The Alpha's Rival

July 2022 Running a hand through his coarse brown hair, Mitch Hawthorne glanced up at the sun peeking through the branches before sitting down next to his father’s grave. Studying the front of the headstone, he sighed and shook his head. Alpha Daniel Hawthorne Beloved Father and Leader 1945 - 2022 The back of the headstone was no better. A few quotes that his father said more often than not graced the back followed by a picture of the man himself. A touching tribute really, but it was made by people that only saw one side of him, the public side. Mitch knew better though. Daniel Hawthorne had been a power-hungry man, doing anything and everything he could to stay in power. Even when his health had started to wane with age, he had refused to hand any of his power down to his only son who would precede him in death. So when Mitch had stepped into his father’s place, he had no idea what he was doing. Thankfully, Tate Robinson and his beta, Greg, had been around to help guide him through his first couple of weeks. Things were better now, but only just. If he didn’t get a hang of running the pack soon, they’d crash and burn and he’d be out of a job before he could even apologize. “f**k you, dad,” Mitch said emphatically, spitting on the neatly manicured grass in front of the tombstone. “f**k all the way off.” Clenching his jaw, his anger bubbling just under the surface of his skin, he turned to look at the clearing where the battle had happened. Just beyond was the Nightstalkers’ territory. “f**k you, too, Robinson!” he hissed, wishing Robinson had left his beta with him for a few more weeks. He hadn’t been ready to run things on his own when they had left, but he had understood why they had both gone. They were rebuilding their pack from the ground up after Blackfur had wiped half of their pack out and burnt everything they had come in contact with to the ground. It was a barren wasteland out there. Or at least it had been. Robinson’s mate had done a fantastic job at helping rebuild what had been lost. As if the wind had blown out of his sails, Mitch deflated and sagged against his father’s tombstone. “f**k you, too, Kelly,” he whispered, pulling a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket to study it for what felt like the thousandth time. Please join us in celebrating the marriage of Tate Alexander Robinson And Kelly Marie Mason Saturday, August 13th at 3 pm The Nightstalker Packhouse Please RSVP with the card enclosed by August 1st. Swallowing the lump that had risen in his throat with some difficulty, he folded the card back up and stuffed it in his back pocket once more. The son of a b***h had actually done it. He had asked Kelly to marry him and she had said yes. He had known that Robinson would ask her eventually but he had thought he’d have more time before that day came. “She belongs with me, Robinson,” Mitch muttered, still staring at the sliver of Nightstalker land that he could see. “She was supposed to be mine before your father f****d everything up. And the only reason she stuck around was because you knocked her up. She’ll be mine again, just wait and see. Once she realizes she doesn’t actually love you, she’ll come crawling home and I’ll welcome her with open arms.” Mitch snorted and shook his head, turning his attention back to his father’s grave. Had his father known they were potential mates when he had added the marriage clause to the merger he had proposed when everyone thought Robinson dead? Had he known that Kelly didn’t really love Robinson, that she only thought she did? He had seen the way she had reacted to him the night she had promised to marry him if Robinson didn’t make it home. He had seen the way her skin flushed under his gaze, the way her breathing had hitched in her throat when she glanced his way, the way she had shivered when he had touched her. Did Robinson make her feel the same way? He doubted it. “What do I do, dad?” he murmured, staring at the picture on the back of the tombstone, wishing his father was still around to tell him what to do again. As much as they hadn’t gotten along, he was starting to miss the way his father took charge of the situation. Hell, he was even starting to miss the way his father would tell him exactly what to do. He was tired of making a mess of everything. Scooting back so he could rest his back against the tombstone, he closed his eyes wearily. He had tried telling Kelly how he had felt the day before she had moved back to the packhouse, had tried to ask her to stay. If