Alpha Mates (Mated #1)

Chapter 1

Julian

I had dreams before my world fell apart.

When I was five, and my life was still my own, I decided I would be an astronomer. Other kids my age changed their answers every five minutes—one moment they wanted to be pack warriors; the next, elders or healers.

I didn’t want any of that. Never did. I only wanted to study the universe.

Before I learnt to hunt, I’d memorised all twelve constellations within our solar system, the names of our surrounding planets, their climates, suspected ages, and their respective distances from Earth.

Nothing interested me more than space. Nothing.

When I learnt that there were even more distant universes and faraway realms out there, well … astronomer it was, no question about it. But that was before Oliver died, and I had to fill a role I had never wanted. Before I had to pack my dreams away, along with my favourite telescope.

I was never supposed to be an alpha, and yet …

“Your coronation is in two days. Are you excited?”

I glance up from my nearly finished burrito, surprised by my mother’s question. Breakfast was usually a quiet affair between us, since conversations in this house only sprouted when my father was around.

“I am.” I’m not, but the lie is safer.

“Julian,” she chides, glancing between me and my plate with poorly hidden discomfort. I can’t tell if she is reproaching the blatant dishonesty, or my breakfast.

As a vegetarian werewolf, I’m more than used to that expression.

Odd, I know. But I’ve never enjoyed the feral act of tearing apart woodland creatures like the rest of my pack—or like any other werewolf for that matter. It’s messy, unnecessary, and disturbing, and after seeing it a few hundred times, even cooked meat makes my stomach turn.

“I would be …” I mumble, lifting my glass to my lips, “if I wasn’t sharing it with that imbecile.”

That’s only half a lie.

My mother releases an exasperated sigh. “You need to end this petty feud with Aiden.”

Here we go.

“It’s not a petty feud. He tormented me for years—he cut off my hair!”

I know I sound like a whiny pup, but long hair has been a symbol of patience and strength in my pack for generations, and I’d grown my hair past my shoulders before that fiend stripped it from me.

“It grew back,” she says, her excuse feeble as always. Never mind that she’s championed the tradition most in our pack. “It may have taken a while, but it did grow back, and don’t you dare pull the torment card. I know what you did to him when you were fourteen.”

“I still want to see his head on a pike,” I growl.

My wolf, Alexander, grunts his agreement.

“Julian,” she says, stepping closer, “you are my only… my only son.” The way her voice breaks makes me look at her, but she swallows and barrels on. “And soon you’ll be the alpha of our pack.”

Her voice softens. “You deserve it in more ways than one, and I know you will be great with that brain of yours.”

I laugh softly, not trusting the kindness. “Let yourself have it. Let the pack have it. Don’t let your hatred for that boy be the thing that undoes you.”

She looks at me properly, emotion rampant in her ice-blue eyes—mirrors of my own.

They’re almost translucent, like crystals held up to the sky.

But hers aren’t as sharp; there’s a softness to them, a luna’s countenance perhaps.

I want to trust in it, but I know that could be smothered at any moment.

For now, it remains. Kind and understanding. Polished and strategic. Almost convincing.

Resting a hand on my shoulder, she offers me a smile. “You know how badly your father wants to see you become alpha beside Aiden. He’s Samson’s son, so endure it, please.”

There it is.

Why had I even bothered?

“I’ll try,” I mutter as I slip out of my chair. “I’ll see you at the Hall this evening.”

Appetite gone, I grab my bag and keys and head out the door before she can say anything else. I’m sure this isn’t the end of my lecture, but for now, I pretend that it is.

The moment I step outside, I take a deep, greedy breath of the fresh morning air that always calms me.

I inhale the scent of my pack and our lands until my shoulders drop.

The familiar desperation to stretch my legs and run surges through me, but I don’t have time.

If I linger in our packlands, my mother will conjure something for me to do before the coronation, and I much prefer a stress-free day.

So instead of heading for the woods, I make my way to my car.

On the road and heading towards the gates, I try to calm myself and Alex for what’s to come. I’ve been taking this route for two years, but even now, heading beyond the packlands’ safe borders makes Alex restless.

Before the age of sixteen, I’d only left the pack a handful of times.

