The Ash Witch and the Alpha

Mine

Tristan was content with his life. He spent his days taking care of his pack, being an alpha was in his blood, it was everything he had wanted. He enjoyed running with his pack at least once a week, dealing with the petty drama at the pack house, knowing that people relied on him and trusted him. There were whispers of course, where was the Crescent pack’s luna? He was the only alpha in the state who did not find their mate at his age. He gained his wolf eight years ago, traveled from pack to pack, building relationships and meeting she-wolves, but no luck. Tristan comforted himself that while having a marked mate would give him strength, he was already stronger than the average alpha and secure in his position. His younger brother could lead, if need be, so his family legacy was secure.

So he never expected to find his mate in the most unlikely of places. Tristan was escorting a group of pups to the local farmer’s market, helping the teachers and a few parent volunteers to keep the middle school aged children in line. He was wandering, really, when the wind shifted and he smelled her, crisp autumn leaves and utter comfort. Tristan followed the scent, expecting a wolf, never a witch. Witches had a slight glow to them, only perceived by the supernatural, and she was sparkling. His wolf was howling at him, take her, mark her, f**k her, insistant and repetitive. He balled his fists to the point he could feel the blood pooling under his nails, trying to focus on reading the labels on the jar before him.

“If you have a bath tub, those salts are great for the muscles.” When she spoke, he knew he could never go a day without hearing her voice again. “Although you’ll smell like lavender, which is cool if you’re into that. I also have a teatree one, a little more masculine.” He grinned at her and bought her out on all her bath salts, no matter the scent.

Tristan tried to flirt with her but she sort of smiled at him, guarded and uninterested, obviously unaware that the moon goddess had gifted her to him. He was lost in the idea of her ever since, he had spent a week trying to be content just watching her, but his wolf was insistent. Every morning, he would wake up, curled up n***d at the edge of her protected territory, his wolf had watched her all night, taking over when he was asleep. He looked like s**t returning to the pack house, and everyone saw it. A pack was only as strong as their alpha and concern was growing.

It was his brother, Tanner, who had brought in a witch he knew, introduced her to Tristan and offered to help. “She’s an ash witch, she has no coven, no one to protect her but herself. For a fee, I can erect wards to block her magic.” The woman, Roxy, spat the words, disgust clear in her voice. Tristan asked around and found out from older wolves why his mate was looked down upon: an Ash witch had no coven. A coven was seen as a burning flame, each witch fueling the fire with their blood, an ash witch was called such because just as a fire burns, ash is given off and at times, can ignite a witch with no connection to others. There was magic in her bloodline, for sure, but no direct maternal ancestry to connect her to a coven.

Tristan had to get pack approval for such an expense, there were whispers but everyone agreed they needed a luna. So the alpha suite was warded off, no magic would work within the walls and only he could enter or exit the room. Then, it became a waiting game. He spent another week watching her, observing the things she liked, he made sure to have clothes in the closet she would like, food stocked in the kitchen to be made for her, he even bought copies of books he had seen her read and read them himself so they had things to discuss. Tristan wasn’t a fool who thought himself so easily loved, he knew the road ahead, but Diana was worth it, his pack’s need for a luna was worth it. So when she left her wards to pick herbs that grew just outside her property, he struck. He pinned her to the ground, wincing as he smelled her blood from her head smacking on a tree, and injected her quickly with the sedative. Roxy had been very clear, it would take three to five days to allow her magic to drain completely within the wards, so he kept her sedated for a week to be safe.

In the days that followed, he was cautious, she hated him and he did not blame her, in a way, he hated himself for doing this. But the way his wolf rejoiced in her presence, the way her smell filled what used to be his room, made it worth it. Tristan just had to be patient, he would not mark her until she gave permission, he owed her that at least. But now that he had her, he could not let her go either.

Tristan stroked her hair out of her face as she slept, yearning for the day he would sleep beside her. But for now, he was content to simply have her, knowing that soon enough, she would have him as well.