The Alpha Wolf’s Forced Bride (Rosette Valley Wolves #3)
Chapter 1 - Dorian
Six Months Ago
I tug on my hoodie strings and tighten the cap to hide my face as I keep my head down on my way through the market. There’s an eerie chill that runs down my spine, and I keep my gaze lowered because truthfully, I don’t want to be seen..
I know it shouldn’t be this way, despondency coiling in the pit of my belly. But having to face the Nightclaw Pack members with a distorted resolve while I’m meant to be their Alpha wasn’t what I’d been looking forward to. I know it’s all in my head, and that I’m seeing through the lens of illusion created from the hostility I feel whenever I’m at a Council meeting. What I perceive as the pack members’ hostility is only a product of my overactive imagination.
I am a true-blooded Alpha, after all. It’s something I need to constantly remind myself of.
It’s just that Nightclaw isn’t the pack owed to me as a birthright, and sometimes that has me feeling unworthy of being their Alpha.
I brush aside my personal feelings when I reach the market’s west end to find my Beta, Connor, pacing the grounds while rubbing his chin as if he’s in deep thought.
“Connor!” I call out, a faint wistful smile on my face as I approach the pack’s second-in-command. He looks up and returns the smile, bringing with it a sense of belonging that I haven’t been able to find amongst the rest of the pack.
At least the Beta was grateful that I would take over the leadership of the Nightclaw Pack of Fort Smit. The younger man wasn’t interested in taking over for my uncle, Elias Walker, who refused to take a mate and lived out his life as a lone wolf. If I hadn’t left the pack I was born into—The Valley Walker Pack of Cedar Valley—I wouldn’t have been in the position to take over for my uncle. Without a son as an heir, not only did Uncle Elias give me refuge in Fort Smit, but he’d passed the leadership torch down to me.
For months now, I’ve been on the precipice of giving up my position only because I feel undeserving. Seeing my younger brother, Damian, again, has led me to feel like a fraud.
With a tentative glance over my shoulder, I soak in the hostility that lingers in the air as a product of how conflicted I’ve been feeling lately. I guess it’s just my imagination that has me cowering into myself like an outcast amongst the Nightclaw Pack. Still, I have to tread carefully, not wanting to make any mistakes that would prove my inhibitions right.
“I thought I’d find you here, Alpha,” Connor says with relief as he pats my shoulder and joins me on a stroll down the stone path that leads to the main house.
His use of the rank is bittersweet in this moment of my vulnerability. I’m not just his Alpha, but I’d like to be considered a friend. He seems to catch the sullen look in my eyes when we exchange glances and throws me a reassuring smile.
“Sorry…” he winces. “I know there’s no need to address you formally. I take it that the meeting didn’t go well.”
Gnawing on the dry, chapped skin on my bottom lip, I grunt under my breath as I shove my hands into my pockets. “Yeah. Damian still refuses to speak to me.”
Connor sighs as we approach the Dutch-style porch with its white epoxy floor paint shimmering reflectively. In the haze of the polished floor, the bags underneath my eyes are visible, reminding me that these past few months have been gruesome.
Ever since we’d been attacked by a group of rogues that posed a threat to all the neighboring packs in the Oklahoma State, we’d been forced to form alliances with werewolf packs who were once considered enemies. The real blow to my ego came in the form of my brother, Damian, who was forced to take over the Valley Walker Pack as their Alpha. He refuses to look my way, even when we’re seated in a gathering of the other four Alphas that form the Werewolf Council of Oklahoma Packs.
Perhaps his denial of my existence has bled onto me, severing my courage and leaving me defeated. It’s thanks to my Beta that I feel somewhat undaunted when he stops outside the main house and turns to me with a thoughtful smile.
“Don’t lose hope, Dorian,” he encourages. “Sometimes, those closest to us only reject us ‘cause they’re struggling with their own issues. You know what happened to Ingrid and I in the past.”
Nodding slowly, I do my best to view Connor’s reminder as food for thought. Back when he proposed marriage to the she-wolf he wanted to take as his mate, she publicly rejected him in front of the pack. It took years for her to surrender to her feelings, finally giving in at the Solstice celebration last year. He’d exercised patience—the kind of patience I’ve been grappling with for almost a decade since leaving the Valley Walker Pack.
Not everyone is bound to be as lucky as Connor was. Damian will never forgive me for leaving our pack. It’s a fact that I need to accept.
That’s the part I’m struggling with. Being on the Werewolf Council alongside my younger brother hasn’t been easy. The rancor and animosity from the other Alphas, I can deal with. But when it comes from one’s own blood, it’s a tough pill to swallow.
“How is she doing, by the way?” I ask, redirecting the conversation because I’m exhausted with myself and my dwindling self-esteem. Hanging by a thread thanks to the hostility I have to keep facing during every one of those council meetings, I can’t say I blame any of them.
After all, I was the one who was with Finch Lycoan the day he died. He was supposed to be the Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack of Zafra until we were attacked by a group of rogue werewolves almost a decade ago. He’d been the first werewolf in the region who thought it would be a good idea to put aside the indifferences of the packs and become friends.
