The Luna's Reluctant Alpha

Chapter Twelve

KAI

The chill of the night seeped into my bones, but it was nothing compared to the coldness in Alexis's voice. Her words hung in the air, a bitter reminder of the tangled web I found myself caught in. "I really hope you're not my fated mate." That sting, that raw ache, it didn't just resonate within me—it reached Thunder too.

I dragged my feet back to my cottage, a pace unbecoming of an Alpha. The forest seemed to swallow my turmoil, offering no solace as I walked under its canopy. My phone was heavy in my pocket, a technological tether to a reality I wasn't ready to face. Still, I pulled it out, the screen lighting up with a reminder of the inevitable. 11:59 PM. In less than a minute, Alexis would officially be 18.

Thunder rumbled within me, a storm of emotions brewing beneath my stoic exterior. We both knew Alexis was our fated mate; it was as clear as the moon hanging high above. Yet her rejection wasn't just about what she wanted or didn't want—it was about who I was and the actions I'd taken.

Marcus had been the one to spill it to me earlier, his face grim as he relayed Tyler's account of Caitlin's latest cruelty. My gut twisted at the image of Alexis being humiliated like that—in front of everyone at school, no less—with Caitlin pouring soda over her head like she was some kind of joke.

It made me sick to think that someone I cared for could be so vindictive. And what did that say about me? About the company I kept? About the promises I'd made?

I had always prided myself on being different from my father. He had abandoned his wife and pup when his fated mate appeared, casting them aside without a second thought. The memory still burned with betrayal and resentment—a young boy left to grapple with a mother's heartbreak.

I had vowed never to follow in those footsteps, never to be swayed by the pull of destiny at the expense of those I'd sworn to protect and care for. Yet here I was, on the cusp of adulthood, feeling that inexorable draw toward Alexis—toward my fated mate—and away from Caitlin.

I reached my cottage and stood outside for a moment, staring at the wooden door as if it held answers. The clock on my phone flipped to midnight, and somewhere in town Alexis Kim crossed that intangible threshold into her destiny—a destiny inexplicably linked with mine.

I couldn't deny the truth any longer. Mother Moon had chosen for me, for us. But unlike my father, I couldn't just walk away from my responsibilities, from my promises.

Thunder paced restlessly within me; even he understood the weight of our choices—the gravity of our promises. It was one thing to accept your fated mate when circumstances aligned like stars in the night sky. It was another thing entirely when accepting meant unraveling commitments and breaking vows.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding and stepped inside my cottage. The silence greeted me like an old friend—one who knew all your secrets and still offered refuge without judgment.

Caitlin's image flickered in my mind—the girl who'd lost her brother and relied on me ever since. We weren't bound by fate's hand but by a dying boy's last wish—a wish that became an oath etched into my very soul.

But then there was Alexis—unexpectedly fierce and yet so vulnerable under that veneer of strength she wielded like armor. She challenged me without even trying; she stirred something deep within that both Thunder and I couldn't ignore.

I sank onto the couch and buried my face in my hands. It wasn't just about what I wanted or what Thunder craved—it was about honor and integrity. Could I really look at myself in the mirror if I discarded Caitlin like yesterday's news? And could I live with myself if I ignored the call of destiny?

My phone vibrated on the table next to me—messages from Marcus checking in, Jason asking if everything was okay after tonight's patrol. They all went unanswered as I grappled with choices that felt more like chains.

"Damned if you do, damned if you don't," Thunder murmured inside me, voicing what we both felt.

Alexis didn't want a fated mate who came with baggage and broken promises—I understood that now more than ever. And maybe she saw something in me that reminded her too much of past hurts or unwanted ties binding her down.

I stood up abruptly and walked over to the window, gazing out into the night where shadows danced between moonbeams—where answers played hide-and-seek among doubts and fears.

No matter how much it hurt or how much it cost us both, this wasn't just about fates colliding—it was about being true to oneself above all else.

Thunder settled somewhat inside me—a quiet understanding taking root amidst turmoil—as we both realized we couldn't run from who we were meant to be or from whom we were meant to be with... even if it meant walking through fire first.

***

The incessant ticking of the clock was the only sound in my darkened room. Each tick was a reminder of her words, a stinging rebuke that burrowed deep into my thoughts. "I really hope you're not my fated mate." Alexis's voice reverberated through the stillness, a haunting refrain that kept sleep at bay. Thunder rumbled his disapproval from within, a constant presence echoing my own turmoil.

