Mated To The Cold Hearted Alpha

The illicit heat

LEANDER'S POV

"Why?!!!" I roared out my frustration and prowled across the room like a caged animal, then back again, stopping only to hurl a bottle of hundred-year-old Scotch across the room at a bookcase. I watched the glass break, amber liquid saturating the books and yelled at the top of my lungs, "Why her?! Why couldn't it be anybody but her?!" Clearly, the Moon had it out for me, the sly b***h. Because there was no more hilarious mistake than making that female my mate!

My father sat reclined in a comfortable chair, utterly unaffected by my foul mood. When he could get a word in edgewise, he asked evenly, "Are you ready to tell me why you're having a temper tantrum like a two-year-old and destroying the study?"

I growled and flashed fang.

Instantly, he was on his feet and in my face, a sustained growl reverberating in his chest. Even in his fifties, the man was cut with rugged bulk and muscle, hewn and cultivated over thirty years as Alpha of Adamant Moon. He was respected, and he was feared.

And I wasn't sure if I wanted to duke out my frustrations at the present moment. I could beat him, but it would be painful. And bloody. I sighed heavily, a signal that I was currently not interested in a fist fight, but I might take him up on it later, should my frustration push me over the edge.

He gave a short nod as if understanding all of that nonsense in my head without me speaking, and returned to his chair. He sipped his whiskey and used the back of his hand to wipe away any remaining droplets of alcohol from his salt-and-pepper beard.

I stared at him in contemplation.

Dark eyes glazed over, not seeing the glass in his hand as he absentmindedly brought it to his mouth. He was a contradiction-brute strength, yet irreparably damaged. Because no matter his continued powerful physique, the loss of his mate, my mother, haunted his eyes and vexed his soul, leaving him a shell of his former self.

At least, he'd had a mate he loved, I thought bitterly. The joke was on me. I had no love for my mate. Just a festering disgust and distaste in my mouth that I wanted to spew out, but couldn't quite get rid of. What the hell was I going to do with her when I finally had her? I was so f****d.

And then I stopped, my mind rolling over potential scenarios.

A wicked smirk curled on my face.

I might hate her, but I also might get delicious satisfaction in using up her hot little body to satisfy my deepest carnal desires. Maybe I'd keep her on a pretty little collar. Leashed to my bed. She didn't have to be my mate. She could be my little w***e instead.

And when I was done using her until she gave me the only thing she was truly good for, an heir, I would toss her aside or kill her, or whatever was convenient for me at the time.

Yes, that was a much better idea.

Of course, I could do none of that until I captured her. And then, I would also have to wait until she became of age for anything physical, because no matter how big of a prick I was, I had zero interest in touching juvenile shewolves.

Fuck. At this point, I didn't even know her name, let alone her age. She had to still be in her teens. Her innocence had been too evident, too pronounced to be otherwise. I wondered if she'd even shifted yet. My Wolf rumbled his appreciation. He liked her untouched innocence. He licked his lips at the thought of running his tongue over that sweet flesh when we made her ours. I rolled my eyes and told him to get a grip. We still had years to wait.

However...that didn't mean I couldn't enjoy torturing her in the meantime. Nothing too painful for now. More humiliation than anything else. Maybe the collar idea wasn't so bad. Not chained to my but I could find some suitable place to put her on display as my little pet. Hmm...so many possibilities.

My father pulled me out of my dark fantasies. "Do you want some company for the conversation you're having in your head or not?"

I turned to face him, voice razor-edged with sarcasm, "Okay. Here it is. My mate. Wanna guess who she might be?"

Intelligent eyes narrowed as he studied me.

He may have willingly stepped down from his Alpha position, but his intense gaze was still a bit unnerving, particularly when he knew and understood everything about me. I shifted my stance.

After a moment, he said slowly, "So, you've finally found your mate. Why so distressed?"

I grunted a humorless laugh. "Distressed is a teensy bit of an understatement. Livid might be a more accurate portrayal of the chaos in my head right now. Because the young lady in question is none other than the daughter of the late, great Alpha of the Diamonte Pack!"

That caught his attention.

He sat forward, dark brown eyes boring into mine. His anger and fury glimmered on the surface, a result of our longtime feud with the Diamonte Pack. He'd fought against them many years before I had.

A slow, tense moment when by, as if he was waiting for me to admit it was all a sick joke. I wish. When that didn't happen, he sat back and he exhaled heavily, "Shit."

"Indeed," I snapped.

He was too angry to be concerned with my sarcasm now.

He ground his teeth together. "Leander, you have to reject her. Send her away, or imprisoned her if you can't kill her. But she cannot be your mate."

I spoke softly, the burden of the situation wearing hard on my shoulders, "You know I can't do that. It isn't just my future at stake here. You know the potential for the pups that could be conceived through the power of our Claiming Ceremony. Not just mine, but mated pairs who might otherwise never have an opportunity."

He shook his head, lip twisted in a snarl. He hated the idea as much as I did, but he remained silent. He knew I spoke the truth.

This opportunity was rare. It came around once every generation. And only when the Alpha successfully claimed his rightful Luna- no other Wolf would do.

It was the one, and only, time the mated pairs of the pack could conceive without their females being in heat-pure magic for those wolves who were unable to achieve heat or had tried multiple times without success.

And the pups conceived during the Claiming Ceremony were different. They were more powerful, had more strength. Some even had unique gifts. All pups were cherished, but these pups were coveted. Even just a handful of them could change the future of the pack.

The process was physical and raw and messy but a responsibility I took seriously.

As soon as I marked my female, the clock started ticking. She would go into heat exactly four weeks later. When her heat began, we would be sequestered and alone in a small cottage. There was no need to reinforce it to keep out any unmated males because the entire pack of mated pairs would gather around the exterior, protecting and waiting.

Listening. And when they heard their Luna's first cries of orgasm, their celebration would begin.

Inside the cabin, my Luna and I would engage in a three-day f**k-fest. Not only would I come inside of her to create our pup, but we would work to ensure that our combined essences, hers and mine together, were spread over our skin. Arms, legs, torso, everywhere we could.