Book 1 of Alpha Wolf: Mate Mine

That evening, particularly mad, with an ominous darkness settling in and the wind howling with the wolves, forgotten and still alive, seemed orchestrated to persuade people to stay indoor.

Elena enjoyed a movie with her family and friends in the cozy living room of the pack house nestled in the heart of Full Moon.

Unbeknownst to them, elsewhere that was anything but cosy, someone was being beaten.

“Do you like life?” A voice echoed through the murky air, thick with the stench of decay, malevolence and worst things.

“I...I do!” A second voice, shaky and squeaky responded.

“Well then, explain why you decided to take a stroll across our border?” It seemed a simple request, the voice seemed reasonable if we heard it from a wall and didn’t see the face that produced it. “Trust me, it’s best to tell me, now, then them.”

Dim lights flickered sporadically, casting shadows that danced along the narrow, damp corridors. In the cells, only a handful of unlucky souls dwelled, their hollow eyes having long accepted their fate.

Once you entered, escape was an impossible dream, unless from inside a plastic bag.

Leave. The prisoner could only think about escaping that hell of a place. He eyed the door, assessing his chances against the guard stationed at the opposite corner, a mere low-ranking warrior. Fighting him was an option, but fleeing seemed the safer bet...Just as the guard turned his back to him.

His legs tensed, hope spiked.

He could make a break for it...

Before he could act on his impulse, chillness filled his ear. “I hope you decide to escape.”

The prisoner spun around, crouching.

A large figure with red eyes stood right next to him, though he hadn’t heard anything move or approach. “Go head. Run.”

Those crimson red eyes stared with the dead concentration of a restless hunter. “Run fast, run smart, call for help. Just know that I’ll come after you.”

Another man, taller and leaner, flaming hair and matching eyes sauntered forward with a smile and easy going attitude. But the artificial warmth in his eyes and obvious malevolence behind that smile terrified the prisoner more than red eyes did.

“Call down, Beta. Let our guest acclimate.” He turned to the prisoner and grinned, revealing a set of fangs that scared the prisoner´s soul away from his body. “Nice place, isn’t it?”

He then waved at the guard. “Leave.”

“Beta. Gamma,” he bowed, without meeting their eyes, and walked away.

“I wouldn’t try that again,” a third voice, deeper and seldom used, emerged from the shadows of the same cell.

“Please... I... I didn’t mean to...I swear! I got lost!” The squeaky voice of the prisoner seemed rushing, a tinge of desperation creeping in. “And I stepped over your border by mistake, before I could find my way around...my wolf doesn’t see well at night!”

This time, only muffled clicking and scraping sounds came as a response.

A blood-curdling scream tore through the whole prison; the grey walls and the well-fed rats the sole witnesses.

“W-why?”

A low, guttural growl rumbled. “Your revolting paws violated our territory.”

“It...hurts...”

“Oh, does it now?” The sweeter voice chimed in, “come on, just tell us what you were really doing. Don’t you want to keep all your fingers? You might still need them.” He even added a cheerful wink.

A weak, affirmative whine was the only response from the prisoner.

“Here we go… See? That wasn’t so difficult, hmm?” The first voice coaxed, “I will ask you again…why did you cross the border and try to run away when you spotted us?” This time, it felt like a concerned uncle speaking to a crying pup that just happened to scrape their knees after a naughty fall.

“I... I was sent to scout…to assess your, er, the northwest side of the border because of the river there-” the trembling prisoner stammered, fear palpable in every word, as he stared at the blood dripping from the gauze tied around his hand with what remained of his fingers.

His eyes didn’t dare to lift and meet those of his terrible captors…as if those red and orange pairs of eyes could turn him into destined-to-be-forgotten ashes.

“Here, have a sip. You did well.” The sweeter voice sounded even gentler as it offered a reward.

“Why the river?” The less-heard voice demanded.

“We…we….” The rogue tried to produce words, but it was hard with his body shaking from the trauma - and he didn’t know which one…being under the special attention of these two individuals or loosing three limbs.

“We what? Go on.” The sweet voice intervened again, a sickly gurgle accompanying each word as more water was forced into the prisoner’s mouth.

“Our Alpha... he sought to attack by crossing and hiding under water!” He blurted out, giving up to his captors.

Moon Goddess, he never anticipated encountering these two, nor did he imagine how far from reality were the stories he had heard about them.

Reality was far worse than the nightmares they had instilled in him and his people over the years. Ah, damn, he would have never agreed to come here if he had known he would face these two werewolves…

No. Not werewolves.

