The Alpha’s Secret Luna

**** Alpha Enzi Armett **** Stifling a groan, I toss my duffel bag in the car before turning back to hug my mom, thinking not the dreaded mate lecture again… “You are 21, honey, almost 22! You have to start looking for your Luna. The pack members are starting to wonder about it,” she says for the umpteenth time this week. I shove another groan deep down before it can escape. That would just result in an extended lecture and that disappointed look of hers that I hate. Frankly, I’m pretty sure the pack members couldn’t give a s**t if I have a Luna or not right now. We are a successful, safe, stable werewolf pack, and I’m sure that’s enough for everyone. For perspective, werewolves are gifted fated mates by the Moon Goddess and, as such, move much faster in love than humans because it’s easy if you know that you’ve met the one person you’re destined to be with. And as far as my mom is concerned, I’m behind. This is especially funny since werewolves tend to age much slower than humans and thus live much longer. That said, I have plenty of time. I just don’t get the rush to find one’s mate thing. That’s one of the reasons I’m not excited about the ball, but I am still a mama’s boy at heart, so if she insists I go to this stupid ball, then go to the stupid ball I shall. What sucks, though, is it’s not just one evening kind of thing but a whole weekend of crowd activities. I really don’t want to be around such a large group the whole weekend, but my mom is right, and our pack members deserve a chance to see if their mates are from another pack. So I need to do some recon. I had planned on bringing a large group this year, but I had a weird dream where a woman told me I had to go to the ball, and I had to go with just my Beta. Naturally, I dismissed the dream as a total codswallop, but once I made the mistake of telling my mother about it, she insisted I follow the directions. She decided that the woman was the Moon Goddess trying to lead me to my mate, and there was no negotiating with my mother after that. “I love you, mom. I’ll be back in a few days,” I say, pecking her cheek. This is likely a waste of time for me, but I agree to check it out. I’m glad my brother is still away at school or my mother might have subjected him to this trip too. He’s also said many times he has no interest in settling down with a mate yet. I can’t blame him, he’s only just turned 19 and mom’s already hounding him about marriage and grandbabies. Who wants kids at 19? “With your mate, hopefully,” she teases. I resist the urge to roll my eyes like an annoyed teen. There’s always the chance my mate is not even at this thing, fingers crossed, she might not even be of age yet. Typically, you have to be 18 to sense your mate. Alphas, however, are stronger than regular wolves and can often sense their mates earlier, even if the full bond hasn’t snapped in. By all accounts, once you meet your mate your wolf spirit drives you crazy until you are with that person, so the last thing I need is an underage Luna that I have to wait for. No, thank you, I’ll skip that torture. I have better things to do and enough stress already with managing one of the largest packs in the kingdom, thank you very much. It’s not that I don’t want to find my mate, I do, one day. It’s just that building and strengthening my pack is my priority right now. They say your mate is your other half and without that, your soul is incomplete. The older you get without finding your mate, the more your body and soul will feel strained, or so I’m told, almost like it’s stretched out, trying to reach for the mate it seeks. Everyone wants to feel whole and completely loved, myself included. One day…. “Ready?” I call for Jayvon, my Beta. We haven’t even gotten in the car yet, and I’m already anxious to get this trip over with. Alphas are typically under a lot of stress and are more high-strung than unranked wolves, so the need for the calm and balance that a mate brings you is even more necessary; that’s what everyone says, anyway. And by everyone, I mean my mother, on repeat. No one else would dare harass me to such an extent. Except maybe Jayvon. “Always,” he replies. I give a last smile and wave to my mom, and we’re off. I almost wish I had gone last year, or the year before. Alpha Noah and Luna Mara are, or were I should say, legendary. I would have loved to have met them. When they died last year, Alpha Simon, Noah’s younger brother, took control of the pack. I’ve heard conflicting rumors about what happened to Alpha Noah and Luna Mara. Hopefully, we can find out more about that while we’re there. We’ve also heard rumors about their daughter Alyssa. Most Alphas are over 20 when they take leadership of their packs. I was 17; the same age as Alyssa is now, I’m told. In my case, it was a different situation, though. ————— Six hours later, Jayvon and I pull up to the Silver Springs Pack border. As soon as we cross into their territory, I spot wolves tracking our progress. When we pull up to a checkpoint, we check-in and are directed to the pack house. Most people visiting this thing have large contingents with them and are set up in nearby hotels or the pack guest houses. Since it’s just Jayvon and me, we were offered a room within the pack house. I’ll admit that at first I was surprised. I have a reputation, not all of it is based on truth, most of it is actually based on my father’s