Alpha Queen

by Callie Rose

  The place is literally a garden shed—one room, walls lined with gardening tools, a small work bench stationed in one corner. Cooper has a cot set up with blankets and a threadbare pillow, and the electric cord is hooked to a hot plate.

  Cooper flops onto the cot, kicking up his feet so that neither of us can sit beside him. Not that I want to anyway, but the cot is pretty much the only option unless I want to turn over a ceramic planter that looks like it would crumble under the slightest weight. I motion for Sable to perch on the work bench, then I stand beside her awkwardly, staring down at the man who gave me life.

  “Why are you here?” Cooper asks, his eyes narrowing a little.

  “Sable wanted to meet you,” I say shortly.

  He swivels to smile at her, turning on the charm. “Enchanted. Sable, is it? So you’re mated to my boy?”

  “Yes, sir.” Her voice is cool and gives nothing away. I’m dying to know what her first impression is. I’m dying to know if she thinks he’s just as much bluster and bullshit as I know he is.

  I charge ahead before he can proposition her, because God fucking knows he will. “Also, after the pack meeting last nigh—”

  Cooper snorts and slaps his knee with his free hand, his eyes glinting with disdain. “That circus! Fucking hell. My pack made the right choice, you know. Isolating ourselves is the right thing to do. You team up, you get dragged into sharing the burden other, lesser packs carry. The West Pack’s strong, sturdy stock. We don’t need other packs dragging us down.”

  He continues his tirade about how great the West Pack is and how useless the other packs are. He even makes mention of the South Pack being weak and good riddance, and a wave of fury washes over me on Dare’s behalf. He’s been mourning the destruction of his pack since the day it happened, and my father just shit all over them in a self-aggrandizing rampage.

  His voice grates on me, and the pressure builds between my ears until I think my head’s going to blow. Sable remains quiet and watchful beside me, and I try to keep my composure too. But inside, I’m seething. Inside, I’m imagining how it would feel to punch my dad in the face again without the challenge pushing me to do it. I’m wondering how the actual fuck I came from this man, and how much damage he did to me that I’ll spend the rest of my life undoing.

  I finally can’t take his pompous shit anymore. “Shut up, Dad.”

  Cooper’s words die out as his mouth slams shut with an audible clicking of his teeth. Even though I’ve been alpha for years, I think it still takes him by surprise to hear me speak to him like that—probably because we haven’t spoken in years. He’s seen me running the pack, but maybe he doesn’t know how much I’ve changed.

  Back when I was a kid, I never talked back. I never argued. I just bowed to his every whim until the day I fought back.

  Until the day I stood up for myself and my pack.

  “You’re an asshole,” I go on before he can speak, “and you’ve always been an asshole. Too full of yourself to see that other people matter. Too shortsighted to see the whole picture. You aren’t the reason the West Pack is great. You’re the reason they’re broken.”

  As the words fall from my mouth, I realize that some of the same traits I’m chastising him for are ones I once possessed. But just as I’m not the scared little boy living under his father’s thumb anymore, I’m not the arrogant asshole who thinks he’s better than everyone else either.

  Or at least, I’m learning not to be that man. I’m trying.

  And so much of that has to do with the woman by my side. The sweet, strong, stubborn she-wolf who loves me enough to see past my faults, and loves me enough to call me on them too.

  Cooper scoffs. “You aren’t going to stand there and tell me you want to keep the packs joined?”

  My lips press together. “If I do, it’s none of your damn business. You aren’t the alpha.”

  “Ha! Good luck then, kid.” He leans back, smirking. “You can order your people to stay here, but they’re smarter than that. They’ll rebel.”

  The smug smile on his face makes my blood boil. Fury rises within me like a tsunami, and I have to fight the strong desire to bash my fist through his face to wipe that look off it.

  I vividly remember now why I challenged my father for the alpha role. Cooper always had the charisma, but he never had the heart. He never actually cared about the people or putting their needs first and foremost above his own. As an alpha, the number one priority is always what’s best for the pack, not what’s best for yourself. What I want is a fucking moot point when two hundred other people are relying on me to lead the way.

  It seems so fucking obvious now. My pack will be safer if we join forces with the other two. Yeah, it won’t be fucking easy. But it’s exactly the right path. And I’m exactly the right man to be leading my people down that road.

  I surprise even myself when I don’t scream at my father. Instead, my voice comes out low and hard, full of conviction. “I’m not going to order my people to do anything. I’m going to convince them.”

  “Your people.” Cooper sneers nastily. “They were my people once. And I didn’t let them walk all over me.”

  “No, you walked all over them,” I snap, tired of his bullshit. “That’s not how being a leader works. That’s how being a dictator works. And historically, being a dictator never seems to work out, does it?”

  Cooper splutters, tripping over his angry responses without making any real words come out. His inability to speak logically and professionally in the wake of his anger feels like a fucking win. This man should never have been alpha in the first place. He was a big damn child who defaulted into the position because his own dad got old and weak.

  I did everyone a fucking favor.

