Royal Alpha

by Riley Storm

  “It’s not going to answer itself,” Miriam muttered under her breath as she sipped at her drink.

  “No shit,” she snapped. “But I’m not going to answer it either.”

  Though she should. It wasn’t polite of her to ignore him. Leonen had been trying to get a hold of her all day, and she hadn’t responded to him once. It was at the point where it was obvious she was ignoring him.

  What was she going to talk about though? The two had nothing in common, and she didn’t really even like him. Then why did you agree to mate him?

  Because, she thought to herself, she owed it to her family. That was how things were done. They were protecting her, keeping her safe even though she might become something…awful. Something terrible. It wasn’t right, but that was the way it was, and Heather felt she owed a debt of gratitude to her family for it.

  Arranged matings were nothing new in the High Houses, or even the lower ones, really. They had been happening for centuries and would continue to happen for many more. Ever since she was a young child, Heather had been aware that she would not get to mate for love. It didn’t bother her that much. It would further her family’s political power and enable them to hopefully continue to do good for the House.

  She could stomach a less-than-ideal partner for the greater good.

  But right now, her focus was on the raiding party and their wellbeing.

  “Okay, daughter, sit.”

  Heather looked up at the change in her mother’s tone. This was no longer about her pacing or ignoring Leonen. Something else was on her mind.

  “I’d rather stand,” she said.

  “Sit.”

  The single word brooked no more argument. Whatever the issue was, it was serious. So, Heather went and sat in a chair opposite Miriam and waited to hear what it was about. Had something new come up in her plans, perhaps? Something where she needed Heather’s help? That seemed unlikely. Miriam was well aware that while Heather wouldn’t oppose her, she wasn’t overly fond of her political machinations, and so left her daughter out of them.

  “We need to have a chat, daughter of mine.”

  Uh oh. This can’t be good.

  Miriam’s chats were never good. Nor were they usually pleasant either. Heather prepared herself for a verbal lashing, though she couldn’t for the life of her figure out what it could be over.

  “About what?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady and casual.

  “Last night,” Miriam said, as if that should clue her in to everything she needed to know.

  “Pardon?” Heather wasn’t aware of getting herself into any trouble her mother would know about in the past twenty-four hours, but apparently, she was wrong.

  “Don’t play stupid with me,” Miriam hissed. “You know damn well what I’m talking about.”

  Heather blinked. “I honestly do not.” She was telling the truth. After she’d left the Council meeting, she’d come back to the room, chatted with Leonen via text message briefly, and then gone to bed. What could her mother possibly be upset about from that evening?

  “You and Logan,” Miriam said icily.

  Ah, shit. How did she find out about—never mind.

  It wasn’t even worth asking. Her mother had spies and informants everywhere. It was likely the messenger had reported it to her the instant he’d spied them alone in the hallway.

  Should have kept quiet for a few more seconds and then taken a picture, she thought, irritated at the loudmouths within the Manor. Nothing had happened.

  “Nothing happened,” she said, repeating the last statement out loud.

  “You two were spotted in the lower tunnels holding hands, about to kiss.”

  Heather swore if she ever ran into the messenger again, he was going to learn to keep his mouth shut the hard way.

  “Oh, is that what you think we were doing?” she said with a sarcastic laugh. “Trust me, we most definitely were not.”

  Miriam sniffed derisively. “That’s the story going around.”

  You mean, that’s the story that was fed to you.

  “I didn’t realize we had tabloids here in Moonshadow Manor,” Heather said dryly. “I thought we didn’t have paparazzi in here,” she added, a subtle dig at her mother’s spy network.

  Miriam’s gaze hardened. “You can’t be seen like that, Heather. You must behave better. Keep your interactions with him public. Everyone knows of the…history, the two of you share. We don’t want people spreading lies or implications about you, now, do we?”

  “Of course not,” she said with false emotion.

  “Certainly not before the mating ceremony at least,” Miriam added.

  Translation: After that, I’m Leonen’s problem, not yours, and you don’t want me to ruin things for you. Don’t worry, Mother, I understand. I wouldn’t dream of it.

  “There was, and is, nothing going on between us,” she gritted out through clenched teeth, hating when her mother got like this.

  “Good.” Miriam sighed. “You know how important this mating is to our family, dear. Why, when you and Leonen are joined, you will make such a perfect couple, but also, it will bring our two factions together. As one, we will wield enough might to challenge those who support Logan. That way, we can ensure our needs are looked after as well.”

  Heather nodded, her face blank. All her mother cared about was more power. With the wedding of her daughter to the head of her biggest rival, Miriam would inherit enough political clout that if things went sideways, she could conceivably replace Logan with a King or Queen of her own choosing.

  She didn’t care about Heather or who she was mated to. Miriam only cared about Miriam and making herself stronger or richer. Nothing else. All the kind words about Heather and Leonen being the perfect couple was just a bunch of horseshit she somehow expected her daughter to lap up.

  “Trust me,” Heather said, “there is nothing going on between us. That died years ago.”

  “Appearances can be deceiving,” Miriam said without hesitation. “So, don’t go giving people fuel, okay?”