More like demons with fur and cruel fangs.

“Ssssh, it’s fine. You did very well.” A big hand stroked his long, tangled hair, “Now, who’s your Alpha, friend?”

Friend?

After another sniff, the prisoner uttered that name that had caused riots, silent assassinations and heartaches all over the packs.

“Lord Skull.”

The name was uttered with a sense of dread, like the tolling of funeral bells, each syllable resonating with a chilling finality.

“Very well then.” The sweet one announced, cracking his neck to the side, “finally, my reward…”

“What do you mean?” The prisoner asked, disbelief evident.

“I love it when you all relax…” a tongue seethed out from cruel, plush lips, tilted up, “the blood spills slower. Much….slower…and the final masterpiece is better, you know?”

Panic possessed the prisoner. “But you said…you said that if—”

The voice cut off.

How could he speak when his neck was no longer supporting his head?

A scoffed followed. “Did you have to? Look at all the mess.”

The other shrugged. “Our pets are starving.” As if to answered, the rats squeaked, agitating at their favourite red scent. “Let’s go. I’m parched.”

The silent body lay discarded there, a feast for the well-fed rats, a grim foreshadowing for the other prisoners.

His companion resumed his silent usual self as they ascended into the moonless night.

There was another reason for their readiness.

One pair of lips curled up as they both inhaled the air. “Alpha is back.”

If it weren’t for the familiar scent, the wolves would have been the giveaway.

Not werewolves.

But wild, simple yet humungous wolves that didn’t conceal any human within.

Some were curling down, a few standing, others sitting on their hind legs, their eyes reflected the same predatory gleam as the two towering figures before them.

Neither of the two parties seemed impressed. The Gamma and the Beta of Black Devil were accustomed to this sight, just as the wild wolves were accustomed to them, with the scent and strength of wolves, but the appearance of humans.

A theory circulated in the werewolf community: the mightier the Alpha, the more real wolves would be drawn to his dominance.

Leaving Gamma Rolando with the chore of having to kick the mutts away every few weeks, lest they decimate all the deer and boars in their Black Devil forests.

Their Alpha had finally returned from his travelling - although travel might not be the right term, but how could someone hope to describe where and what the Alpha did in the past month with mere human terminology?

Gamma, with his sinisterly sweet and slightly mocking tone, elbowed the Beta in his ribs. “Are you ready to tell him the great news?”

The Beta didn’t respond.

“A Beta power couple at Black Devil. Ah!” Gamma clicked his tongue, “Will you still be living in the cave?”

More silence followed.

“You know… Your mate´s nails are manicured and his hair combed to perfection. But oh, Im sure he will appreciate the rusty look of your home,” the Gamma continued, hoping to get a reaction from his friend and life brother.

All he received was a grunt.

Gamma smirked. “Do you think he will be okay with hunting his own dinners every day?”

“You are enjoying this.” It wasn’t a question, but a fact.

The Gamma snickered, showing his almost artificially white teeth. “It’s not everyday a Black Devil finds a mate…” he couldn’t recall when the last time it happened.

After a beat, he added, “Especially you.”

All the Beta did was purse his lips, surrounded by his thick, untamed beard. He wasn’t shaving before, and he certainly wasn’t going to start now…his new mate had already expressed a fondness for it.

As they strode in the quietness of the night, the roof of a large building emerged over the treetops.

The pack house loomed over them like a centuries-old watcher, witness to events best to kept in the past. That was the black heart of the Black Devil, pulsing, beating with unseen life.

Nobody seemed to be around, the first training at dawn only a few hours away. Just the pack house, cold and unforgiving like nature itself, uncaring of its inhabitants or their actions.

The Gamma and the Beta halted, then glanced over their shoulders. The dark shapes of trees concealing the beastly secrets of Black Devil and all their ghosts, stood still and omnious.

Nothing was there.

Until there was.

A shadow took shape and stepped forward. Someone else might have assumed it were one of those spirits haunting such a place…then again, if someone like that was there it would have been long dead.

The silhouette drew closer, thickening and towering—taller than any simple human, denser than just a shadow.

A large hand rose and scratched the middle of a bare chest matted with black hair and dried blood.

There they were: the leaders of a pack that invoked nightmares and thrived on a bloody past, reunited once again.

“Ah, look who is back from the mountains,” the Gamma smirked, his hand clasping the Alpha’s shoulder.

“The blood isn’t yours,” was all the Beta said, scenting the distinct smell.