  “Your job is to do,” he finally says. “The very idea of you opening a floor for discussion… for convincing…”

  Funnily enough, he almost sounds offended. By the idea of me convincing the pack to stay here, or by the fact that I’m ten times the alpha he ever dreamed of being? It’s a toss-up.

  I touch Sable’s shoulder and motion toward the door with my head. “Come on. We’re leaving.”

  Her eyes are as wide as saucers, and her nose is wrinkled like she smells something bad. I always get that way around my father too. If I wasn’t trying to leave with dignity, I’d tell her that so we could share a laugh. Instead, I whirl on my heel and stalk from the shed before he can open his mouth to speak again.

  Because if he manages to get another word in, I won’t be responsible for what I do. In fact, I might even enjoy kicking his ass all over again.

  Thankfully, I can sense Sable following right behind me, and we make our escape before I have to resort to brawling.

  My heart is pounding like I just fought a fucking bear. Just being in that small space, dealing with my father like I did for the first seventeen years of my life, has my blood rushing in my ears. Standing there and arguing with him dredged up all sorts of memories and left me feeling so different from the kid who grew up under Cooper’s thumb. When I think back to all those massive fights we always had, all the times I had to bite my tongue when I really wanted to let him have it, it’s a damn miracle I waited until I came of age before throwing down for the position of alpha.

  The good news is I don’t have to bite my tongue anymore. Never again.

  Aside from my anger still churning in my gut, I feel validated. Like I got some closure in just that short interaction. Cooper always seemed to focus on what the pack could do for him, not what he could do for the pack. What a fucking dick.

  We’re all better off without him.

  I’m walking without real direction, trying to process my anger and work through my emotions. A part of me is worried if I speak now, I’ll just be an ass because I’m still learning how to feel shit. We’re somewhere deep in the middle of the village, and everything looks peaceful. Cleanup has gone well in this area of town. Either that, or this small cross section of dirt roads was deep enough to keep
it safe from the witches when they attacked from the outside.

  The details don’t matter though. The birds are singing. Neighbors are chatting over fences, kids are playing in the yards. There’s an old man rocking in a chair on his porch, smoking a cigar with his eyes closed and a smile on his face.

  This is what pack life should look like.

  I realize two things in the same instant. One—my anger has faded dramatically in the last few seconds thanks to our idyllic surroundings. And two—Sable is being oddly quiet. I hope my dad didn’t offend her or, I don’t know, turn her off to the idea of being mated to me. I look over at her, ready to launch into a heartfelt promise that I’ll never, ever turn out like that dickbag.

  But the moment I look at her thoughtful face, an even deeper realization washes over me.

  “You meant for this to happen,” I murmur, baffled. “You expected this—or something like it. That argument. Me coming to terms with the fact I’m the better alpha. You… you knew.”

  A small smile touches the corners of her lips, and she links her arm through mine as we walk. “I didn’t know for sure. But I suspected. Trystan, you’re an amazing leader. I’ve seen it in you. Not just with your pack, but with anybody who needs you watching their back.” She leans her head against my arm, and I feel like my heart could explode with happiness as she adds, “I just thought maybe you could use a little reminder.”

  6

  Sable

  I give Trystan’s arm a squeeze in a kind of awkward arm hug, and he draws to a slow halt.

  When I look back up at him, he’s staring at me with such a funny, un-Trystan-like expression on his face, that I almost laugh. Then his hands wrap around my elbows and he drags me against him, that bewildered expression falling away as it’s replaced by something warmer.

  “Goddammit, I love you,” he murmurs, conviction ringing in his voice.

  Without another word, he drops his head and kisses me.

  His arms wrap around my waist, and his palms send little tingles up my spine as he tugs me closer. I rise up on my toes, pressing my body against his, and a low rumble of desire comes from deep inside his chest. Our kiss deepens. Quickens. His lips taste like ambrosia, like I’m standing in heaven and about to be as high as a goddess can go. Our tongues touch, and his fingers sink into my hips to yank me against his growing erection.

  I lose all concept of time and give myself over to the sensation of him in my arms.

  Before the kiss can go even further south of publicly indecent, Trystan finally breaks away, breathing hard. His fingers slide up and down my back, stroking me as if he’s unwilling to let me go just yet.

  I know the feeling, I think, as I lace my fingers together behind his back and hold on tight.

  “I love you too, you know,” I whisper.

  He chuckles, then clears his throat since his voice is still thick with desire. “I’m lucky as hell you do. I’ll spend my whole damn life trying to deserve you.”

  “You already do.”

  He makes a soft noise in his throat. “Only because you make me a better person.” He draws back a little to look at me. “Hey, I need to go talk to my pack. Do you want to come with me?”

  “Of course I do,” I reply with a nod. “My place is at your side.”

  He beams. The smile is so boyishly happy that it sets my heart racing all over again. I could spend the rest of my life making him smile like that, and it still would never be enough. I’d always want more.

  First, we stop at a house near Archer’s little cottage, where two of Trystan’s buddies have been shacked up with a young East Pack family. I love that we find them in the yard with the kids—two huge meathead shifters having a tea party in the grass with tiny teacups and two towheaded little girls.

