The Alpha's Mate (Werewolf Romance) (2 page)

BOOK: The Alpha's Mate (Werewolf Romance)
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Today, however, I couldn’t stay out of the public eye. There was a package waiting for me at the post office and wanted to pick it up before I ran down to Nashville. Jackson was gone when I woke up, already over at Cal’s house on pack business. Something about renegotiating mineral rights with the mining company that leased some of the pack’s land.

Being
a generally thoughtful guy, he made enough coffee for both of us before he left. I sipped it as I drove toward town, enjoying the hazelnut flavor.

I
parked my Toyota pick-up--so ancient the cherry red had long ago faded to pink--as near to the post office as I could and checked my cell phone for the time. My truck’s clock stopped working sometime in the 1990s, back when my Dad was still alive.

It was Saturday, the busiest day of the
week for our small town square. I’d hoped to avoid notice by being there when the post office opened at seven. The original idea had been to get in and get out before anyone saw me. Unfortunately, my cell phone showed the time as five after eleven. Jackson kept me up so late, I’d sank back into sleep instead of getting up when the alarm went off. Naturally, that meant post office was packed. So much for my plan to stay on the down low.

Squaring my shoulders, I stepped out of my truck and
, after a brief moment of hesitation, opened the squeaky door to the post office. Bells clinked against the glass door announcing my arrival to everyone inside. I tried not to cringe at the sound. Blinking against the dim light, I took my place in line, acting like it was no big deal when, in reality, I hadn’t been around so many people in weeks.

One or two folks
nodded at me in polite acknowledgement and I nodded back, noting the ones who turned up their noses, pretending I was invisible. As usual, it was the younger wolves who seemed to be the most offended by my existence. The older ones were more accepting of my sudden transformation and elevation in the pack’s hierarchy.

The varied sc
ents of everyone waiting with me hit my nose, all carrying the distinctive tang of a werewolf. Only wolves lived in Huntsville and we didn’t need much in terms of human comforts. We had a bar, a grocery store, a bakery, a school, a gas station and a post office. An old brick Victorian mansion served as City Hall, housing what little government we needed to get by in a largely human world. The expansive house had been built by Heinrich Schmidt, a German wolf fleeing World War I. He brought his pack here and we’d prospered ever since.

I often wondered what he would think about me. Not every pack drove out its nulls, but Heinrich had apparently been influenced
by Nazi racial purity doctrine: If you couldn’t shift, you had to go. Thankfully, future generations were a little more lenient. Cal, our current pack alpha, had let me stay as long as he could. If not for his leniency, I would’ve been long gone before Jackson ever came to town.

We kept Huntsville tiny
on purpose. Humans weren’t welcome and we stayed off their radar by looking too small to bother with. Anything that couldn’t be found in town, we ordered online. Or, if absolutely necessary, we could drive the thirty minutes into Hudson which boasted a small mall. Nashville was just a couple hours away as well and we sometimes shopped there.

I shifted my weight from foot to foot as I waited in line and watched
Jana Schwartz, the post mistress, beckoned people forward. Fine lines criss-crossed her weathered face and she had a stout, grandmotherly figure. I didn’t know her well, but appreciated her prompt efficiency in dispatching customers at a rapid pace. Jana wasn’t wasting any time and it seemed she didn’t like having a line as much as no one wanted to be in one.

Behind me
, I heard the squeak of rusty hinges and the jangle of bells as the door opened, ushering in multiple footsteps. I turned to see Vicki Richter along with her usual entourage of cronies join the line. The tall brunette and I weren’t friends, but we’d never been enemies either. When my wolf came, though, I somehow became her mortal enemy overnight.

Of all the women Jackson
slept with, she’d taken their fling the most seriously. She’d been harassing me every chance she got and I doubted today would be any different.

W
ithin seconds, the whispering started, quickly filling the cramped quarters of the post office. The building dated back to the thirties and felt tight with three people. At the moment, almost a dozen of us were squeezed inside, the gossip filling what little space there was between us. It was impossible not to overhear.

