The Luna's Reluctant Alpha

Chapter Two

KAI

Cedar Creek always struck that perfect balance between the quaint charm of a small town and the vibrant buzz of a college football stronghold. On any given morning, the air was crisp, laced with the scent of pine and earth, occasionally mingled with the tantalizing aroma of bacon from Ma's Diner down on Main Street. People here were a close-knit bunch, a community bound not just by geography but by the shared rhythm of life that revolved around football seasons and pack gatherings.

Mornings began early for me. Before dawn even had a chance to c***k, I'd already be up, lacing my running shoes, ready to tear through the trails that wound around Cedar Creek like veins. This wasn't just about keeping in shape for football; it was my time to connect with Thunder, my inner wolf who always seemed to have more opinions than I cared for at that ungodly hour.

"You're slacking, Kai," Thunder would chide as we took on the steep incline near Miller's Hill. I could almost hear his growl in my head, pushing me to dig deeper, run faster.

The workout was just the start. Showered and dressed in my usual campus attire—jeans and a hoodie emblazoned with our team's logo—I'd hop into my old red truck, feeling its engine rumble to life like an old friend waking up. The drive to Caitlin's house was short, but it gave me time to shift gears mentally from Alpha responsibilities to pretending I was just another college guy.

Caitlin would be waiting outside her house, dressed in her cheerleader outfit, phone glued to her hand as she scrolled through what I assumed were important social updates. She'd flash me that practiced smile as she hopped into the truck.

"Big game on Friday," she'd say as if I needed reminding. "You're gonna crush them."

"Isn't that the plan every week?" I'd quip back, trying not to let on how much those games meant more than just winning or losing.

Campus life was another world entirely—a place where textbooks and lectures tried to compete with the call of the wild that always lingered at the back of my mind. Friends like Jason would slap me on the back as we walked through the halls.

"Ready for Dr. Miller's pop quiz today?" Jason would ask with a smirk.

"I eat pop quizzes for breakfast," I'd respond, matching his smirk with one of my own.

Even surrounded by humans in class, I could never fully shake off being an Alpha. My senses were always on high alert—scanning for threats or challenges—even if those threats were just sleep-deprived students fueled by caffeine and determination.

Once classes wrapped up, it was back to pack business. The drive from campus to our pack lands gave me time to switch personas again—from student and quarterback to acting Alpha. Pulling up behind my father's mansion where I lived in a modest cottage out back felt like stepping into another life—a life filled with expectations and weighty decisions.

Nala greeted me at the door with her usual warmth. Her presence was comforting in ways few things were these days.

"Your father is waiting in his study," Nala would inform me while handing over a plate stacked with sandwiches—her way of making sure I didn't skip meals with my hectic schedule.

"Thanks, Nala," I'd say before asking how Connor's science project turned out or if Lindsey had won her spelling bee—family stuff that mattered more than any Alpha meeting.

My afternoons typically involved meetings about pack security or territory issues. Today was no different as Miles and Randall joined me in Dad's study—a room filled with maps and reports that spoke of ongoing vigilance against threats like rogue wolves.

Miles had this authoritative air about him that demanded respect without needing words. His presence alone reinforced the importance of these meetings.

"We've had sightings near the eastern border," Miles would report gravely. "Could be rogues testing our defenses."

Randall nodded in agreement, his face etched with concern. "We need increased patrols," he suggested firmly. "Can't let them think Cedar Creek's gone soft."

Their advice was invaluable; they were veterans who knew this pack inside out—its strengths and vulnerabilities. And while I might have been acting Alpha, they provided a foundation I leaned on more often than not.

As dusk settled over Cedar Creek and shadows lengthened across the football field during practice, I found myself caught between worlds once again—the adrenaline rush of throwing a perfect spiral mingling with strategic thoughts about pack safety protocols.

Coach Harrington would blow his whistle, calling an end to practice while shouting reminders about staying focused for Friday's game—a mantra he repeated so often it could've been carved into every locker room wall across America.

But when everyone else headed home or out for some post-practice socializing, I remained on the field a little longer—letting Thunder stretch his legs in private where no one could see us blur into one entity: man and wolf playing under stadium lights as we prepared for whatever lay ahead in both our worlds.

***

A blur of golden fur streaked past me, a giggle echoing through the thicket as I leaped over a fallen log, hot on the tail of my half-sister Lindsey. In this form, our conversations were silent, a symphony of thoughts and emotions buzzing between us. Lindsey's glee was as palpable as the forest scents that flooded my senses.

