The Alpha's Lottery

Chapter 2

---Lorenzo---

The faint, muffled sound of a woman’s distress drifted into my office from somewhere down the hall.

I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. My head was already pounding from staring at the numbers in front of me for too long. Normally, the hotel and restaurant financials were my safe haven—a quiet little island of order in the chaos of leadership. Numbers didn’t talk back. They didn’t argue or get offended. They were predictable. Add, subtract, balance, repeat.

If only being Alpha of Cold Ridge was that clean-cut.

A low moan reached my ears, followed by male voices—deep, rough—blending into a kind of low rumble. Then came the sharp, unmistakable sound of a slap.

I exhaled through my nose. “I need a break anyway,” I muttered, pushing my chair back.

Standing, I stretched my arms over my head, feeling my spine crack satisfyingly. My muscles ached from sitting too long, and from a morning that had already been far too long. My stainless-steel tumbler sat on the desk, still half-empty. Coffee was sounding better by the second.

The hallway outside my office led past the common area, a large open space with enough couches and chairs to fit a couple dozen people comfortably. That’s where the noise was coming from, of course. No doubt Yan and Tias were at it again—with Era.

They’d been glued to that woman since the day she arrived.

Era. Twenty-five, maybe. Dishwater blonde hair that she never quite managed to tame, curves that made my betas forget their own names, and a submissive streak that kept them endlessly entertained. She’d been here for the past month—on loan from Glacier Peak.

We called them “rabbits,” though in official Wolf Nation parlance they were “Companion Humans.” The reality? They were pets, playthings. Sometimes they were taken in deals, sometimes as spoils, sometimes as a “favor” between packs.

Not my favorite tradition, but it was the way of things.

I left the sounds of their “play” behind me and walked into the kitchen. Leaning over the center island, I rolled my shoulders to work out a stubborn knot between my shoulder blades.

Nox walked in a moment later, dirt-streaked jeans, heavy boots, and a plaid flannel shirt making him look like he’d stepped straight out of some old logging town.

“Sounds like quite a show in there,” I said, arching my back until it popped. “You going to, uh, partake?”

Nox just shrugged. “Giving those two a little break from the work detail. Figured you’d still be neck-deep in the numbers. Something going on?”

“No,” I said, straightening up. “Just the same, actually.” I tilted my head toward the rec room. “Those two know she’s got to go back in a couple of days, don’t they?”

Her owner, Collin Wick, Alpha of Glacier Peak, had sent word two days ago. Era would be collected soon. I’d never touched her—and I never would—but even I could admit it would be strange not seeing her trotting through the lodge anymore. She had that way of keeping her eyes down but blushing if she caught me looking. She smiled like she wanted to hide it but couldn’t help herself.

Nox smirked faintly. “Oh, they know. I suspect Yan and Tias are going to run our little rabbit ragged before they have to give her up. It’s going to be a long, exhausting forty-eight hours for that girl.”

“Good. They deserve it.” I clapped him on the shoulder. “How’s the clearing going?”

The three of them—Nox, Yan, and Tias—had been handling spring thinning of the forest lands around the lodge and along Highway 22-D. It was one of the few human innovations I actually respected: cut back the overgrowth now to stop fires later. Even the wolves had adopted it after the Treaty of Breckinridge.

Another sound came from the rec room—Era’s voice this time, high and broken, followed by the low murmur of one of my men. “…All the way, slut…” The rest was too quiet to make out.

I shook my head. “What are they going to do with themselves when she’s shipped back to Wick’s pack?”

“They’ll find something—or someone,” Nox replied.

“Tell you what,” I said, pointing at him. “When those two are done, bring them to my office. We need to go over the trip plans. Security and contingencies. Nothing the rabbit needs to hear.”

“Anything you’re worried about?” he asked, watching me closely.

I hesitated. There were things I didn’t want to say yet—not until I was sure. “Specific concerns? No. But auctions are always dangerous. We need to be prepared. We leave in three days, so it’s time to finalize everything.”

Nox nodded and headed back toward the rec room, calling something to the others as he went.

I took my coffee refill and made my way back to my office. The polished floorboards creaked under my steps, the familiar sound settling in my bones.

It was going to be a long day. And unlike my betas, I didn’t have the luxury of a warm body to lose myself in before it was over.

Maybe it was time to change that.