Huntress and The Alpha

7. All Work and No Play

Quinn

The enormous stack of papers in front of me loomed like a poorly built skyscraper. Why did it never seem to go down despite sitting here for hours? Even with all the new technology, the werewolf world was still outdated.

I rubbed my gritty eyes. Plenty of wolves wanted to be the alpha of a pack, but few realized the level of paperwork involved. They thought it was all, seeing off rogues and ordering people about.

I itched to shift and run in the woods, to feel the wind in my fur and the dirt below my paws. It was the feeling of freedom and the best way to clear my head. However, that course of action would not get this paperwork done, nor would it address the omnipresent issues the pack seemed to generate. I knew in my heart that serving and protecting my pack was an honor, but sometimes, all work and no play made Alpha Quinn a dull boy.

“Too much reading, not enough running,” said my disgruntled wolf.

“I know, buddy, but they rely on us.”

“It would be better with a mate.”

“Preaching to the choir here, buddy,” I sighed.

The truth was, I thought my mate must be dead. I’d not found her, nor had I ever felt the pull to go somewhere to search. Many wolves said they felt a pull before they suddenly happened upon their predestined.

“Mate isn’t dead!” My wolf huffed.

No matter how often we had this pointless conversation, he refused to believe our mate was dead. It was pointless to argue. I didn’t want it to be true either, but I was the more practical one of the two of us.

“Mate isn’t dead.” He retreated into my mind in a huff.

Great, paperwork and a grumpy wolf. My day was improving! I forced my train of thought back to the matters at hand. I grasped the first piece of paper on the pile. A request from a young male wolf for relocation to another dwelling, he had found his mate. Lucky pup. This eighteen-year-old pup already had what my wolf and I so desperately wanted.

I shook the thought off and reminded myself that more mates meant a stronger pack. Warriors with mates fought extra hard, knowing what was at stake if they failed. They worked harder and contributed more to the community. It was the same with a luna. The desire to protect her and, by extension, the alpha was very strong. It was the reason why so few alphas chose a non-fated luna, as it created a weak link in the chain. Pack magic was stronger with a destined pair leading them. Frankly, I’d rather rule alone than give up on my mate, regardless of my conjecture over her fate.

A knock at the door drew me from my wistful thoughts. My mom and dad walked in. They always looked like a sight to see, like yin and yang. Mom's smiling face lit up at the sight of me. The morning sun glinted off her pale blond hair as her kind gray eyes, the same shade as mine, looked me up and down.

“Quinn, baby, you look tired. When did you last take a break?” Her button nose wrinkled up as she took in the office.

Perhaps it smelled in here? Was I putrefying in my paperwork jail? The twinge on my lower back told me I had indeed been sitting too long. I stood and moved around the desk to embrace her. Her citrus scent tickled my nose and calmed me.

“Hi, mom, always looking out for your babies, eh?” I placed a kiss on her temple and set her down. She was so short, a whole foot smaller than dad and me. My two brothers and I called her pocket mom until she threatened to shave off our eyebrows while we slept. She was a serene and empathetic luna, but she had a mischievous side too!

“Leave him be, Amber. He’s the alpha of one of the biggest packs in the States. He doesn’t need his mommy telling him to take a break.” My dad’s voice boomed through the office.

There was no heat to his words. He gazed at her like she had hung the moon. They had been mated for years, and he still revered her like a goddess. They were a textbook example of perfect mates.

My dad was the total opposite of my mom. Where she was delicate and petite, he was huge, the same height as me at 6 foot 4 inches, but a thicker set. His hair was dark like mine, but with brown eyes like my younger twin siblings. Unlike us, he was scarred up all over, but mostly on his face and hand. He had been a brutal alpha before he met my mother. Their story was the stuff of legend.

“What brings you to see me this morning? I thought you said you weren’t coming back to the pack house till there were grandbabies?”

A pang rang through me. Would I ever be able to provide them with grandbabies? When they high-tailed out of here to live in the village after dad passed the alpha title to me at 21, they told me babies were the only circumstance that would bring them back. I was 26 now, and it’s not like they never came around, but mostly I would visit them in the village.

“I don’t need a reason to visit my biggest boy.” Mom had settled in dad’s lap, where he sat on one of the visitor’s chairs.

“Just wanted to check things were okay with your brother still away,” said my dad.

So, they were checking on me.

“Not because I don’t think you can handle it, but because it makes things busier. You have the corporation and two packs. You don’t even have a full team.” My mother went on. Her sixth sense had recognized my upset.

“I have a team.” I felt the need to defend them.

“Sure, son, but when I was alpha, I had a luna and a mated beta and gamma. You’re running on half a squad. That’s without your running your security firm.”

It was true; my beta and gamma were both unmated, like me, a fact they and my brother liked to blame me for. I hadn’t broken the seal, whatever that meant.

“What am I supposed to do about that?” My irritation rose.

“Ask for help,” he replied.

“I thought you were retired? I can’t go running to my parents every time things get busy here.”

“I’d call it more, letting your family help. You’ve got a younger brother and sister, too.”

“Alaina and Aidan are busy doing their own things.”

My younger siblings were twins, and at only nineteen, they were doing what most nineteen-year-olds do - whatever they liked.

“At their age, I ran this whole pack. I had been doing it since I was sixteen. I’m sure your siblings could handle a bit of responsibility,” said dad.

I guess I hadn’t thought about it. I could divide up some jobs and ask for help. That wouldn’t get me any closer to finding my luna, however.

“It would give us time to see her when we do,” said my wolf.

“Smart ass.”