As dawn painted the sky with strokes of pink and orange, I rolled out of bed, muscles tense, eyes gritty from lack of sleep. I couldn't shake her from my mind. The frustration simmered beneath my skin like a fever.

I met Jason and Marcus at the training grounds as the sun crested the horizon. The impact of fists and feet against training pads was a welcome distraction. I threw myself into each movement with a ferocity that bordered on reckless, each strike an attempt to purge her image, her words from my mind.

"Easy, man," Jason grunted as I landed a particularly vicious blow on the sparring pad he held. "You trying to send me flying?"

I didn't respond, just pivoted and launched another series of strikes. Marcus watched with a raised eyebrow but said nothing. He knew better than to interrupt when I was in this kind of mood.

Training stretched on, sweat mingling with the dirt kicked up from our scuffles until it formed streaks on my skin. The physical exertion drained some of the tension from my limbs but did little to quiet Thunder's restlessness or my racing thoughts.

Patrol was next on the agenda—a routine sweep through Cedar Creek's outskirts where rogue activity had spiked recently. But today, routine was the last thing on my mind.

We cornered a pair of rogues by mid-morning. They snarled and snapped like cornered animals, but they were no match for us. My tackles were harder than necessary; each takedown carried an edge sharpened by frustration and fatigue.

Johnny Chen watched from a few feet away as we secured the rogues. His eyes widened when one particularly harsh move sent one crumpling to the ground with a yelp.

"Dude," Johnny whistled as he approached, his usual calm demeanor replaced by disbelief. "You're usually tough but fair—what's got you acting like you've got something to prove?"

I ignored his question, brushing past him as I handed off the subdued rogues to be taken to the infirmary for treatment. My hands were shaking slightly—not from exertion but from an anger I couldn't fully comprehend or control.

By late afternoon, I found myself walking aimlessly through the woods, seeking solace in their familiar embrace. Without conscious thought, my feet carried me along the stream that ran parallel to the Kim household.

I sank down onto a moss-covered rock and pulled out a six-pack of beer I'd grabbed from my fridge earlier. The first can opened with a hiss that seemed disproportionately loud in the quiet forest.

I didn't usually drink alone—didn't much care for drinking at all—but today called for something to dull the edges of my consciousness.

A soft rustling caught my attention just as dusk began to settle over Cedar Creek like a blanket. Through narrowed eyes, I watched Alexis step out of her house, looking around as if drawn by some unseen force.

She hesitated when she saw me but then approached with measured steps. "Got another one?" Her voice was steady, but there was an undercurrent there that hinted at nerves—or maybe it was anticipation.

Wordlessly, I handed her a can. She popped it open and took a sip, her face scrunching up immediately after.

"I've never liked beer," she admitted with a grimace as she forced another swallow down. "But hey, it's my birthday."

We talked then—about nothing and everything all at once—about her day filled with celebrations and Korean BBQ with friends and family, about my day fraught with confrontations and bottled-up frustrations.

The conversation was easy—a comfort I hadn't realized I'd been missing until now—our unspoken bond humming between us like an electric current neither of us dared acknowledge.

Suddenly Alexis stiffened beside me; her hand shot out to grip my arm tightly enough to bruise as she dropped her beer can with a clatter against rocks below.

Her body curled inward instinctively as an agonized growl ripped from her throat—a sound that chilled me to the bone despite never having heard it before. It could only mean one thing: her first shift was upon her.

Instinct kicked in over shock; she needed her Alpha now more than ever.

I moved closer to her writhing form on instinct alone, offering whispered assurances while mentally preparing myself for what was about to come—a painful transformation that required guidance only someone who had been through it themselves could provide.

The next minutes stretched into eternity; sweat beaded on Alexis's forehead as muscles contorted beneath skin that shimmered between forms—human and wolf vying for dominance within her being.

And there I remained by her side through it all—offering strength where hers faltered—until finally, she lay before me not as Alexis Kim but as Sasha: magnificent in form, trembling from exertion yet undeniably triumphant in her first shift into wolf form under the waxing moonlight.

***

Restlessness had become a familiar, unwelcome companion these past nights, prowling through my thoughts with the persistence of a hungry wolf. The digits on the clock blurred as I tossed yet again in my bed, the sheets a tangled testament to my unease. It wasn't just the weight of leadership that gnawed at me; it was her—Alexis—stalking the edges of my consciousness, her image seared into my eyelids every time I sought the solace of sleep.

Thunder rumbled in disapproval within me, but even he couldn't deny the magnetic pull she had on us. With a sigh that felt like surrender, I swung my legs off the bed and resigned myself to another sleepless venture.

