Fated To The Wrong Alpha

6

“What’s your name, little wolf?”

The words were barely more than a low rumble, so why did they hit me like a streak of liquid heat straight to my core?

I pursed my lips, stubbornly refusing to answer. Then he stepped forward, crowding into my personal space. He was close enough that the little hairs on the back of my arm brushed him, but nothing more. Not true contact. So why was my arm tingling like I’d stuck my finger in a light socket? Flustered again, I tipped my head back, looking up at his softening expression as he studied my face like he wanted to memorize it.

No, he doesn’t want you! He thinks you’re weak and unsuitable!

The little voice in the back of my head was still screaming at me, but when he lifted a large, tanned hand and offered it to me, palm up, my breath caught in my throat. My own hand floated up without my permission, hesitating briefly before sinking slowly down to brush against his waiting palm.

As soon as my fingertips brushed his calloused skin, I felt it. Heat. It exploded through me, feeling like a thousand stars bursting, flooding my veins at once. I gasped, pressing down into the sensation, and clasping his palm against my own.

He grunted, rocking back slightly on his heels, as we stood there like idiots, holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes.

“Hey, Brielle, what— Oh. Well, hello there, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Delicious. What’s your name?” Leigh’s flirtatious voice sent a prickle of unease through me, and I barely bit back a snarl at my best friend. When he stepped back and turned to answer her, he dropped my palm, and I felt the loss like a physical wound.

“Kane.”

The single word fell from his lips, but it didn’t click until I heard Shay’s soft gasp from behind Leigh.

Kane. I knew that name, even though I hadn’t placed it earlier in my anger. Kane, Kane…

The high alpha’s son.

Oh, Goddess.

SIX

Kane

B

rielle. The name sounded like sunshine and the ocean breeze, crisp and perfect, something I wanted to caress and savor on my tongue. It fit her, and it was burned into my memory right along with her facial expression when our skin touched for the first time. Pure, unadulterated bliss.

I’d felt the same, but had been unable to tear my eyes from her face, this complete stranger who had already sunk her claws straight into my heart.

How? How was it possible to feel such a soul-deep connection to a complete stranger? Yet I could no more deny it than I could my lungs their next breath. She… she was mine. My mate. But how could she be, when she’d never have the strength to lead a pack by my side? When I dropped her hand to face the curious she-wolf across the hall, reality had rushed right back in, souring the moment and my stomach along with it.

“Kane,” I answered her, though I felt the need to run straight into the woods and shift so I could sink into that animal oblivion. Become nothing more than paws and fur and fangs and claws, digging deep scratches into the earth as I pushed myself faster than my human body could ever go. Soon, I quieted the beast inside on instinct, though he was oddly calm given all that had just happened… content, even.

“Well, well, well… you are quite a specimen. And, Brielle, why are you wearing a towel? Inviting the studs home already? I’m proud.” The she-wolf gave Brielle an exaggerated wink, and she blushed profusely, the red creeping up her neck to her cheeks. “I’m Leigh. Nice to meet you.” She stepped forward boldly, ignorant to the earth-shattering moment her friend and I had just shared. It felt wrong, pressing my palm to hers in a handshake, but it would be rude of me to reject the offer of friendship.

When she gripped my hand, I felt nothing, but froze when an aggressive growl ripped from Brielle’s throat. I dropped Leigh’s hand immediately and spun back toward Brielle.

She slapped a hand over her mouth, clearly shocked at her own reaction. Without another word, she slammed and locked the door. My wolf hearing had no trouble picking up her footsteps running to the back of the room, and the slam of the bathroom door a moment later. When I turned back, Leigh and her silent friend were both staring at me, slack-jawed.

“You… you two are mates? And here I thought it was going to be Mr. Suit from check-in. You’re not at all her type, but I ship it.” She grinned, the expression somehow lascivious rather than friendly.

“Please keep this to yourself,” I said, adding a hint of alpha command to the words.

She frowned as she felt the compulsion, but didn’t argue. Couldn’t argue, and I felt like a jackass. But… I also wasn’t ready for all and sundry to know, and I didn’t think Brielle would be either. I needed time to process. And run, my wolf added, on his feet and prowling now that Brielle had hidden away from us.

“Have a good night,” I murmured and took my leave, the feeling of their eyes still burning my back as I reached the stairs and jogged down.

I ran, and I ran, and I ran. Trees blended together, melding into one endless mass of color at the edges of my vision, their unique scents coalescing into one beautiful melody of wilderness. It was where I was most comfortable, and I relished letting go, leaving the responsibility of being the high alpha’s heir behind. If I didn’t, It would crush me.

My wolf and I were a strong team, and I was grateful to have his sharper side when I needed to make tough decisions. He’d never steered me wrong, which was why his fixating on Brielle as our mate was so unexpected. She was wholly unsuitable, soft and pliant and intoxicating, yes; but even standing an inch from her, I could barely feel her wolf. She had one. Reed had seen her eyes light from within back at the clearing.

My wolf growled at the thought, still hating that Reed had something of our mate that we didn’t, even something as simple as the first glimpse of her wolf’s eyes.

Soon, I reassured him, and he ran faster before skidding around a tree and heading down a mountain, arrowing straight for the rivers’ confluence. The mighty Yukon and the Tanana cradled our territory, and the place where they met had a kind of power that no other did in this area. I hadn’t realized how far we’d run, but I could no more mistake the smell of that place than the smell of my own cabin.

My paws dug in as we ran downhill, sinking farther into the earth as my front paws bore my weight down. It wasn’t long before the rushing water grew louder and the trees broke, revealing the surging waters. It was home, in a way. And a power cradle. I didn’t know how or why, but I could sense it just the same. I’d often wondered if this was what drew me here to build a pack of my own. I slowed to a stop, tongue lolling, at the river’s edge. This place soothed me, it always had, and so long as my pack called Alaska home, I knew it always would.