The Alpha's Imported Luna

Chapter 3: The Alpha’s Burden

Christopher’s POV

"No."

The single word echoed through the office.

"Let them have the land."

A look of disbelief crossed Brandon's face.

"But Alpha, if we back down now, the Fyre Group will think they've won."

I leaned back in my chair and folded my arms.

"Then let them think they've won."

The room fell silent for a moment.

"But"

"Brandon."

My voice hardened.

The warning was clear.

"Are you questioning my decision?"

His expression immediately shifted.

"No, Alpha."

"Good."

My wolf stirred beneath my skin, irritated by his persistence. Lately, Brandon seemed to be forgetting that advice and insubordination were not the same thing.

"There is no reason for concern," I continued. "We're not fighting over a piece of land we don't need. Focus your energy elsewhere."

"Yes, Alpha."

The rest of the meeting proceeded without interruption.

Twenty minutes later, I stood from my chair.

"Meeting dismissed."

Chairs scraped against the floor as everyone filed out.

Before the last person reached the door, I mind-linked John.

Stay behind.

A quick nod confirmed he'd received the message.

I watched Brandon, my Delta, leave with the other ranked members. His recent behaviour concerned me, although admitting that, even to myself, felt disloyal.

Brandon had been part of Golden River for almost as long as I could remember.

He was eight years old when one of our patrols found him wandering near the northern boundary. His clothes were torn, he was starving, and he refused to tell anyone what had happened to his family.

My parents gave him sanctuary, and Golden River's head warrior at the time adopted him and became his guardian.

For the first few months, he barely spoke.

Then one afternoon, I found him sitting alone near the training field and challenged him to a race. He almost beat me, although I still suspected he had cheated.

After that, we became great friends.

We trained together.

Attended school together.

Got into trouble together.

Brandon was not my brother by blood, but Golden River had raised him as one of its own, and I had trusted him accordingly.

Perhaps that was why his recent resistance bothered me more than it should have.

Sean shifted uneasily inside my mind.

Something has changed in him.

People change, I reminded Sean.

Not always for the better.

Brandon had spent many years proving his loyalty. A few disagreements did not make him an enemy.

Still, I made a mental note to watch him more closely.

My gaze moved toward the old crest mounted on the far wall of my office.

The symbol had been recovered after the war with the Blackridge Pack, an enemy Golden River had defeated long before I became Alpha.

I had been a child then, but I remembered the night my father returned from the final battle.

Blood covered his clothes, and even as a child I understood how close he had come to dying.

Several warriors had not returned with him.

Blackridge had attacked settlements throughout the north, killing wolves and humans alike while attempting to seize neighbouring territories. My father had ended their campaign, and the surviving members scattered into rogue lands.

For years, we had heard rumours that a few remained.

Nothing had ever come of them.

The Council considered Blackridge dead along with their Alpha, Alpha Garrick..

My father did too.

But I had never forgotten the warning he gave me that night.

“Defeating a pack does not always destroy its hatred.”

The door closed and all the people departed from my office.

I turned toward John.

"Any new developments?"

John shrugged.

"Not much. Our sources say the Fyre Group intends to build a casino and entertainment complex."

A faint smile tugged at my lips.

"Exactly as expected."

John studied me.

"You seem awfully relaxed about this."

"Because they think we're competing for the property."

"We aren't?"

"No."

His eyebrows rose.

I leaned against my desk.

"The land was never our primary target. Let them waste resources protecting it."

A grin spread across his face.

"You enjoy playing these games far too much."

"Only when they're useful."

I picked up a file from my desk.

"Were the scouts able to identify alternative sites for our next development?"

"A few promising ones. The reports should be ready next week."

"Good."

My gaze drifted toward the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the pack grounds.

"Remember, I'm leaving for Jamaica on Thursday."

John's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

He chuckled.

"Because you ask that question as if I'm your assistant."

"Aren't you my Beta?"

"That's not remotely the same thing."

"Close enough."

"It is not."

I laughed.

One of the reasons John was my closest friend was because he never treated me differently because I was Alpha.

Most people walked on eggshells around me.

John never had.

"Everything is arranged," he said. "At least, that’s what Cameron said this morning."

"Good."

A thought occurred to me.

"Let's check in with George."

I picked up the office phone and dialed Jamaica.

George answered on the second ring.

"Hello, Alpha."

I sighed.

"George."

"Sorry."

"How many times have I told you not to call me Alpha when you're around humans?"

John smirked from across the room.

George immediately corrected himself.

"My apologies, Christopher."

"Better."

"How can I help?"

"I wanted an update."

"Everything is running smoothly. Invitations have gone out, and most of our VIP guests have confirmed."

"Who do we have attending?"