“Okay, I’ll think about it.” I blew out a breath and rubbed my hand over my face.

“You could do with a secretary to handle all this paperwork, too.” Mom plucked a heavy envelope with a gold seal from the pile. “Oh, it’s from father.”

I groaned, and my dad growled. I shuffled that one back to the bottom repeatedly. It was from the werewolf king - my grandfather. My mom slit the envelope open, popping the seal off, and took out the contents as if it contained a letter bomb.

My grandfather practically started a war when my parents met. He still hates my father, and his relationship with my mom is strained. She is his only daughter. His mate, my grandmother, was killed before they could have more. He never went feral, but I don’t think my mom’s childhood was a happy one.

“It’s an invitation to a royal ball. For you and your luna.”

“The old man grows more meddlesome each year,” said dad. The scars on his cheek were pulled tight by his scowl.

“Where does he expect me to magic a luna from?”

The old coot was constantly on about me taking a luna so I could take the crown. Plenty of wolves would kill to be alpha king, me not so much. I liked my pack, my company, and my family. Sure, I wanted my mate, but I didn’t want one, so I could take on even more responsibility.

I snagged the heavily weighed paper from my mom. “I’ll pen a reply and just skirt the luna issue. He could do with moving into the 21st century and getting email.”

Mom snorted. “Sure, when hell freezes over.”

“He’s so traditional. Does he think that will continue when I take over? I run a high-tech company. I’m not writing things on embossed paper and sending them by pigeon!”

My dad snorted this time. “You’ve got your work cut out for you in modernizing the werewolf world.”

Even my dad had been slow to embrace things at first. He told me my fancy computer courses at college wouldn’t lead to much useful in the wolf world. He ate his words eventually as I grew my security firm into a multimillion-dollar company that now funds the pack.

“If I can get an old dinosaur like you to use a computer, I’m sure I’ll manage.” I winked at him.

“Old dinosaur!” He swelled indignantly. “I’ll have you know I could still kick your ass, alpha or not!”

“Keep telling yourself that, old man,” I bated him. “Anyway, if you took me down–however unlikely–you’d be alpha again, and all this would be yours once again.” I swept my hand out to show my messy desk.

His indignation gave way to consternation at the thought. It was true that even retired as he was, he might take me. He was a vicious fighter and taught me everything I knew. I knew he loved retirement, though. My mother smoothed his hair and kissed him on the temple. He melted back into her arms and looked at her with adoration I almost had to turn away from.

When had I grown jealous of my mother and father? They taught me the sacred nature of the mate bond and embodied it daily, but now it tasted sour in my mouth.

“You’ll find her.” My mother’s tone was kind.

Sixth-sense, that woman.

I ran a hand down my face again. “When, mom? When?” I tried to keep the petulant teenage tone down but failed.

“I have a good feeling, Quinn. Soon.”

I wished she was right.

“Have you heard from your twin?” Dad never talked about emotions, and I was thankful for a change of subject. I wasn’t sure what was wrong with me today.

“Yep, he linked me to say he would be there for another week or two. They had zero border control, and training drills were terrible. He set up a new regime but wants it cemented in.”

“Poor border control is inexcusable,” dad said and growled.

His number one pet hate was poor border control, followed closely by a lack of warrior training. Quinlan, or Lan as we called him, my fraternal twin brother, had gone to Seattle to help Alpha Simon, a friend of dad’s, to get his rogue problem under control. He had been gone a few weeks.

“Lan is whipping them into shape, that’s for sure.” My brother was a hardass. He was much more hot-headed than me and would have blown a gasket when he arrived.

“That Crescent Moon Alpha should have asked us for help like Alpha Simon did.” Dad shook his head. A look of sadness washed over him.

The neighboring pack’s alpha lost his luna and child to rogues five years back because of poor border control and insufficient patrols. He never asked us for help when the smaller herald attacks began. His losses sent him feral, and he began executing pack members for minor infringements. We only found out when a bloody pack member appeared at our borders, he was half-dead, and his only crime had been to cook the wrong meal. Luckily, now that beaten wolf owns a bakery in our pack village. Dad had Lan challenge the alpha for control of Crescent Moon. There were only two hundred-odd wolves, but they needed a leader. It was an excellent strategic move, as I had recently taken over as alpha here, and Lan and I were ready to kill each other. I love my brother dearly, but we have very different ideas and styles.

“Some people are too proud or stubborn to ask for help,” my mother said pointedly.

“Hey, that’s an unfair comparison. Our pack and Lan’s are safer than Fort Knox!” I felt insulted.

“That’s not what your mother meant, son.”

I deflated. “I know, I know. Once Lan gets back, we’ll look at everything.”

“Okay, well, you know where we are if you need us.” My mom stood, and my father scooped her up. “Put me down, you brute!” She squealed with laughter.

“I remembered the times we spent in here when I was alpha.” His tone was gravelly as he appraised her with heat in his eyes.

Ugh. He wasn’t referencing doing paperwork. “My eyes!” I covered them over dramatically.

Peals of laughter issued from mom as my dad carried her out of the room. It wouldn’t be the first time I witnessed their still very amorous relationship. Again, I had to tamp down the jealousy that rose in me. Would my luna be delicate like my mom or a warrior? Why was I back wondering about my mate?

I wrote a reply to my grandfather, avoiding the luna issue. I couldn’t take a supermodel date as I would in the human corporate world I frequented. Taking a she-wolf to the palace would be tantamount to a marriage proposal.

“Unless we find mate before then,” said my wolf, as he perked up at the back of my mind.

“Keep on dreaming back there, buddy!” I replied.