I kept my eyes forward,
but I knew the voices badmouthing me well. My heart pounded in my chest as I realized I was trapped.

“She was a null,
” said Alan, a gangly beta wolf with an overbite. He’d been mooning after Vicki for years. Did he not realize he was the means to an end named Jackson? Vicki would never take up with him, not in a million years.

“Somehow he got her to change,”
Tony said, the low bass tenor of his voice was unmistakable. I didn’t know him well, but he liked to wear leather with metal spikes and hang around Vicki, which pretty much told me everything I needed to know.

“She looks like a null. Are you sure she’s shifted?” came a high, sweet voice I didn’t recognize. I peeked over my shoulder to see a young girl--no doubt
, newly changed--standing with them, her narrow face full of disgust. Great, Vicki was spreading her hate of me, infecting everyone she could find. Including small children who’d barely sprouted their first fur.

“And now she’s mated to Jackson, can you believe it?
” This was Vicki, her disapproval emanating from her in waves of sour scent. She smelled like bad meat, like something you would never put in your mouth. It was hard to believe she was a gorgeous dark haired blue-eyed beauty. Maybe if Jackson had let his nose lead, he would’ve steered clear of her in the first place. As my mom always used to say, ‘you’re only as pretty as you smell.’

“She don’t look like much.”
John’s voice carried so much disgust, I winced.

The scent of werewolf now mixed with a foulness that accompanied negative emotions. Anger surged through me, thundering in my ears like a war drum. I whirled around and met Vicki’s
stormy blue eyes, staring her down. When she boldly held my gaze, refusing to look away, my wolf’s power bristled over my skin. She remained unimpressed and looked just as pissed as I was. Her lips curled, baring her very sharp canines outlined with red lipstick.

“You have a problem with me?” My voice came out in a snarl as it entered the vocal range of a wolf.

She crossed her arms and tossed her head, flinging her dark hair out of her face. “Well,
duh.”

I stepped closer to her until we almost touched. “Watch yourself.”
My tolerance snapped and my temper flared hotter than lighter fluid on coals. I was so done with Vicki and her digs. It was time to lay down the law.

“Or what?” She lifted her chin in a haughty gesture.

Without thinking, I wrapped a hand around her neck. We were about the same size and my hand shouldn’t have been able to span her throat, but it did. With shock, I realized my bones had lengthened, until my hand was big enough. I wasn’t shifting; my wolf form matched my human size, putting me more on the petite end of the spectrum. This was something else, something new. Jackson told me I would come into my full wolf powers gradually and here was proof.

I
surprised Vicki too. She tried not to show it, but her pupils dilated. Her scent changed subtly as well, emitting the tart scent of fear. I squeezed and the fear stink grew strong as a skunk. Alan, Tony and John covered their noses and backed away, refusing to meet my eyes or Vicki’s.

Someone behind me said, “Is she going to kill her?”

The question brought me back to my senses. At least a little. Enough that I peeled my hand away from her throat and let her go.

“No, I’m not going to kill her,” I said more to reassure myself than anyone else. Rage still ran hot in me and screamed for an outlet, preferably one that included ramming Vicki’s head into the nearest wall.

Vicki coughed and rubbed her throat. “She couldn’t kill me even if she wanted to.”

Vicki’s persistence made me blink. I’d almost popped her head like a pimple and yet she co
ntinued to provoke me. Amazing.


Don’t make me regret letting you go,” I said with dangerous calm. My wolf growled in my mind’s eye and pawed at the ground, desperate to leap out and finish what I’d almost started. It took everything I had to maintain control.

“You’re weak, bitch. Too weak to be an alpha’s mate. Right?” She looked to the guys who nodded, tentative at first, but then with increasing confidence.

“Yeah. She’s an Omega,” Alan said. “She shouldn’t be mated with Jackson.”

