must promise not to tell a soul."

"We would never," Penelope says. "This round table is like the one at King Arthur's court. We are bound by honor to keep the secrets spoken here."

Melina laughs. "You're always so dramatic. You should consider going on stage."

"Don't think I haven't thought about it. I don't believe Father would mind. He doesn't care much about what others think. However, Mother is a different story. She says our behavior reflects not only on Father but also on Uncle." She gives me a meaningful look.

I shrug slightly. "I doubt Father would mind."

"I'll think about it if I don't find a suitor this mating season. Meanwhile, Odette, tell us about Chloe."

"Well," she glances around the garden, "she's been involved with Alpha Monroe since last mating season. They've been enjoying each other's company, but he hasn't proposed. If he doesn't, it will ruin her."

"Surely he will," I assure her. "If they're... well, you know, being close and all, it's only a matter of time."

"I've considered confronting him..."

"Not a good idea. You don't want to get involved."

"Yes, I suppose you're right." Miss Odette gazes out over the lawn. "Finding a good mate shouldn't be this difficult."

"Who are you going to choose?" Melina asks me.

"Oh, I have no idea. Perhaps the first one to send me my favorite flower."

"Your favorite flower? What does that have to do with anything?" Penelope questions.

"It's something my mysterious gentleman advisor told me. A man who truly loves me will know my favorite flower."

"I'll jot that down as well," Melina assures us. "Is this gentleman of yours happily married? I'm curious to know how he became such an expert."

"He's a widower."

She looks up. "So, he's old then?"

I force my expression not to give anything away. "Quite old. To a two-year-old, at least."

"I'd like to meet this mysterious gentleman of yours," Melina says.

"I'll see what I can arrange, but I must confess that he's not one for going out."

"So, he's decrepit too. Does he still have his wits about him? Can he remember how he got married?"

I fight to hide any sorrow as I reply, "He remembers everything quite clearly."