Fated by the Rival Alpha

I would rather die than sign peace with Blood Moon. That was what I told my beta, Cole, on the drive to Moon Summit. He had laughed like I was joking. I was not joking. Every bone in my body rejected the idea of sitting across a table from Alpha Magnus and pretending we were not enemies. But here I was. The summit hall was full of pack elders, warriors, and diplomats from both sides. Silver Fang on the left. Blood Moon on the right. And at the center table, two chairs facing each other like a standoff waiting to happen. I walked in and Magnus was already seated. He looked up the moment I entered. Dark eyes, sharp jaw, the kind of stillness that made other wolves nervous. He was big. I already knew that. We had fought at the border three years ago and neither of us had walked away clean. But sitting there in that hall, calm like he owned the air in the room, he looked different from the monster I had built in my head. I did not like that. I took my seat and said nothing. He said nothing. The elders opened the meeting and we both sat there like two wolves waiting for the other to blink first. "Alpha Kade." Elder Rowan slid the treaty document across the table. "We ask that you review and sign." I looked at the paper. Ten years of peace. Shared border rights. Joint patrols every quarter. My jaw tightened. "And if I refuse?" I asked. "Then three hundred wolves on both sides pay for your pride." Elder Rowan did not blink. "We have been at war long enough." I picked up the pen. Across the table, Magnus was already signing his copy. He did not even look up. Like this was nothing to him. Like ten years of blood between our packs meant nothing. "You seem relaxed," I said. He looked up then. Slow, like he had all the time in the world. "One of us has to be." I signed the paper. The hall erupted in applause. Elders shook hands. Warriors from both sides nodded at each other with the careful respect of people who had been trying to kill each other last winter. Someone brought out the blood wine. Old tradition. You seal a wolf treaty with a shared drink or it means nothing. Magnus poured two glasses and slid one toward me. "To peace," he said. I looked at the glass. Then at him. "To surviving it." He almost smiled. I did not know what to do with that so I drank. One glass became two. Two became I lost count. The blood wine was strong and the night was long and somewhere between the third toast and the elders singing old pack hymns, the room started to blur at the edges. The last thing I clearly remembered was Magnus saying something about the guest quarters. And me telling him I could walk fine on my own. I opened my eyes to sunlight and an unfamiliar ceiling. My head was heavy. My mouth tasted like iron and regret. I lay still for a moment trying to remember where I was and why my pillow felt warm. It was not a pillow. It was an arm. I looked down slowly. A large hand rested against my ribs. A chest rose and fell behind me. I did not have to turn around to know whose chest it was because I could already smell him. Cedarwood and something darker. Something that made my wolf sit up straight like an i***t. Magnus. I stopped breathing. His arm was around my waist. We were both shirtless. The blanket was pulled up to my chest and I had absolutely no memory of how any of this had happened. My wolf, the traitor, was perfectly calm. Comfortable even. Like this was exactly where we were supposed to be. I was going to lose my mind. I started to move and his arm tightened. Not rough. Just automatic. Like even in sleep he was holding on. "Magnus." My voice came out low. "Wake up." Nothing. "Magnus." I grabbed his wrist and pulled. "Get your arm off me right now." He stirred. A slow breath. Then he went still in that way that meant he was awake and aware before he opened his eyes. I had done enough border standoffs to recognize it. "Kade." His voice was rough from sleep. "Do not say my name like that. Move your arm." He moved it. Slowly. I sat up and swung my legs off the bed and stared at the wall trying to arrange my thoughts into something that made sense. Nothing made sense. My shirt was on the floor. His was beside it. The room was a guest suite in the summit hall and outside the window I could hear voices. Pack voices. Morning voices. I was not into men. I had never been into men a day in my life. So why was my wolf still sitting there looking pleased with himself like we had just done something right? I grabbed my shirt off the floor and pulled it on. Behind me I heard Magnus sit up. I did not turn around. "Nothing happened," I said. It came out more like a question than I wanted it to. "Nothing happened," he agreed. His voice was even. Unbothered. I hated that. I stood up and walked to the door. My hand was on the handle when I heard him. "Kade." I stopped. "Your wolf is louder than you think." There was something in his voice I could not name. Not a smirk. Not a taunt. Something quieter. "You should listen to him sometime." I opened the door and walked out. And right there in the hallway, three warriors from each pack stood frozen, staring at me like I had just walked out of the most interesting room in the world. The whispering started before I reached the end of the corridor.