One side of his lips kicked up, and a dimple made an appearance. “Correct.” The Alpha replied. The deep, husky voice was strange, slightly distorted.

The Gamma and Beta knew why: their Alpha hadn’t fully shifted back into his human form in quite some time. His ears were still elongated, blood dripped down the side of his chest, partially covered by fur, and yellowish claws were still visible on his toes and fingers. Strands of longer than usual dark hair drew the eye to the rise of his cheekbones.

And his eyes, normally an almost artificial shade of turquoise, now glowed with a dangerous dark-blue spark.

There were many rumors about the Alpha, some odder than others—tales of stormy eyes that if, quite literally, you were to watch attentively, you could spot lightning and thunder swirling within.

Alpha Mirko likely reverted to his semi-human form only upon nearing the pack house’s perimeter, to avoid frightening the females and the children, and some of the men. Not that, in his current state, he resembled your average friendly pack member.

Because he didn’t. Completely at ease with his nakedness, half-shift, mud, leaves and blood clinging to him, with a single twig dangling from one midnight black lock, Alpha Mirko strode into the house, flanked by his Gamma and Beta.

They strolled inside, not with the alpha in front. They were next to each other, no supremacy showed. A few pack members bowed their heads before scurrying away or retreating through secondary doors.

“How was your... stay in the wild?” Gamma asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Liberating as usual…” The Alpha drawled, rolling his shoulders. “Long overdue…”

They reached a spacious kitchen and took seat on high stools.

“How are the Full Moon pups? Have they…settled at Redwood?”

Gamma flicked his waist. “They are quite docile. No any particular issues, apart from some exchanges of strong words ... oh, and a little scuffle on their first day.” He licked his lips, smirked, and cast a long wink at Beta Crucifero.

This didn’t escape the Alpha’s notice. He lifted a questioning eyebrow.

Several matters were to be discussed, some more amicably than others…but this, here, seemed different.

Movement came to their left. Alpha Mirko nodded at the girl in charge for the night shift for that section of the pack house. She was a small thing, dark hairs trailing over her arms and poking out from under her arms. She bowed low, almost low enough to mop the floor with her hair. “Alpha…”

The Alpha was back and was famished. And she knew it, no need for him to spell it out.

And he didn’t have to specify his needs—everyone knew them.

Raw and bloody.

“Hmm, Full Moon is an ignorable pack, on the weak side. Ah, their pups train only three times a week,” Alpha Mirko rubbed his chin, suspecting that weak spirits were behind the fights in the corridors or perhaps simple immaturity. “Who started the fight?” He rested his elbows on the table.

“Ours.” Beta Crucifero swiftly answered, his voice firm, “The high-ranked members of Full Moon merely defended themselves.”

Mirko didn’t miss the number of words his Beta used. Usually Gamma did all the jabbering.

His chin dropped onto his palm as he studied his Beta. The kitchen was dim, none of them needed lights. The glow from their eyes and the light from a dozen of buzzing fridges and ovens would be what the human eye would see in that moment.

“And you know that because…” Mirko trailed off.

They might have done a few years of high school back in the day, without graduating. Life had been their private teacher, a robber of their childhood and a traditional education.

A different girl, an omega, shuffled in and plonked a big tray of raw meat in front of her Alpha; her face as red as the bloody meat as she stole quick glances at her Alpha.

Her alpha never bothered with clothes, real wolves never did, though he understood he had to wear them for certain occasions.

“Welcome back A-Alpha,” she stuttered, blushing so much that she could have been a lantern in that darkness.

“Thank you, Milly,” Mirko mumbled, giving her a brief glance.

“Is there…anything else?” She asked, her eyes not daring to overcome the Alpha’s chin-

“You can scram now,” all Beta Crucifero did was talking. The young girl bolted like she had a pack of rogues at her heels.

Mirko hummed as he tore a piece of meat off the rib with his teeth and chewed slowly. There weren’t more things he loved more than his meat. “And I thought that a mate could make you sweeter.” He said it serious, almost as a matter of fact, yet a glint shone in those tenebrous eyes.

Burgundy eyes widened. “How did you…” Beta Crucifero trailed off before his hand clasped over his neck, where his new mark dwelled. Still new to this, he forgot everyone else could see it too. Hell, some days he had to remind himself he even had a mate and didn’t imagine the whole thing.

“Your scent is different. You now smell like someone else’s territory,” Mirko drawled, already halfway through his precious meat.