"Can't catch me, Kai!" her voice sang in my mind.

"Oh, we'll see about that, Lindz!" I retorted with a mental chuckle.

My larger black wolf form, Thunder embodied, easily outpaced her smaller cub form. But today wasn't about winning; it was about playing the doting brother. I let her think she had the upper hand, nipping playfully at her heels as we darted through the woods behind our family home.

A sudden burst of green and brown whizzed by as Connor joined the chase, his own laughter mingling with Lindsey's. Coco toddled behind on stubby legs, trying her best to keep up. The sight would have melted any heart, werewolf or not.

"Hey, no fair! Two against one!" I protested playfully.

"We're teaching you about pack tactics," Connor shot back with youthful bravado.

As we romped through the underbrush, Amelia watched from a distance, a soft smile on her face. She was always happiest when we were all together like this—her family whole and joyful. I slowed to a trot and approached her side, shifting back into human form with practiced ease.

Amelia's hand reached out to ruffle my hair affectionately as I stood before her in all my two-legged glory. "You're going easy on them," she observed with a knowing glance.

"They need to think they can win sometimes," I said with a wink. "Builds character."

Her laughter was warm as sunlight. "And what about your character? Still planning on med school?"

I stretched my limbs and nodded. "That's the dream." My gaze wandered to where Dad used to watch us train. "But it depends on how things go with Dad."

Amelia's expression softened. "He'd want you to follow your heart."

"Yeah," I agreed, though my heart felt heavy with duty. "If he gets better."

She squeezed my shoulder reassuringly before turning to watch Coco tumble into a pile of leaves. Nala approached us then, her wise eyes reflecting years of watching over our family.

"You've grown so much since you were that size," Nala commented with a fond smile in my direction.

I grinned at the memories she evoked. "I remember you chasing me around just like that."

She chuckled and shook her head. "You were always more interested in exploring than staying put."

"That hasn't changed much," Amelia added with an amused glance at me.

Our banter was interrupted by Coco barreling into my legs with a gleeful yip, effectively toppling me over into the foliage beside her.

"Gotcha!" she declared triumphantly.

"Indeed you did," I laughed as I sat up and lifted her onto my shoulders. Her giggles filled the air while Amelia and Nala shared an affectionate look.

After setting Coco down again to rejoin the others' game, Amelia's tone shifted subtly toward seriousness. "And Caitlin? How are things there?"

I stiffened at the mention of Caitlin—my promise to Quentin always loomed large—but today wasn't about heavy burdens or uneasy hearts.

"It's... complicated," I finally answered after a beat too long.

Amelia gave me that Luna look—the one that saw right through pretense—and sighed gently. "You can't live someone else's destiny for them."

"I know," I said quietly, watching Connor pounce on an unsuspecting Lindsey in mock battle. My responsibilities were like a second skin—one I couldn't simply shed because it grew tight or uncomfortable.

"You should talk to your father about it," Amelia suggested softly.

The very thought knotted my stomach but I nodded anyway. There was no escaping some conversations—no matter how much you wished you could run like the wind through these woods and never look back.

For now though, I pushed those thoughts aside and focused on being here—on laughter and lightness and love—the best parts of being an Alpha and a big brother.

Turning back to Amelia and Nala with a renewed grin, I asked cheekily, "Any other pressing issues or can I go reclaim my title as unbeatable champion?"

Amelia rolled her eyes but there was mirth dancing in them too. "Go on then—show them how it's done."

With another quick shift into wolf form—a swirl of darkness amidst dappled sunlight—I bounded back into playtime fray with Thunder's strength fueling every leap and bound. And for just this moment—all complications aside—I reveled in the simple joy of family ties and forest games; favorite parts of any day worth living for.

***

A pack meeting isn't my idea of a good time, but with the town on edge and the rogue wolves getting bolder by the day, these gatherings have become as regular as clockwork. The atmosphere in the room was tense, the air heavy with concern and a trace of that sharp metallic scent that screams 'danger'.

Dad sat at the head of the table, his once commanding presence diminished by injury but not by spirit. He looked tired, worn out from battling whatever curse that damn weapon inflicted on him. Yet there was still a fire in his eyes that made it clear he wasn't giving up anytime soon. His gaze swept over his security team—Mark, Randall, Ramon, and Miles—as well as Sheriff Henderson and Deputy Mike who represented the human law enforcement in Cedar Creek.