There was no real need to, not when we had everything within our borders.

Like the rest of our kind—and most supernatural species—we were self-sufficient, with little reason to mingle with outsiders.

But the world kept growing smaller, and staying secluded was getting more difficult.

To become the next alpha, learning to adapt to the outside world became a prerequisite—something my father insisted was essential if I was going to protect the pack.

I’m sure the ancient pillars, imbued with elven magic, will do that just fine.

They’ve done so for centuries, keeping all who weren't pack out. But I can’t defy my alpha, especially when that alpha is also my father.

I loathed it at first. Attending a human school felt like torture, but at some point, it became one of my few pleasures.

The humans may be simple, and only harbour crumbs of knowledge about the supernatural world, but that vacuum forced them to look outward.

To discover and invent—driven to fill in the gaps.

Their knowledge became vast and ever-expanding, even if they remained unaware of how their ancestors’ minds and archives had been scrubbed clean of the supernatural.

I’ve always liked to learn, so it was no surprise that I became so thoroughly enamoured with their curriculum.

But in an ironic twist of fate, my parents are now the ones trying to keep me from going because I have officially ‘learnt enough.’ Maybe by their standards I have, but I intend to finish my education, even if it comes from the humans.

Still, leaving the pack and crossing those borders means passing through magic, and no wolf likes magic of any kind.

I steel myself with a deep breath as I approach the invisible line between my world and everything outside it. The buzz of elven magic ripples through me, turning my stomach as it snakes around my bones.

I’m never getting used to that, Alex mutters with another displeased growl.

I hum my agreement as I try to shake it off. The magic’s touch fades as I continue along the lone dirt road that weaves through the unpopulated woodlands. It widens, merges into the paved roads, and finally spills into lanes filled with cars and humans.

I slip in among them.

In the muted silence, my mind drifts to the one thing I can think about these days—the coronation, and more specifically, the million and one ways it could end disastrously.

If it were only my coronation, my worries would be mundane, but unfortunately, I won’t be on that stage alone.

There’s only one person on this planet I hate. Only one. And that is the incompetent mutt known as Aiden Calderon.

Aiden Calderon is a walking disaster who will more than likely start the next Great War. I’ve never met another being so incapable of logical thought and doubt I ever will. He’s a scourge on this planet who never thinks before he acts, repercussions be damned.

If he felt like chasing harmless straggling rogues, he did. If someone looked at him in a way he didn’t like, he would kill them if the mood struck. And if he felt like streaking through the human town butt naked in the middle of the night? He would do that too.

Admitting that I’ve known him since birth is an embarrassment I’m forced to carry. Our parents are to blame for that—specifically mine, since they’d been the ones to ensure that we were born on the same day.

Our fathers are self-proclaimed best friends, but that’s just a label they slap onto their thinly concealed rivalry. They coexist because of how close our packlands are and try their best to maintain the peace.

My father’s attempt at preserving it for the next generation was to time the birth of his second child with the neighbouring alpha’s first. Aiden would have a best friend, and he would have a spare. It was a win-win.

As we grew, they put us together constantly, thinking we would bond.

But Aiden and I could never coexist.

For the first eight years of my life, Aiden made it a living hell. His never-ending devilish pranks turned me into a timid pushover, and that’s likely how I would’ve remained if he hadn’t cut off my hair.

I barely remember that day, only that I saw my hair on the ground—and then Aiden, bloody and unmoving. That was the day the tables finally turned.

I had my fun making up for lost time—and oh, I’d used those eight years well. But that had come to an end when we turned sixteen and our physiques finally levelled out.

Now, two years later, we live in a mock state of peace that results in only slightly fewer acts of violence.

I know my parents hate seeing us like this—it threatens the alliance they are so proud of—but I can’t help it. He brings out a rage in me that no one else can. So perhaps they should’ve anticipated my reaction when they announced a joint coronation.

Maybe Goddess will be kind? Alex tries hopefully. Maybe she’ll call him to the plains early?

I laugh. Let’s hope.

I park in the school’s back lot and steal a few minutes to settle my thoughts—and rid them of that dimwit. The last thing I need is for some curious human to catch the anger flickering in my eyes.