he had been anything like his father, he would have demanded she stay and then challenged Robinson when he came back to figure out why she hadn’t returned home. But he wasn’t his father, and things hadn’t gone the way he had hoped. A bouquet of roses in hand, he had waited in his car until Robinson had got into his truck and drove off, leaving Kelly alone with their son. Nervously, he had gotten out and rapped smartly on the front door before wiping his hands nervously on the legs of his jeans. It had taken her a few minutes to answer the door, Griffin on her hip, but when she had seen him, her face had lit up with a sunny smile. “Are those for me?” she had asked in surprise, spotting the bouquet. “I thought you’d like them,” he had said lamely, following her into the small kitchen and taking Griffin from her while she searched the cupboards for a vase. “I do, thank you,” she had smiled. “You really shouldn’t have, though. I don’t know if they’ll survive the ride to the packhouse if I don’t find a sturdy enough vase.” “They’d survive if you stayed here,” he had suggested, shifting Griffin to his hip so he could better focus on Kelly. “I’d love to stay,” Kelly had sighed wearily, leaning against the counter, the roses forgotten next to her. “I love it here in Silvermoon and I love having my family close by. But my pack needs me. I’ve promised the single mothers that I’d get a daycare up and running in a few weeks and I can’t let them down. And then there’s Tate. He’s said he’d give up his position if I really wanted to stay, but I can’t make him do that. He loves his job.” “I… I see,” he had stammered, surprised but not surprised by her answer. Since when had Robinson let her be so involved in the pack? He had understood when Robinson had been recovering, but now with him back at full health, he didn’t understand why. Robinson had more than enough people to help get his pack up and running, he didn’t need to involve Kelly. The poor girl was stressed enough as it was. “Why are you running the daycare?” “It was something I had started when Tate was missing,” Kelly had explained patiently, turning back to the roses. “It didn’t feel right to hand it over to someone else when he took over again, though I could have. Goddess knows Tate wanted me to.” “Will you come back once it’s up and running?” he had asked hopefully. “Of course,” she had reassured him. “I can’t stay away forever.” He had left shortly after, satisfied that she would come back for him. That was his first mistake. She had come back a couple of times since then already, but never for him. No, she had come to see her family. Hell, he wouldn’t have even known she had been by if Mrs. McDonnell hadn’t mentioned it when he had stopped by to check on her to see how she was holding up after his father’s death. His second mistake had been not going after her. But between trying to figure out how to do his new job and coping with his father’s death, he hadn’t had time. But that wasn’t any excuse. He could have written her a letter or called her on the phone. He had enough time to do those things, didn’t he? Pushing off the ground and stretching, he pulled the invitation back out of his pocket. Studying it, an idea popped into his head. He had time now and it was now or never at this point. He didn’t want to go to the wedding, but he needed to respond to the RSVP. Perhaps, if he sent a note tucked into the envelope with the RSVP card, he could tell Kelly how he really felt. Grinning, he hurried over to his car. This time next week, there was a good chance Robinson’s wedding would be called off. This time next week, he’d have Kelly in his arms and he could finally kiss her like he’d been dying to for months now. This time next week, he’d be telling her in person that he loved her. Shifting uncomfortably in his chair, Tate glanced over at Greg who was staring at the same sheet of paper Tate was, his eyes glossed over. Tate wasn’t sure how many times they had gone over this list in front of them, and everything looked good, but something still didn’t feel right. “Who are we still missing?” Tate groaned, picking up the paper and scanning the list of names. “Beats me,” Greg yawned, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. “Maybe you should give the list to Kelly. I’m sure she could tell you.” “That’s the problem,” Tate complained, dropping the paper back on the table. “This is the list she gave me. All the names you see here, those were here doing. I’m supposed to make sure I didn’t forget someone important. With