brutality. I don’t correct people, though. I figure if someone is scared of you they’re more likely to leave you alone. That’s the only tiny worthwhile piece of my father’s legacy, and if I can use his shitty rep to help protect my people, I will. Being in the pack house is a great opportunity to observe other Alphas. My father was a s**t example, and I have tried to model myself on better Alphas, like the late Alpha Noah. The forest thins down and eventually opens to a neat town. We follow the road and finally approach what is obviously the pack house, despite looking like a fancy ski lodge resort. We’re greeted with respect as soon as we park and are led into the large open foyer of the house. The large A-frame entry has countless soaring windows and features a large stone fireplace re-emphasizing my visions of a ski lodge. I bet this would be the perfect hang-out spot in winter. “Alpha Enzi, we are glad you could make it.” I turn and see a tall white man striding towards me with sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes. I know from his picture, this is Alpha Simon Johnson. “Thank you. Alpha Simon, I presume?” “Yes, just Simon, of course.” Simon shakes my hand and I give him my trademark look of indifference. It seems to shake him a bit. Good. Simon, I hear, is 30. He’s older than me but was never raised to be the Alpha. He’s the spoiled playboy, second son, scrambling to fill a role he wasn’t supposed to have. Like Henry VIII and Charles I. And we all know what a s**t-shows they turned out to be. Despite that, I see something in his eyes that tells me there is more to him than I first thought. Interesting. I love figuring out what makes people tick. After some forc.ed small talk, he has an Omega show us to our rooms. Walking down the hall of the Alpha floor, I briefly catch a delightful scent that stirs my wolf within. It’s too faint to be my mate, thank Goddess — and sorry mom. Still, it’s enticing, like champagne and cherry blossoms in spring. I can feel that my wolf wanted to investigate but I dismissed him. It’s better for Jayvon and me to avoid unwanted attention, chasing some skirt who’s not even my mate would stir up trouble I’d rather avoid when there’s only two of us here. We need to stay vigilant. When we reach our room, the Omega points out a packet of printed information and leaves us be. It’s like one of those damn hotel guides you find in your room with the tv channel guide, things to do nearby, etc. There’s even a printed itinerary. Oh, joy. We have three hours before we have to go to the first event: the dreaded meet and greet. “Want to go for a run?” I ask Jayvon. “After being cooped up in a car with you all day, you don’t have to twist my arm,” he replies. A lot of curious looks are cast our way as we head back through the crowded pack house and out toward the forest. “So, I noticed you’re already drawing the eyes of a lot of lovely potential Lunas,” he says. I smack him in the arm on instinct. “Not you too,” I whine. “You know I just want you to be happy, man,” he says when he finally stops limping for a moment, despite the fact that it was his arm I whacked, and I smile at his antics. Thankfully, he drops the subject. Soon, we have our clothes stashed and shifted into our wolf forms. Jayvon is a large, mostly black wolf with adorable white socks, a feature I rip him about constantly. I’m mostly a dark red russet color, like my father. They called him The Blood Alpha, partly due to this coloring but mostly due to his well-earned violent reputation. I wish I looked more like my mother, a classic gray and white wolf. Bounding through the trees the pent-up tension leaves my body. It’s not long before Jayvon and I are chasing and pouncing on each other like we did when we were kids. It’s nice to let loose once in a while. Two hours pass quickly and we need to rush back to our room to get ready. Once again, as we head down the halls of the Alpha floor, I catch the amazing scent of champagne and cherry blossoms, only this time it’s much stronger, fresher, and damn near irresistible. Frack, it’s definitely my mate. It has to be. ~♥~♥~♥~ I dawdle getting ready until Jayvon finally confronts me. “Why are you dragging your feet? Usually, you feel better after a run, but you seem… agitated.” I appreciate the fact that my best friend and Beta can read me so well. “I… I think… I.. scented my mate.” For a moment Jayvon freezes, then his face cracks into a wide grin. “That’s great!” “Yeah?” I ask because I’m not really sure how I feel about it since I truly wasn’t expecting to find my mate yet. Usually mates are treasures, but I know from experience that’s not always the case. My mother was my father’s fated mate and he still treated her like crap. “What’s wrong?” asks Jayvon. “What if it’s in my DNA, you know, like my coat color or my eye color?” I ask. “You’ll have to be more specific,” Jayvon says. “What if she brings out the worst in me, and I become like my dad? I don’t want to do what he did to someone I should love and protect.” By now I’m pacing, probably wearing a track on their plush carpet. “That’s why you’ve been worried about meeting your mate? Enzi, you are not your father. He was an asshole. You are not. Sure, you have half his DNA and you look like him, but you are definitely not him. You care about people. Quit worrying.” It’s stupid but I do feel better. Maybe having a mate will work out for me.