The word Omega gave me pause. They were weak wolves and most packs refused to let them mate, not wanting their weakness to taint pack bloodlines. Back when everyone thought I was a null, I’d been something lower than even an Omega. It was the equivalent of being born blind, deaf and dumb in the human world. At least Omega wolves could still change, even if they were scrawny and sickly.
Sometimes packs killed them outright, preferring to exterminate weak genetics altogether. It wouldn’t surprise me if Vicki’s sentiments on the issue ran toward the more extreme end of the spectrum.

“Vicki?” I said.

“Yeah,” she looked at me, her confidence back at full throttle. All of her earlier fear had vanished, and, in its place, I smelled a cloying self-satisfaction.

“I’m not an Omega.” I advanced on her
again, forcing her to step back and give ground to my dominance.

“Yeah, you are.” She looked up and down, her upper lip curled in disgust. “You’ve always been nothing
, Chloe. Just because you can shift now doesn’t change that and I’m not the only one who’s noticed.”

I wanted to roll my eyes, but kept them narrowed on Vicki.
“Don’t you get it?” I shook my head, deciding to speak plainly. No doubt the unvarnished truth would hurt, but maybe it would get her to move on. “Jackson couldn’t choose you even if he wanted to. You’re not his mate, Vicki. Not now, not ever. I’m not your competition because there isn’t one. You were a mistake, one that Jackson won’t repeat.”

She lunged for me, hands flailing and nails morphing into claws as she did so. I stepped to the side and then caught her by the throat again. The speed with which I moved startled
me. I was getting faster. I lifted her up by the throat, unsure if I could do it until I actually did it.

I smiled in triumph. I was
stronger, too. Giving her a little shake, I said. “Let it go, Vicki. Move on before you really get hurt. Live to find your true mate.” I dropped her then and she fell to the floor with a growl.

Jumping
to her feet with a light footed grace, she said, “I’m not letting this go, bitch. You’re an Omega. You don’t even deserve to live.” Vicki stabbed the air with a sharp nailed finger.

I sighed. “Mark my words, n
ext time I get a hand around your neck, I won’t stop squeezing.” If she ignored that warning, I wouldn’t hold back next time. She’d been following me around since I’d mated with Jackson, calling me names and generally being nasty. I was done with it. If she wanted to escalate things, I wouldn’t turn her away. Not anymore.

She gave a harsh laugh. “Next time I see you, bitch, you’ll be in the pack clearing failing the test of blood.
We’ll tear you limb from limb and howl with glee as we do it.”

Tossing her head
, she turned on her heel and left the post office, her groupies trailing behind like eager puppies. A tense silence hung in the air at their departure. No one looked at anyone, which was how wolves avoided conflict. We all cast our gazes upward as if the ceiling held a mural painted by Michelangelo as opposed to its more mundane flat white paint turned gray with age. At the same time, you could bet everyone’s ears were perked, waiting to hear my reaction.

Behind the counter, Jan
a heaved a sigh and said, “Next, please.”

With that
, an uneasy normalcy resumed in the post office. We shuffled forward in line, picking up and dropping off packages. Jana beckoned me forward with a kind smile when my turn came.

I han
ded her the card the mailman had left in our mailbox. “I have a package.”

She nodded. “Yes, all the way from Ireland too.”

Jana bent over, rummaging around under the counter and when she straightened back up, she held a small box in her hand. White and red ‘fragile’ stickers adorned its side.

“Sign here.” She
set the box aside and pointed to a signature line on the package notification.

I
grabbed the pen chained to the counter and quickly scrawled my signature.

Looking at the card
, she said, “That was good, Chloe.”

“It was
?” I asked confused. In school, my teachers had always taken off points for penmanship. I didn’t think my signature was good enough to warrant compliments.

“I meant with Vicki. The alpha’s mate has to be strong. Don’t let bullies like her push you around. If she’s dumb enough to call the test of blood, she’ll be the one torn apart, not you.”

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