this new peace treaty we’re trying out, I have to make sure I get everyone. I, we, can’t afford to piss anyone off right now because we forgot to send them an invitation.” “Do you have a map handy?” Greg asked as he cracked an eye at Tate, a frown tugging on his lips. “Yeah, why?” Tate asked in confusion. “Do you have one with the pack boundaries marked on it?” Greg pressed, hoping that Tate would understand what he was getting at without him having to go into too much detail. “Yeah, but… Oh, I see,” Tate said, his eyes widening as he pushed himself out of his chair and hurried out of the room. Glancing over his shoulder, he grinned at Greg. “Don’t fall asleep quite yet, I may need your help still.” Grumbling, Greg waved him off before promptly closing his eyes again. Chuckling, Tate closed the door as quietly as he could behind him before sneaking across the hall to peer into the daycare. Griffin, now running everywhere since he had finally mastered walking without falling too much, was chasing another pup around the room. Colleen, a look of exhaustion on her face, was watching them carefully, ready to scoop one of the rambunctious toddlers off the floor if they fell. Two other women, whose names Tate couldn’t remember, were bustling around on opposite sides of the rooms, checking on the other pups wandering around. Kelly, who should have also been in there, was nowhere to be seen. Pushing the door open ever so slightly, he slipped into the room and glanced around before making his way over to Colleen. “Dada,” Griffin crowed happily, dashing over to him and raising his chubby arms in the air, waiting to be picked up. “Hey buddy,” Tate tickled his son’s belly. “Have you seen mommy anywhere?” “She’s upstairs,” Colleen provided, sitting down in a nearby rocking chair. “She was complaining that her head hurt, so I suggested she rest for a bit. All this stress from running the daycare, setting up her own office to help you with pack relations, and now the wedding is starting to wear on her.” “I know,” Tate frowned, rubbing his face wearily. “I’m exhausted, and I’m not doing nearly as much as she is. How she manages to roll out of bed every day is beyond me.” “Have you talked to her about maybe stepping back a bit?” Colleen asked, concern creasing her forehead. “Believe me, I’ve tried, but she won’t hear any of it,” Tate groaned. “Right now, I’m just hoping she can make it another month and then we’ll have one less thing to worry about.” “You could elope, you know?” Colleen suggested. “It would be quicker and less fuss that way.” “I’ve thought about it,” Tate said, shaking his head, “but then there would be way too many people upset that they weren’t included.” “I’m sure they’d understand if you explained to them what was going on afterward,” Colleen pressed. “I would. In fact, I’m half tempted to go upstairs and pack a bag for the two of you before kicking you both out the door.” “So you wouldn’t be mad if I ran us up to Vegas?” Tate teased with a playful smirk. “Don’t you dare go to Vegas,” Colleen snapped. “Take her somewhere nice. And then once the two of you have rested for a couple of weeks, you can bring her back. I’m sure we can hold the fort down for a few weeks.” “I’m sure you could,” Tate chuckled. “Greg is more than capable and he has so many assistants at this point that I’m not even sure he does much anymore except check things over briefly before sending them on to me.” “Will you please think about it?” Colleen asked with a sigh as she stood up and took Griffin from him. “I will,” he promised solemnly. “In fact, after I’m done talking to her about a few important details, and if we still don’t have them hammered out, I’ll call the whole thing off and we’ll run off sometime in the next week or so. Sound good?” “That works,” Colleen said, offering him a tight-lipped smile as he backed out of the room. Once free of the daycare, Tate hurried across the hall to his office. He knew he had a map of pack boundaries around here somewhere. It was old, drawn up before Blackfur had attacked, but that shouldn’t matter much. He’d just cross the name Blackfur out and write Nighstalkers above it. Opening up his filing cabinet, he rummaged through the paperwork. Greg’s idea was brilliant. He knew exactly which packs were his allies now, so if he could just find the map and highlight them, he could cross reference the list of alphas in his contact book with the map. He’d figure out who was missing on that list in no time. Finding the map, he stepped back out of his office and