  Before Heather could do much more than nod, her phone went off on the table again.

  Miriam looked at it. “You should answer that. Start spending more time with your mate-to-be. It will be good for you and him, and also will show everyone that you’re committed to him, not anyone else.”

  “Of course,” Heather said, standing up. She recognized a dismissal when she heard one. “Have a wonderful evening, Mother.”

  Walking over to the side table, she picked up her phone and started typing a message. If nothing else, being forced to deal with Leonen in person for a few hours would help distract her from Logan and the others.

  Not that I need a distraction. Because there’s nothing going on there that I can’t ignore if I wanted to.

  8

  The waiting was starting to get to him.

  “It’ll be fine.”

  Logan glared at the speaker, not out of any sense of dislike, but because the fact that someone had said something meant he was betraying more emotion on his face than Logan wanted. He was supposed to be their leader, the person they looked to for inspiration and confidence. If he couldn’t portray that, then what sort of King would he be?

  The men with him, and many of the others back at the Manor, they all deserved a true King, a good King. The sort that could be both the leader, their alpha, but also their friend. Sometimes, Logan wasn’t so sure he could juggle both those responsibilities. It took a certain type of person to pull it off.

  Going too much in one direction would result in someone like the Tyrant King, a figure hell-bent on nothing but rule and being the boss, wanting everything their way or not at all. But if he erred in the direction of too much friendship, then he risked not having the authority over his House that he would need when the tough decisions were to be made.

  “What’s the latest report?” he growled before anything else could be said on the matter.

  The speaker, Liam, rolled his eyes
blatantly. “No change. I would have told you immediately if there was one. When she’s confident the spell is up, we’ll proceed.”

  Although Logan had ordered the raid to go ahead, he wasn’t taking any chances with it. He’d brought along more than enough men to ensure they could overwhelm the Tyrant King’s few remaining supporters, as well as his Magi, to counter any magic the Kraits may throw their way.

  Heather wasn’t the only one worried it may be a trap. The thing was, she didn’t have to make this decision. Nor was she in a precarious position. Logan had proclaimed himself King but until the coronation ceremony itself, where anyone could announce a challenge to his right to rule, he was only in charge by dint of the acclamation of his supporters.

  And when Heather mates with Leonen, my power bloc will no longer have an easy majority.

  Thankfully, only a properly accepted King could approve arranged matings, which meant that the coronation ceremony had to come first. Otherwise, he would be in serious trouble. Although with the Tyrant King still out there, nothing is guaranteed.

  If there was anyone who could make a more legitimate claim to the throne than Logan, it was Laurien, the former King. That was a risk Logan simply couldn’t take, and so he needed to eliminate the former King and the last of his supporters. House Canis couldn’t take a renewal of the fighting. It needed to be whole again, and soon. Logan could feel it in his bones. There was something else brewing in the paranormal world.

  He just didn’t know what yet.

  Beside him, Liam twitched. “She’s ready.”

  Logan offered up a silent prayer to any of the gods who may be listening, and then nodded at Liam. The shifter closed his eyes, communicating with his mate through a complex spell that Logan didn’t understand. All he knew was that it worked, and Jennifer, his Magi and only potential counter to any magic used today, was ready to cast the first spell.

  They were waiting in the overgrown field across the street from a trio of warehouses, one of which was being used as a hideout by the Tyrant King and his men. Four more men sat on their haunches twenty feet behind him. Another eighteen, split into groups of six, were arrayed at the primary compass points around the building.

  Together, the four teams would hit the right-most warehouse simultaneously. Nobody would be able to escape. That was how the plan was supposed to go, at least. The Tyrant King, Kraits, and his few remaining shifter supporters would most certainly have something to say about that.

  “Why do it this way?”

  Liam looked at him. “What? This was your plan…”

  “No, not us,” Logan said with a shake of his head. “I mean him. Laurien. We never did find out why he abandoned Moonshadow Manor, splitting his forces. If he’d committed the Kraits to the battle there, we may very well have lost entirely, or at least been forced to retreat. But he never did. What possible reason could he have for that?”

  “He’s scared.”

  There was no question in Liam’s answer. It was a statement.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Exactly what I said. He’s scared. He took some men and ran off because he knew we were coming for him. That he couldn’t stop us. All this time, Laurien hasn’t been trying to strengthen the House. He’s been more concerned with protecting his own behind and staying in power than he has anything else.”

  “Oh. I guess.”

  Liam jerked and looked up, pointing at the sky. “There.”

  Following his gaze, Logan watched a spark of green-gold appear over the warehouse, spreading outward and down in a dome, turning the warehouse into the centerpiece of a giant snow globe.

  Moments later, the ring of magic touched down behind them, making them invisible to the outside world. Logan had seen Jennifer do her stealth trick in person before, making herself invisible to all the major senses, but this was the first time she’d employed it on such a large scale.

  Outside of the dome, no humans would be able to see, hear, or even feel anything that went on inside. To them, the warehouse would just continue to sit there, doing nothing. Even if the shifters burnt it to the ground.

  “Let’s go,” Logan said.

