Chapter 7: The Alpha’s Game
1071 Words
Marcus
She really thought she was doing this for me.
Every move Aurora made, every alliance she secured, every carefully worded message she sent out in my name—she believed it came from her heart. From her love. From the sacred, unbreakable thread of the mate bond.
And that was exactly what I wanted.
I watched her now from the doorway of my study as she leaned over a scroll, biting the corner of her lip in that way she always did when she was concentrating. Her fingers, ink-stained and delicate, moved across the paper with graceful precision. She was writing another letter—this time to one of her father’s former allies in the northern border.
More influence. More leverage. More credibility.
All under the illusion that she was “helping her mate.”
Gods, she made it easy.
Everything I’d needed—access, recognition, alliance openings, border privileges—she gave willingly, eagerly, with that hopeful gleam in her eyes like she was building something with me. Like we were carving a future hand in hand.
The irony was almost poetic.
She had no idea that I’d planned this from the beginning.
From the first moment I saw her at that Moonlight Gathering, standing with that wide-eyed innocence and raw, untrained power pulsing under her skin—I knew.
She was the key.
To status.
To legitimacy.
To everything I’d been denied since the day my father died and left me a pack no one respected.
And the best part?
I didn’t have to take anything by force.
I let her give it to me.
Willingly.
The mate bond was there, yes. I won’t deny that. When I touched her hand that night, felt the surge of fate lock between us, it caught me off guard. I hadn’t expected it to be her.
But once it clicked, I understood exactly what it meant.
Not love.
Leverage.
I didn’t need her heart.
I needed her influence. Her legacy. Her name.
Aurora Matel—the daughter of Flick Matel. Heir to the North American Alpha seat. Descended from generations of pure-blooded power.
Wolves like her weren’t just respected.
They were obeyed.
And all I had to do was let her believe she was saving me.
Let her fall. Let her chase. Let her leap.
And she did. Gods, she did.
That river crossing? The desperate run from her father’s walls? The breathless confession in my arms as I pulled her onto my territory?
Scripted.
She just didn’t know it.
I pushed the door open and stepped into the room. She looked up quickly, smiling, bright and beautiful and entirely unaware.
“I finished the draft,” she said. “If Aldric agrees to back your trade request, we can move forward with the summit proposal.”
I took the scroll, scanning the neat writing. Perfect. Persuasive. Naïve.
“You’re incredible,” I said, brushing a kiss against her forehead. “I don’t deserve you.”
She laughed softly. “Don’t say that. We’re doing this together.”
Together.
The word settled on my tongue like ash.
I reached around her and pulled her into my lap. She giggled, curling against my chest. I held her there, letting the warmth of the bond wrap around us, masking the sharp calculations slicing through my mind.
The more I played the doting mate, the more she trusted me.
The more she trusted me, the deeper I sank my claws into her world.
Soon, she’d be too far gone to crawl out.
That night, I sat with Elena in the war room.
She tossed a dagger between her fingers lazily, her expression bored.
“She’s doing your job better than you are,” she said without looking at me.
“I know.”
“You’re lucky she’s stupid.”
I narrowed my eyes. “She’s not stupid. Just hopeful.”
“Same thing.”
I didn’t argue. Because Elena wasn’t wrong.
Aurora wasn’t weak—not in the traditional sense. She had spine. She had a gift no wolf should be able to control the way she did. But emotionally?
She was predictable.
Loyal to a fault. Blinded by the idea that fate meant safety. That being someone’s mate meant they’d be cherished.
She had no idea how the world worked.
And by the time she figured it out, it would be too late.
“She’s trying to get you on the Alpha Council,” Elena said.
“I know.”
“She sent a request to her father’s enemies this morning.”
“I know.”
Elena looked at me finally. “And you’re going to take all of it... and throw her away when you’re done?”
I didn’t answer.
Because we both knew the truth.
I didn’t need Aurora forever.
Just long enough.
Long enough for the Alpha Council to reinstate Pine Ridge under her name.
Long enough for the summit to acknowledge my seat with her as the token Luna by my side.
Long enough for the other packs to forget how I rose—from nothing, through manipulation, not merit.
Once that happened?
Once my name carried power on its own?
She wouldn’t matter anymore.
But there was one thing I hadn’t accounted for.
The way she looked at me when she thought I wasn’t paying attention.
Like I was her world.
It made my chest tighten, sometimes. At night. When she’d fall asleep wrapped around me, whispering about the future we’d build.
Babies. Borders. Peace.
It was so pure, it made me want to laugh.
Not because it was funny.
But because none of it was real.
I would never give her that life.
Because I couldn’t.
Because I didn’t want it.
All I wanted was power.
And she?
She was the staircase.
One day she’d realize it.
She’d see the notes I burned.
She’d overhear a conversation I didn’t mean for her to hear.
She’d notice the way I kissed her differently in public.
She’d ask too many questions.
And by then?
By then, I’d already have what I needed.
She wouldn’t be able to leave.
And if she tried?
Well...
The Council doesn’t take kindly to betrayal.
Especially from a Luna.
Especially from a Matel.
And the wolves who once followed her name?
They’d follow mine.
Because in this world, it doesn’t matter how you get the throne.
Only that you hold it.
- Writer