glanced at the stairs leading upstairs before shooting a quick look at the meeting room where Greg was still waiting. He wanted to go talk to Kelly about maybe cutting the guest list down, but he didn’t want to keep Greg any longer than he had to. Greg had things to do, just like he did. Turning away from the stairs, Tate slipped back into the meeting room before sinking back into his chair. “You found it,” Greg stated, leaning forward to inspect the map. “It’s a little old. Will that be alright?” “Should be,” Tate grunted, pulling up his contact list on his phone. “Now, while I’ve got this pulled up, can go through each allied pack for me. “Sure thing,” Greg nodded, slowly going through each one before landing on the last one, Silvermoon. “Do you really want to invite Hawthorne?” “Not really,” Tate frowned, noting that Mitch Hawthorne was already on the list, along with his beta. “I mean, I understand that the merger drama wasn’t his fault, per se, so I don’t blame him. But he could have grown some balls and stood up to his father. Not sure I’ve completely forgiven him for that yet.” “Just the thought of having him here makes me uncomfortable,” Greg muttered. “Tell me about it,” Tate grumbled. “When I go talk to Kelly in a minute, I’m going to see if she’s okay with not inviting him. Besides, I’m sure he’s busy and won’t have time to come anyway.” “Good luck with that,” Greg laughed, stretching as he stood up. “Thanks,” Tate rolled his eyes before snatching the list up and dashing up the stairs. Hoping that Kelly wasn’t asleep, he quietly pushed the door open and peered inside. The room was cool and dark. He could just make out Kelly’s form laying on the bread. Taking a step into the room, he waited just a minute, listening to her breathing. She was awake. “How’re you feeling?” he asked softly, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Miserable,” she whimpered. “I hate migraines.” “Have you taken anything?” he asked, reaching out to rub her back. “Ramona gave me something a little while ago,” she explained. “It’s helped a bit, but it still hurts like the devil.” “I’m sorry,” Tate said, glancing down at the list in his hand and wondering if it could wait. “Is that the list?” Kelly asked, twisting to look at him. “Uh-huh,” he nodded, showing her the paper. “Who were we missing?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “Just the Bloodmoon’s beta,” Tate shrugged as if it were no big deal. “Listen, I know we don’t want to offend anyone, but do we really need to invite all these people?” “I guess not,” Kelly sighed, sinking back down onto the bed. “It would have been nice to know you were okay with not having absolutely everyone here before I handed you that list though.” “Why?” Tate asked, his heart sinking. “I already sent out all the invitations,” she explained. “The only reason I had you look at the list was because I had a couple extra and I wanted to make sure I had everyone.” “Oh,” Tate exhaled slowly. “I guess that means it’s too late to call it off and elope, huh?” “Yep,” Kelly nodded, closing her eyes with a groan. Mitch dropped the pen and flexed his hand. Balls of paper littered the top of his desk and the floor around his chair. Shaking his head at the mess, he picked up the finished letter and read it one last time. Kelly, I know I promised I would try to stay on my best behavior around you, that I would support you in your decision to stay with Tate, but I can’t. Not anymore. I don’t want you to marry Tate because I feel like it should be me. But I won’t stop you. It’s your decision. So if you continue with the wedding, I won’t be there. I don’t think I can stomach seeing you promise yourself to someone else. If on the off chance you change your mind, you know where to find me. Yours, Mitch It wasn’t perfect. Far from it in fact, but it would have to do. Folding it up, he stuffed it into the envelope behind the RSVP and prayed that Kelly would be the one to open it. If Robinson opened it… Mitch shuddered. He had a few years on Robinson, but Robinson had a couple extra inches and a few extra pounds on him. If it came down to a fight, they’d be pretty evenly matched. But while he didn’t have anything to lose if he lost, Robinson had everything to lose. He’d fight like hell, and Mitch knew it. Standing up, he headed out of his office and down to the mailroom. Slipping into the outgoing box, he swallowed nervously. It was no big deal, just a simple letter. But if it was so simple, why did it feel like he had just signed his own death warrant?