  When they see their alpha, they leap to their feet, looking slightly embarrassed at being found in such a compromising position. But Trystan just grins at the little girls and apologizes for interrupting their tea party.

  I think I fall in love with him all over again in this moment.

  He explains to the two men that he wants to have a meeting with what I surmise is his inner circle—a group of pack members who are well-respected and liked. His buddies agree to help us track down those people, and while they say goodbye to the little girls and then take off in one direction, we head in another. Trystan knows that one of the people he wants to talk to is staying nearby.

  I remain silent as we go to three different houses, picking up people along the way. The shifters are intrigued by Trystan’s sudden arrival and cryptic request for a private meeting, but not a single one of them refuses their alpha. When we finally gather in the East Pack meeting house, there are about ten people, including Trystan’s two buddies and myself. I hang back behind him to give him center stage, and I’m surprised when his two friends fall into place on either side of me. One gives me a kind smile, and the other winks.

  Score one for the mate. Maybe I’ll win all these packs over yet.

  I’m only here to observe and support, so I stay silent in the background as Trystan begins to speak.

  He sits at the large table with his pack members and drags his chair closer before he folds his hands on the tabletop and addresses the group. “Ladies, gentleman, thank you for agreeing to this impromptu meeting. I know I might’ve taken you away from important duties or family time. I appreciate you being willing to join me.”

  There’s a ripple of responses from the group, indicating none of them found it to be a hardship. I can see how they respect him and look up to him—it’s visible in the way they watch him, their gazes never wavering. They don’t fiddle with their hands or glance at their watches. They give him their undivided attention, listening attentively, and it’s one of the most beautiful displays of leadership I’ve ever seen.

  Plus, I barely even recognize the calm, clear, professional tone Trystan’s pulled out of his back pocket for the occasion. I’m so busy watching him woo them that I hardly listen to the words he speaks. He smiles at the right moments. Gestures with his hands and laughs at himself when he trips over his own words once. He shines with charisma, and the longer he talks, the more every man and woman in the room begins to nod along with him.

  It’s when he brings up the children that they really jump on board. Every one of them straightens and leans in, and the movement is so obvious that it snaps me out of my affectionate daydream.

  “Right now, in the history of our pack, we have more children than ever before,” Trystan is saying as I zero in on him. “The past few years have been good to our people because we paid such close attention to ourselves. Our own safety. Our own needs. Our pack numbers have nearly doubled in five years’ time, and the new generation carries the promise of our future survival. Now, more than ever, it’s imperative we keep them safe.”

  These aren’t even entirely new ideas he’s laying out. A lot of these points were made at the meeting last night. But I get the feeling that it all sounds different to the gathered shifters now, because it’s coming from a man they respect—and it’s obvious to everyone in the room that Trystan believes in what he’s saying one hundred percent.

  “I know the idea of uprooting our lives seems daunting,” my mate goes on, his expression turning serious. “But I’d like to remind you, we’ve done it before. Fifty-two years ago, when my grandfather was alpha of this pack, we relocated from a barren plain halfway across the state to our current location here in the mountains. And it wasn’t an easy decision then either. But change, no matter how difficult, is often necessary. I truly believe it’s time for us to embrace a new future where all our local packs don’t just work together out of obligation, but because we want to. Because together, we will become stronger. Better. Safer.”

  I didn’t need convincing that the packs staying together was the right thing to do, but if I had needed it, this would have won me over.

  I almost expect the group to burst into enthusiastic applause as he finishes his speech. The way
they’ve been listening so intently that some of them haven’t even blinked in a while. Instead, they glance around at each other as if snapping out of a haze, and then one by one, they look back at Trystan and begin to nod.

  “In conclusion,” he says, “I hope you’ll join me in convincing the rest of our pack that the right move for us is to join forces with the East and North Packs. Can I count on you?”

  “It’s unprecedented.” A woman speaks up. She’s older, a grandmother maybe, with white hair and delicate lines beside her shrewd blue eyes. But she speaks with much more authority than I expected for a woman in a pink cardigan and sensible white tennis shoes. “As such, I doubt it will be easy. However, I’d like to throw my support behind you, Trystan. You’ve been the driving force behind our pack thriving these past few years, and I have no doubt you’ll continue to lift us to even greater heights.”

  “I have to agree,” one of the younger men says, nodding vehemently. “I’m honestly nervous about the idea, but if we can pull it off, I’m excited to see where it takes us.”

  A warm flutter works its way through my belly as I watch Trystan smile and thank his people. They chat a few moments more, discussing ways to approach the conversation and building a somewhat grassroots campaign meant to change the whole pack’s mind.

  When the meeting adjourns, I expect Trystan to be elated with the results—unanimous consent to help him spread the word and convince the pack to merge. Instead, he remains subdued and quiet, but not in a bad way. More… thoughtful.

  I let him mull over his thoughts in silence as we head back across town toward Archer’s house. I don’t want to push him into speaking before he’s ready, especially not if he’s building plans in his head or going over everything that was discussed with an eye on the rearview.

  We walk into the cool, dim interior of Archer’s house, and Trystan closes the door behind us. I turn, impatient to know what’s going through his mind, but before I can even utter a sound, I’m in his arms.