  Immediately, the others rose from their crouches too, the four other soldiers coming up to stand with him and Liam now they no longer needed privacy to talk. The time for talking was over. It was time to end it.

  Logan took the first step, but everyone else was there with him. The other teams would be doing the same, having been given an order to initiate the attack thirty seconds after Jennifer’s spell went into full effect.

  Not willing to let his men take risks he wasn’t, Logan lowered his shoulder and charged ahead, hitting the metal roll-up door and blowing it inward in a shower of sparks and screeching of steel.

  Elsewhere in the cavernous warehouse, he could hear the sounds of the other teams breaching their own entrances. It was dark inside, and only minimal light spilled in from the hole in the wall.

  Giant stacks of racking rose up like abandoned monoliths, giving the warehouse an eerie feel to it. Despite the building’s size, the empty storage racks made it feel smaller in a way, the shadows closing over them like a glove as they cautiously made their way deeper.

  There was a glow from somewhere deep in the warehouse, a globe of green-gold light rising up toward the ceiling, casting its light further and further as it went—until it was extinguished as a swirl of shadows rose up from the depths and smothered the light, confirming one of Logan’s suspicions. The Kraits were here, and equipped with their own magical defenses.

  Not mages in their own right, the Kraits used magic via artifacts that had been infused with magic. Logan didn’t understand the way it worked, and any mage he’d ever asked had immediately delved into magic-physics he didn’t understand, but the simple thing was, anyone could make use of said objects and the Kraits were trained to be deadly with it.

  More explosions of light erupted as Jennifer went to war with the Kraits, but he couldn’t get bogged down in that. Logan had to find the Tyrant King. He jogged onward, senses questing outward as best he could, looking for any sign of life.

  “Look out!”

  Something hit Logan hard in the back, sending him flying forward. He landed in a heap just in time to see a shadow drop down from high up in the racking onto the soldier who had saved him. The loyal shifter dropped with a sickening crunch, and the attacker leapt away, disappearing into unnatural shadows before Logan could even take a step forward.

  Liam and the others rushed forward but were too slow. Growling, Logan got to his feet, going to check on the body. Even as he knelt next to it, he knew there was no hope. The man’s head was lying at a very unnatural angle. He was dead.

  “That should have been me,” he stated, looking up into the shadows above.

  “We knew this wouldn’t be bloodless,” Liam said. “Let’s keep moving. Eyes up and out.”

  The quintet continued on, but no more attacks came. They finally reached the center of the warehouse, a large open space free from any of the racking. Once there, they found the rest of the teams awaiting them.

  Logan scowled as he realized each team was down a man. Already, their number had been reduced by nearly twenty percent.

  “Their magic isn’t powerful,” Jennifer said, moving up next to him. “But there’s a lot of it, and they’re focusing on little more than shadows. Hiding from us.”

  “Can you stop it?” Logan wanted to know as the shifters all faced outward, forming a perimeter.

  “Not in the entire warehouse, no. Not while I’m holding the spell outside as well.” Jennifer looked apologetic. “Sorry.”

  “It’s fine. Do what you can here. If we can see them coming, we’ll be alright.”

  Almost immediately, the space around the rebel shifters burst into light. We’re not rebels anymore, Logan thought to himself. He really needed to stop thinking of themselves that way.

  “What now?” Liam wanted to know.

  Logan hesitated. What
he ordered them to do next was critical. Which decision should he choose? Attack? Wait? Try to find another way to counteract the Kraits’ shadow-magic? He stood still, frozen with indecision. Four men were already dead because of his plan to attack the warehouse. How many more would die if he made the wrong choice?

  The decision was taken for him as pure shadow came screaming in at them from every direction. Jennifer grunted and the muscles in her body tightened as she poured more energy into her light.

  “I don’t know if I can hold,” she ground out. “This is far stronger than anything else.”

  A second later, shadowy forms came rushing in from all sides. The rest of Logan’s team finally had targets they could attack, and rushed to join the fight.

  That was when the screams began. Some shifters struck at the figures, only to have them fade away, disappearing like smoke while real, tangible attackers loomed up from unexpected sides. Three more men went down in the first thirty seconds.

  Logan cursed. It was a trap, and of the worst kind.

  Then there was no more time to think as a figure came at him. He blocked, but the strike just washed across him. A fake. Something scraped on concrete to his right and he ducked, feeling something brush against his skull by the tiniest of margins, doing little more than tug at the skin.

  Lashing out with all the anger at his stupidity, Logan struck back, and struck back hard. His target grunted, and the shadow cover wavered around him long enough for Logan to glimpse his face. He didn’t know the man’s name, but recognized him as one of the Kraits.

  Not letting up his attack, Logan punched, chopped and then delivered a sweeping kick that took out the Krait’s legs, depositing him on the ground. Logan was on him in the blink of an eye, grabbing his head and pulling, yanking him up hard. Tendons popped in his neck, but Logan knew he wasn’t done. Abruptly he reversed his efforts and drove the back of the Krait’s skull into the concrete.

  Something crunched. Logan repeated his move twice more until he could feel wetness seeping out and the body went limp. Getting to his feet, he saw the circle of light retracting just as much as the shifters were.