"The Prime Minister, the Minister of Tourism, several business leaders, members of the media, and representatives from various tourism organizations."

"Good."

The opening needed visibility.

Media attention translated into bookings.

Bookings translated into revenue.

"What about Saturday's gala?"

"We're expecting around three hundred guests. Most of the staff have accepted their invitations as well."

"And the budget?"

"No concerns there."

I glanced at John.

He was listening carefully.

"No cost overruns?" I asked.

George laughed.

"Not this time. We learned our lesson after the mall project."

"Good answer."

"We've also secured local entertainment for the evening."

"Excellent."

The conversation shifted for a few more minutes before returning to business.

Then George's tone softened.

"Thank you again for trusting me with this opportunity."

I leaned back in my chair.

"You earned it."

"I won't let you down."

"I know."

After ending the call, I sat quietly for a moment.

George sounded better.

Much better.

A year ago, losing his mate had nearly broken him.

She had rejected the bond and chosen another man instead.

Her high-school sweetheart.

George had respected her decision, but rejection cut deeply among our kind.

For months he had barely functioned.

Now he sounded like himself again.

Confident. Focused. Alive.

Maybe Jamaica had been exactly what he needed.

John interrupted my thoughts.

"So..."

I already knew where this was heading.

"No."

"You don't even know what I was going to ask."

"Yes, I do."

He grinned.

"Drinks tonight?"

"No."

"Women?"

"No."

"One woman?"

I stared at him.

John sighed dramatically.

"What happened to the fun version of Chris?"

"He grew up."

"That's a tragedy."

I shook my head.

"You sound like a teenager."

"I'm just trying to help you relax."

"And yet somehow you're making the opposite happen."

He laughed.

"Fine. Tomorrow night?"

I considered it.

Surely one evening wouldn't hurt.

"Tomorrow."

"There he is."

"I already regret agreeing."

John stood.

"I have young warriors training with the under-fourteen boys. Try not to bury yourself in paperwork."

"No promises."

With a wave, he disappeared through the door.

At twenty-eight years old, I had spent nearly half my life carrying responsibilities most people couldn't imagine.

I became Alpha of the Golden River Pack at twenty.

Five years later, my father retired from the Elle Group, leaving me in charge of the company as well.

Some people assumed leadership was about power.

It wasn't.

It was about responsibility.

Every decision carried consequences.

Every choice affected hundreds of lives.

As Alpha, my first responsibility was protecting my pack.

That meant knowing when to fight and when to walk away.

Too many leaders confuse pride with strength.

I never had.

My pack trusted me because they knew I wouldn't throw their lives away over something meaningless.

Our rules were simple.

Work hard.

Respect others.

Protect the pack.

Anyone who broke those rules faced consequences.

Minor violations earned temporary confinement.

Dangerous offenses often resulted in expulsion.

Fair. Firm. Necessary.

The Elle Group had begun with my parents.

My father built two successful hotels in Canada and named the company after my mother, Elle.

She loved travelling.

He loved her.

The name stuck.

Under my leadership, the business expanded aggressively.

A luxury resort in Greece. A boutique hotel in Paris. And now our newest venture:

The Colonial Oasis in Jamaica. Three years ago, I visited Montego Bay while searching for locations. The moment I arrived, my wolf stirred. Sean. He rarely reacted strongly to places.

People, yes. Territories, occasionally.

But never like this. The connection had been immediate. Almost impossible to ignore. By the end of the week, my team had narrowed our options to two oceanfront properties. The site in Ironshore captured my attention from the beginning.

I could see the vision before construction even started. White colonial architecture.

Tropical gardens. Luxury wrapped in history and elegance. An oasis.

Now, years later, that vision was finally becoming reality.

The company had grown far beyond hotels.

Commercial real estate, shopping centers, retail developments, we had our hands in nearly every major sector.

Our newest mall in New York housed one hundred retail spaces and was already outperforming expectations.

Back home, our Whitehorse mall remained a source of pride.

Much smaller with about Fifty stores.

Thirty owned by pack members.

I encouraged entrepreneurship whenever possible.

A strong pack wasn't built through dependence.

It was built through opportunity.

That philosophy had transformed Golden River over the years.

People didn't stay because they had to.

They stayed because they wanted to.

I glanced at the stack of reports waiting on my desk and sighed.

Three days.

In three days I'd be back in Jamaica.

Sean immediately stirred at the thought.

The reaction was so strong that I frowned.

"What's gotten into you?" I muttered.

The wolf didn't answer.

He merely paced restlessly beneath my skin.

For months he had been unusually interested in Jamaica.

More interesting than any piece of land should justify.

I didn't know why.

But I intended to find out.

I picked up the first report and got back to work.

The sooner I finished, the sooner I could leave for Montego Bay.