The three of them ate in silence for a while. Mirko didn’t push it, but he needed to know the identity of a future pack member - surely they would move here. He assumed the mate wasn’t from Black Devil either.

“And who is the lucky one?”

Black Devil wasn’t renowned to have wolves with fated mates. Black Devil couldn’t get mates. They were cursed. Yadda yadda. Mirko knew this bullshit was just that…bullshit created by his alpha ancestors to control the pack.

His best friend, his brother in all but blood gifted to him under tenebrous circumstances, and the Beta of his pack had somehow found himself a mate, despite his rough demeanor, vicious reputation, and a bloody history.

Crucifero scratched the back of his neck and inhaled from his mouth, the answer crawling out of him… But not fast enough.

“The son of Full Moon Beta!” Rolando blurted out, with a grin threatening to split his face.

His statement was followed by laughter and Crucifero’s low growls.

Now, Mirko wasn’t the type of werewolf to be easily surprised, but this was definitely one of those moments.

“Full Moon, huh?” His fingers rubbed his chin.

“Yes, his name is Marco…” the difference in the tone didn’t go unnoticed. Gamma Rolando and Alpha Mirko widely smiled at one another before focusing on their usual brooding Beta.

“Congratulations is the right sentiment then, brother?” Mirko clapped him on the back, earning a smile that was more like a grimace.

If Mirko believed in fated mates for Black Devil just like any other pack, he wasn’t so sure about himself. His father had drilled into him how none of their Alpha ancestors, including himself, had ever found a mate.

Mirko never dwelled on the possibility of having a mate. His mind worked in a straightforward, practical way, focused on tackling one problem at a time. With a pack on his shoulders and their future in his hands, he didn’t have time to think about females, let alone a mate. For all he knew, a mate was just another responsibility, one he didn’t particularly need. He was content with things the way they were. Eventually, he would choose the appropriate candidate and father a bunch of heirs with her consent.

But living together or being exclusive wasn’t something he needed or wanted.

He couldn’t imagine doing things differently if he ever found his fated mate.

“Should I set a meeting with Full Moon Alpha?” Gamma Rolando inquired, chomping down on a juicy burger and thick steak simultaneously. Crucifero wasn’t thrilled about that. He needed to figure out where they were going to live. Right now, he was just living in the forest of Black Devil, at times in a cave at the edge of the forest. But he had seen his mate’s bedroom. It had a bed, sheets, two wardrobes full of clothes. Oh, and his own bathroom too. Stress mounting, the beta clenched and unclenched his hands.

They hashed out the details, discussing everything from living arrangements to potential pack alliances, until the first sliver of light peeked over the treetops, as if the sun itself was stretching awake.

More food was brought.

“Tell me more about the Full Moon teenagers,” Mirko said once his third plate was clean.

“They don’t leave much of an impression and looked a bit plump,” Crucifero commented.

“Hmm, their arms are more suited for lifting pens and books than tree trunks and rocks. And they seem to do okay at school.” Gamma said as he took out a splinter and made it a toothpick.

“Is Marco well-protected?” Mirko gazed at his Beta.

“Now he is,” came the grunt in response.

“And who are his friends?” Mirko tipped his head. They’d want to visit him when Marco transferred here, and Mirko needed to make sure his patrol wouldn’t accidentally turn these plump teenagers into lunch.

He sighed. This was more work he had anticipated.

“Marco´s got a sister…she likes to dance.”

The three of them winced. That was worst than they thought. A werewolf that danced? Jesus.

“And it looks like his other two close friends are the Gamma’s son and the Alpha’s daughter.”

Mirko hummed. It was common for kids of his rank to stick together, since they usually grew up closer and trained together.

“I see… Giacomo’s daughter. How’s the little rat?” Mirko asked casually.

He’d heard the Full Moon Alpha’s daughter was nothing to write home about—small and squeaky, like a mouse.

Gamma Rolando licked his lower lips, collecting some blood from the meat. “Male students talked about her, they seemed to get in heat around her for how much they panted. Apparently she is appealing to the cocks and noses.” Mirko bet his Gamma wouldn’t even notice the female if she passed by him. He was taken long ago, and happily so.

Alpha Mirko pondered how Alpha Giacomo had a human for a mate, Luna Elisa, and how they only had one offspring. A female. Such a bad luck for an Alpha, a rat that causes heat in males for a pup and a fragile human as a mate. Alpha Giacomo was lucky Mirko wasn’t like his dead father, or he would have found his territory snatched from him overnight.