The packhouse basement was quiet, save for the muted shuffling of cards and the occasional low murmur of conversation. Gary Wilkins, his throat scarred from battles long past, sat across from Stu, another beta whose laughter lines deepened with every hand he played. The pair looked up as I descended the stairs, their expressions shifting to one of surprise and then understanding. It wasn't often that I joined them in these late hours.

Cissy and Casey lay in their separate cells, twins bound by more than just blood—now by circumstance too. Their chests rose and fell in the deep rhythm of sleep, a peace that eluded me. Mark and Lisa had agreed to take them in; their kindness was a beacon of hope in these trying times. My heart eased at the thought of the pups finding a home after such turmoil.

My gaze lingered on them before sliding to the cell holding our more troublesome guest. The old rogue seemed content in his confinement—a strange sight given his predicament—but then again, madness often danced hand in hand with unpredictability. With a nod to Gary and Stu, I pulled up a chair and joined their game. The familiar snap and flick of cards were grounding—a simple pleasure amid chaos.

Stu grinned as he cracked open the fridge and pulled out a six-pack. "Thought you might need this," he said, tossing me a cold beer.

I caught it with one hand, the chill seeping into my skin. "Thanks," I grunted, popping the cap and taking a long swig. The bitter taste was grounding.

Gary dealt the next hand, his movements efficient despite his injury—a reminder that strength wasn't solely measured by prowess on the battlefield. Stu watched me over his cards, his eyes crinkling with mirth or perhaps mischief.

"So," he started casually as he laid down his bet, "what's got our fearless leader prowling around at night like a restless cub?"

The question was innocent enough, but it prodded at the very thing I was trying to escape from. Thunder growled lowly within me; we were both on edge.

"Just got things on my mind," I said evasively.

Stu nodded as if he understood everything that went unsaid between us—maybe he did. Betas had an uncanny way of reading between the lines.

The game continued with idle chatter filling in the gaps between hands. Stu told stories that made Gary's silent chuckles shake his broad shoulders while I listened and laughed when appropriate—yet my thoughts remained tethered to Alexis.

It was maddening how she'd crept into every facet of my life without even trying. She challenged every belief I held about fated mates and what they represented—about promises made and futures written in stars or moonlight or whatever poetic nonsense people believed in.

My phone buzzed from my pocket—an incoming text breaking through my reverie. Caitlin's name flashed on the screen followed by words tinged with possessiveness: Where are you? Her concern barely masked an underlying demand for attention.

I typed out a reply with fingers that felt too large for such delicate work: Busy with pack stuff. It wasn't a lie but it wasn't entirely true either—I could have been with her if I wanted to be.

Gary won another hand with an ease that suggested luck was nothing compared to experience—a lesson there for those willing to learn it.

The hours waned as we played on, each hand dealt bringing us closer to dawn. My mind found respite in the routine shuffle-cut-deal rhythm, giving me something other than Alexis to focus on—at least for now.

With each beer drained and each laugh shared over ridiculous bluffs gone wrong or right depending on who you asked, I found myself clinging to this semblance of normalcy like driftwood in a stormy sea. It anchored me here—in this moment—away from responsibilities and complicated emotions tied up in brown eyes and stubborn determination.

Yet even as I sat there among friends turned family by virtue of pack bonds and shared history, part of me longed to be elsewhere—to give into instinct rather than duty or fear or pride—and seek out Alexis once more... But duty held firm tonight; duty always held firm for an Alpha—even when everything else beckoned him toward recklessness.

The game ended without fanfare; we'd all played until our eyelids grew heavy with impending sleep or maybe just weariness from lives lived too full too fast. Gary rose first, giving me a look that spoke volumes before he lumbered off to catch what rest he could before morning duties called him forth once again.

Stu clapped me on the shoulder as he stood up next, leaving behind laughter lines etched deeper into his face by another night spent well despite everything—or perhaps because of it.

"Get some rest," he advised before heading up the stairs after Gary—the echo of his footsteps fading away like so many things we wish would stay but know must leave us eventually... Like sleep... Like peace... Like certain brown-eyed girls who should have never meant anything but somehow meant everything...

I remained seated at that table long after they left—alone with thoughts no card game could chase away completely... No amount of beer could drown out... No company could distract from...

Eventually though—I too would rise—and face whatever came next because that's what Alphas do—they face things—even when facing them feels like facing down your own heart beating outside your chest... Vulnerable... Terrifying... Inevitable...

But not tonight... Tonight—I sat—and waited—for morning—for certainty—for anything other than what was consuming me from inside out...