Alpha's Hidden Luna (sample)

PART 1 | HELENA

10 years ago

“Helena,” comes my mother’s whisper.

I sit up on my bed and look at the red digits in my alarm clock. It’s seven AM. Time to get up to prepare for school.

“Hey ma,” I reply as I stretch my arms over my head, pulling my crumpled t-shirt down my belly.

“Go downstairs and have breakfast, sweetheart. Be good, okay?”

The soundproof walls block all outside sounds, but at this time, the packhouse is bustling with footsteps and chatter. Thirty families live here, but my mother and I stick to ourselves. We’re the mysterious neighbors.

I jump out of bed and fix the sheets. After a quick shower, I kiss my mother’s cheek, carry my book-bag and head downstairs for the breakfast buffet.

I greet no one. Only muttering a thank-you to an older pack member that hands me an empty plate. I sit alone on a two-person table, looking out the window and the high school in the distance. It’s better that I’m alone.

I don’t look forward to school. It’s excruciatingly boring, because there’s nothing new to learn. I’ve read so many books, absorbing every bit of information, that my education is much more advanced than my 12th grade curriculum.

Teachers have tried to approach my mom about advanced classes, but she fears putting me in the spotlight, so advanced classes are forbidden.

Keep your head low, and be good. That’s her mantra.

Heads bow, and when the Alpha’s scent reaches me, I lower my head as well.

Alpha Driftwood greets his pack members. He’s a good man. Took in my mother and I when we transferred to this pack a year ago with a suspiciously long transfer record. He looked into my mother’s haunted, frightened eyes and allowed us into his territory without question.

This is our tenth pack. We’ve been running from something–or someone. A ghostly enemy that keeps my mother up at night. She refuses to tell me what’s stopping us from setting down roots. She insists that the only way to survive is by uprooting ourselves every few years.

I’m getting tired of running. Tired of not being able to make true connections in fear of leaving my friends in the dust.

I stare at the window in class, not bothering to open my textbook. My teachers have long learned not to punish my distraction by ordering me to the whiteboard because although I’m not paying attention. I’ll answer their questions every time.

My calculus teacher announces there will be a test next week. Most students groan, but I’m not one of them. I do calculus for fun at night when I can’t sleep.

I remind myself that least I’ll be graduating soon. I might take college classes if my mother doesn’t decide to play re-location roulette again.

I hand in my homework at the end of class and follow the waves of students outside.

There’s a buzz in the air. The Alpha’s heir is returning home today after a one-year absence. Alpha Octavius had been apprenticing at neighboring packs. Last time I saw him, I was sixteen and at risk of fainting at his feet. He’s a handsome man—man, not a boy. He has always been older than me by a few years.

He’s kind like his father. Our only encounter happened years ago, when I was straining to reach a book in the library. He strutted his six-foot-six figure over to me, said some words that I was too shocked to process, and handed me the book with a chuckle.

I still have the book in my room. I’ve yet to return it.

There was a strange undercurrent of energy when our fingertips touched—subtle and quick, but not a figment of my imagination. And yet I doubt he felt it because he showed no reaction. He has so many girls vying for him that he has probably experienced real chemistry elsewhere.

I adjust my bookbag on my shoulder, forcing myself to forget about the handsome Alpha with the perfect smile and tattooed hand.

We will never cross paths again, anyway.

“Helena!” My mom pushes the bedroom door open, setting a bucket of cleaning supplies on the ground.

“Guess what!”

I smile at her adoringly. It’s rare that she shows such childish excitement.

“I spoke with my boss. Told her you were graduating soon. She said you’re welcome to work in gardening or cleaning!”

Oh. I see what this is about.

“That’s great,” I reply, forcing a smile. I don’t have the heart to react otherwise.

This isn’t what I dreamed of doing. I want to apply my education. Work with chemists to create formulas for better farming fertilizer instead of watering flowers all day.

But of course I can’t tell my mother that.

I’m meant to stay hidden. To not have any achievements or intelligence. To become a wallpaper like her, cleaning and looking over my shoulder all day.

I can’t have a life. I’m bound to run forever. And although I’m becoming an adult soon, that won’t change anything. I don’t have the backbone to declare that I’m done running, because that would mean separating from her. My mom is all I have. If she runs, I will be right at her heels, running with her.

“I’m going to go for a walk, mom. I’ll be back.”

“Okay. Be sure to—”

“Be sure to avoid the territory line. Yes, I know.”

She has imposed many odd rules, but the strictest one is to never approach the territory line. It’s like she fears I’ll get snatched away.

My curiosity about our fugitive lifestyle has been burning my entire life. I always stop pressing for questions when she gets stressed, but I’m reaching a breaking point. Once I become an adult, I’ll demand to know who we’re running from. I deserve the truth.

I walk past her, feeling a heavy load on my shoulders although I left my backpack in the room beside my bed.

I sigh as I pull my hair down from my ponytail and push my sleeves up my elbows—something else my mom discourages. She hates when I show too much skin, and I’ve never understood why.

I turn right toward the staircase and my nostrils are overwhelmed by the reek of alcohol.