“She touched my mate.” Crucifero growled under his breath, his eyes flickering with rage.

One corner of the Alpha’s mouth curved up. This was knew. “They have probably been friends for a long time. Let your mate free, would you?” Mirko grinned. Another thing he would never feel: jealousy. Mate or not, his future companion could do whatever and whoever she wanted, just like him.

Beta Crucifero scoffed, red eyes narrowing. “Yeah, sure, you talk because you haven’t met your own mate yet.”

“I would let her do whatever she fancies. As it should be,” Mirko sobered up and stood up, pushing his shoulders back. Ah, being in his half-human form took some getting used to after a month in his wolf.

Beta Crucifero glanced outside, using the best, most accurate watch to figure out the time: the sunlight. They all had duties to see to,—Crucifero with the young ones’ training, Rolando with his mate and entertaining her, and Mirko with piles of documents and requests from other packs to review.

“Open relationship? Interesting…” Rolando and Crucifero exchanged a knowing look—a knowledge only granted to those who found their fated mates.

“Sharing is caring.” Mirko shrugged.

“Sharing is murdering.” Rolando corrected. Cucifero brought the plates to one of the sinks, letting water wash off the blood from the raw venison. Rolando dried them while Mirko placed them back in the cupboard. It was an unusual sight, as Mirko and Crucifero preferred to eat in the woods and get their own food. And Rolando had company back home—his tiny female, sheltered and hidden.

They didn’t have servants at Black Devil, not since they ruled. Pack members rotated on schedule to clean and groom the house; everyone from the pups to the elderly had to stick to a mandatory training schedule. Just because you were old or too young, it didn’t mean you had no muscles.

“Just because the two of you have a mate, doesn’t mean I need to have one. None of the Alphas of this pack have ever had one and they did just….” He paused to bent down and drink some cold water from the sink. Standing up, the back of his hand swiped his face.

“And they are all dead,” Rolando reminded him. They all grinned, satisfied with the fact.

“Your mate will not want to share you, and she surely won’t want to live away from you,” Crucifero chimed in.

Mirko paused, considering their words. He always considered other people’s thoughts. What he did with these thoughts was another matter.

“It doesn’t matter to me.” He concluded slightly horrified at the idea of having a female clinging to him. Mates tended to be like that. Yes, it was better he didn’t find his mate, if he had one. “If she exists, she will know her place.” At this point, Mirko preferred to pick one.

Rolando slammed his hands together, raised his arms, and gazed skyward. “Ah, please Moon Goddess, you know I never talk to you or bother you with stupid prayers…grant my alpha friend a mate.”

Crucifero pursed his lips, shoulders shaking a little as he contained his laughter.

Mirko glanced at his friend, glad to see hewas having fun, even if at his expense. “You’ll be disappointed.”

Walking outside, Mirko barely glanced at the wild wolves that trailed behind him, their eyes reflecting light.

“I will visit Redwood High sometime this week.”

At the edge of the territory, but on neutral land, Redwood needed to shore up their defenses considering the increase in attacks. His pack members could hold their own, but it was Mirko´s duty to ensure their safety, including that of his Beta´s new mate and his friends.

Mirko didn’t put much faith in the power of mates; he hadn’t had much experience with it in his life. But he’d be damned if he let his friend’s heart get crushed.

Rolando cocked a brow in surprise. “You haven’t changed your mind?”

“No. Still on track,” Mirko said, the steely determination in his voice giving no hint to the moment of hesitation.

“Good,” Crucifero muttered, not bothering to hide his relief. “They need to be prepared.”

“The students won´t be thrilled about all the extra training,” Rolando snickered, as if the idea of groaning students amused him. Which it did.

“About that.” Rolando added, his expression serious now. “We caught another sack of rubbish from Lord Skull sniffing around the border.”

Mirko´s eyes blazed with rage. “Where is he now?” He seethed, his voice already altering.

“With the rats.” Crucifero said casually.

A nod. “Good.”

It seemed more urgent that he’d anticipated.

“Tomorrow,” he declared, as the wild wolves heads snapped up and drew closer to Mirko, his hand reaching out to stroke one of the light brown heads, “Tomorrow, “I’ll be joining one of the extra personal defense sessions.”

With that, they went their separate ways. Mirko headed to his office, where there was much planning and organizing to be done. Business had to start, but not before Mirko changed into some human clothes. No shoes, though; he refused to be confined. The way they trapped his feet made him feel more constrained than ever….but not as much as having a mate.