I stood just behind my father's chair, Marcus and Jason flanking me like loyal shadows. We were the muscle, the younger generation ready to jump into action at a moment's notice. It was our job to make sure nothing got past this room that could threaten our people.

"So," Dad started, his voice still carrying that authoritative tone that demanded attention, "what's the latest?"

Randall leaned forward first. His face was a mask of seriousness as he spoke. "We've had three more sightings since last week. Two near the northern border and one just outside town. It's clear they're probing our defenses."

Mark nodded along to Randall's report, his hands folded neatly on the table. "The traps we've set up have been triggered, but no catches yet. They're cleverer than we gave them credit for."

Miles chimed in with a growl rumbling in his chest. "They might be clever, but they're also getting desperate. That makes them dangerous."

Sheriff Henderson added his piece with a grimace etched into his rugged features. "The humans are starting to notice something's off. Reports of dead livestock, 'large coyotes' and 'strange howling' are becoming more frequent."

Deputy Mike glanced around at us wolves before continuing where Henderson left off. "We've managed to keep a lid on things so far, but if this escalates... I gotta say, the rogues make y'all look really bad."

His words hung in the air like an unsaid prayer we all shared—that it wouldn't come to that.

Jason leaned over to me, his voice low enough for only my ears. "We need to do something soon, Kai. Before panic sets in."

I nodded subtly in agreement, feeling Thunder stir within me at the prospect of action.

Ramon spoke up then, his voice quiet but steady as always. "The southern trails need reinforcing. I can take a team out at dawn to—"

Dad cut him off with a raised hand and an apologetic look. "Hold that thought." He turned his attention back to Randall. "What about patrols?"

"We're stretched thin as it is," Randall replied with a sigh that spoke volumes of sleepless nights and constant vigilance.

My gaze drifted across the faces around me—weathered lines of worry etched into each one—and I knew I couldn't sit back any longer.

"Let me lead a patrol," I offered before I could stop myself.

All eyes turned to me, some surprised, others assessing.

Dad considered me for a long moment before nodding slowly. "Alright." He seemed relieved I'd stepped up but wary too; he knew better than anyone what it meant to carry such responsibility.

Marcus nudged my arm with a grin that spoke of his excitement for action. He was ready for whatever came our way.

Jason gave me a thumbs-up from behind Mark's chair, always my number one hype man even when things looked grim.

I straightened up, feeling Thunder's approval coursing through my veins like liquid fire.

"We'll cover more ground if we split into smaller teams," I suggested with more confidence than I felt.

Mark interjected with wisdom gleaned from years of experience beyond my own twenty-one years of life. "Smaller teams are more vulnerable."

I met his gaze squarely and nodded acknowledgment of his point. It was valid—solid advice from someone who had seen more battles than most.

Sheriff Henderson leaned back in his chair with arms crossed over his chest—a human amidst wolves yet holding his own without question or fear.

"If you're gonna go splitting up," he said thoughtfully, "you'll need all the help you can get."

I sensed an unspoken offer there—one I didn't intend to refuse.

"We appreciate any assistance you can provide," I responded diplomatically while making a mental note to follow up personally later.

Deputy Mike nodded approvingly at this exchange—a subtle alliance forming between pack and town.

As discussions continued around possible strategies and tactics against our feral adversaries, my mind whirred with plans and possibilities—each scenario playing out like chess moves in my head.

The meeting droned on as we dissected every report, every theory on what these rogues wanted and how best to protect Cedar Creek from their threat.

And then Dad said something that cut through all other noise like a blade through silence: "This isn't just about defense anymore." He paused as if gathering strength before delivering his next words like an edict carved in stone. "We need to take the fight to them."

A murmur rippled through the room—a mix of approval and apprehension—as everyone digested this shift from reactive to proactive stance against our unseen enemy.

I felt Thunder bristle with eagerness inside me; he'd been itching for this fight since day one when Dad first got hurt by those bastards' cursed weapon.

My father looked each member of our team in the eye then settled on me last—the unspoken passing of a torch felt heavy in my hands even though no physical object was exchanged between us.

He gave me a slight nod—a mixture of pride and warning—and I understood then what was being asked of me: not just leadership or bravery but wisdom too; knowing when to strike and when to hold back for the good of all involved.

This pack meeting might not have been my idea of fun...but damn if it wasn't necessary—for all our sakes.