A male figure turns the corner as well, his massive body catapulting me backward.

It’s not his bulk that shocks me, it’s the electricity that ripples across my skin and stirs my wolf. Beneath the reek of alcohol, I find an appealing scent. An addicting musk I’ve never smelled before.

Mate, my wolf acknowledges.

I look at the male, who is so drunk he stumbles backward against a wall.

Alpha Octavius?! Oh my goodness. He’s my fucking mate!

He groans and touches his forehead, lifting his head to meet my eyes.

I do what I’m best at and run the fuck out of there.

PART 2

ALPHA OCTAVIUS

I sit across my father’s desk, waiting for him to enter the office.

I crack my knuckles as I scan the room. I’ve been here plenty of times throughout my life, but today I see it through different eyes. I see it in a new capacity because I’m finally inheriting my father’s kingdom.

Twelve pack houses, five hundred souls, and the land that has been in my family line for generations. I’m finally Alpha Octavius.

My wolf is restless inside me, eager for a run. There’s something in the air that’s driving him wild. I can only assume it’s the scent of a new beginning. The power that’s coursing into me with every ticking hour.

He wants to howl who the dominant wolf of this territory is.

The door clicks open, and my father enters. “Octavius,” he chuckles.

I rise and set a hand over my heart, offering my father the highest greeting. He steps up to me and embraces me, slapping my back.

“I’m proud of you.” He smiles. I scan his face, in disbelief of how much older he looks.

When I was away for my apprenticeship, training for the Alpha title, I would video call him every few weeks. He looked younger through the camera.

He had me at an older age. That’s because he met my mother, his mate, later in life. The consequences have never been so apparent.

“Thanks dad.”

He walks around his desk. “Go on and celebrate. Tomorrow, we can discuss your report of residency evaluations.”

“I had a question about that, actually. I came across a family with an erratic transfer record. A mother and a daughter. Helena and...I forgot the mother’s name.”

He nods. “Yes, they have bounced from packs for years, but they have been no trouble since they settled here. Don’t worry about their residency. I can sense the good in them.”

That’s the difference between my father and I. He has always been more empathetic. Able to read a person with a mere glance. I didn’t inherit his skill. My wolf is always on guard, naturally distrusting of everyone. I figure that I’m not missing out on much. I can always beat the truth out of any threat to my pack, accomplishing the same goal as my father.

“Go celebrate, Octavius. You are still a kid. The Alpha duties can wait.”

He’s right. I’ve spent the last two years working my ass off. Training my body for combat and my senses for hunting. A celebration is long overdue.

Maybe a few beers will calm my wolf down. He has been insufferably on edge, anticipating something I cannot read.

“You’re right. We will continue this tomorrow, then.”

I run a hand through my hair and head for the door.

“Go for a run, son. It looks like your wolf needs it.”

I chuckle. “The anxious bastard won’t rest unless I put him to sleep. I need to drink.”

“You deserve it.”

I dip my chin and head out, stretching my arms over my head. It’s good to be home. The pack has certainly missed me, especially the unmated females that stare at me with twinkling hope in their eyes. My wolf has howled for no one yet. Our mate has not crossed us.

But if she’s here, then it’s only a matter of time before I run into her. No one hides from the Alpha.

***

The party rages around me. Music and the scent of food overwhelms my senses, so I keep taking swings of beer to numb them.

My pack members surround me, celebrating my return home.

I take another swing of my beer, realizing that I finished it. I’ve long lost track of how many beers I’ve had—and my shirt. What the fuck happened to my shirt?

I foggily remember a football game that I played with the men. Females gathered around and gawked, their attention snared around me.

There are dozens of them at this party, varying in age. The ones around mating aging giggle and whisper their fantasies to their friends.

Another male would be flattered by the spotlight, but I only find frustration because I haven’t met my mate in this party. I’ve resided in three packs over my life, crossing thousands of females, but none awaken my wolf.

I need to fucking find her. I can’t repeat my father’s curse, choosing a Luna and finding my mate at an older age. I will never settle with a chosen Luna.

There’s something addicting about the mate I haven’t even met yet. I crave the magic she will bring. I’ve always been one to push my body to its limits in training and can’t wait to discover what new sensations she will stir inside me. How will she enhance the wildness in me?

I need her more than the moon needs stars.

A few hours and many beers later, I’m completely wasted. The party was a blast, but the bonfire is dying and everyone is retiring.

I stumble into the pack house, my thoughts tangled. I think about all the paperwork I have to complete tomorrow. There’s a sense of excitement and pride. I want to start serving my pack as Alpha. I want to put my training into practice.

I put one foot in front of the other, so drunk that my wolf feels distant. I can’t sense him.

Turning a corner, it takes me a second to realize I’ve run into a person. Based on their size, it’s a female. A tiny female that’s rocked backwards by my bulk. That’s as much as I can gather. My senses are numb and my vision blurry.

How many fucking beers did I have? 30? 40? Enough to kill a human, that’s for sure.

The female runs off before I can mutter an apology. Before I can catch a glimpse of her face.

I chuckle.

A female, running away from me? That’s a first.