Back when I was fresh on my wolf feet, I shared his sentiments and wanted to form an alliance with the others. That’s when Finch and I threw a party in Cedar Valley for the other Alphas to attend. I’d offered to take him home, having grown close to him in our short time together. I’ll never forget that fateful night when rogues cornered us at the top of the mountain and Finch begged me to save myself. The distraction I caused led some of the rogues away, but not before they fatally injured Finch and threw his dying body off the cliff.
Finch’s brother, Flynn, who now leads the Blood Moon Pack, watches me with a suspicious glint in his dark eyes. Everyone does, but they’re forced to have me seated at their Council table because the rogues have resurfaced, this time stronger than the ones Finch and I encountered. His brother’s resentment is understandable since he believes that I was behind Finch’s death.
My brother, on the other hand, remains just as suspicious, with a good helping of the resentment he has toward me for leaving Valley Walker before he received his wolf and the ability to shift on his eighteenth birthday. I see it in his eyes when I catch his glances—how torn he must have been when I wasn’t there to train him, or when he had to step into the shoes I’d left behind. He hasn’t forgiven me, and he won’t give me the chance to apologize.
“You’re changing the subject…” Connor observes with a raised brow.
“I am,” I sniff. “But your mate is pregnant, and as the Alpha of this pack—”
“You’re doing your duty by asking, right?” Connor interjects with a scoff.
“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” I grin.
“Well, if it’s your duties you’re concerned about, then you have nothing to worry about. The pack respects you for keeping them safe when we were attacked, Dorian. You’ve gotta stop hiding as if you’re not our Alpha.”
“I’m not hiding!” I bellow defensively. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Connor narrows his eyes at me, unconvinced. “Since the attack, you haven’t addressed the pack, Dorian. They may not be fighters, but they’re willing to follow their leader. So am I.”
I finally look up with hope stirring in my chest. “You are?” I frown. “I’m not the best example to follow. I abandoned my own pack,” I reminded him.
Connor rolls his eyes. “Come on, dude! You’ve been loyal to Nightclaw ever since you arrived.”
“I wasn’t very loyal to Valley Walker,” I contest.
“So?” Connor raises both brows expectantly. “You’ve proven yourself as the Alpha of Nightclaw for three years now, Dorian. Besides, we all saw how valiantly you fought to protect the pack when the rogues attacked. Why would you think we wouldn’t trust you?”
I shrug nonchalantly. “I—I don’t know…” Truthfully, I know where my concerns stem from. After all, who would want an Alpha who walks away from the pack he’s born to lead because of personal feelings of unworthiness? Damian makes it abundantly clear how he feels about my departure.
It’s about time I faced the truth that I shouldn’t be the Alpha of my uncle’s pack. If I could just disappear, it would be better for everyone involved.
“It sounds like you don’t trust yourself. It’s unfortunate…” he clicks his tongue and shakes his head regretfully. “Rumor has it that the Nightclaw wolves wanna learn how to fight.”
“They do?” I quiz with a deep frown. Unlike Valley Walker, who pride themselves on their combat skills both in wolf form and human form, Nightclaw is considerably more peaceful, the quaint farm town of Fort Smit runs independently and self-sufficient. The werewolves of Nightclaw spend their time harvesting crops instead of training, and trading amongst themselves without the need to mingle with the outside world—the human world.
Perhaps that’s the reason I always felt out of place. I grew up amongst warriors and trained to be one myself. When I arrived in Fort Smit, the refuge I found was also a sense of calm, away from the gruesome training I’d endured when I received my wolf. Away from the heavy burden of following my father’s footsteps to take over the company my grandfather built from the ground up.
The shame that shrouded me when Finch died led me to a more secluded life, but I always did feel like something was missing. Not just leaving behind the work I would have done as the CEO of a large property enterprise, but leaving behind the role I would have filled as the Alpha of the Valley Walker Pack has created a void in me that has left me incomplete.
Connor finally nods when he’s done gauging my surprised reaction as if he can read my mind while I’m not exercising the mind link we share. Perhaps I’m wearing my heart on my sleeve, but I don’t need to hide from the Beta.
He’s been my only true friend since I arrived in Fort Smit.
“The pack wants you to train them, Alpha.” His use of my rank to address me indicates how serious he is right now. “The safety of the pack is of the utmost importance, and they’re willing to adapt.”
I sigh heavily, releasing the tensions that keep me in a vicious cycle of self-loathing. Connor’s offer is too good to pass up, and it’s about time I stepped into my Alpha shoes and took my leadership seriously. It’s what Uncle Elias would have wanted if he was alive.
“The change will be drastic,” I admit sternly. “But it’s necessary. I know that Nightclaw refutes violence, but it will have to be embraced if we want to keep our people safe.”
Connor grins pridefully, his eyes lighten up with eagerness. “That’s what I wanna hear! That’s what we all wanna hear!”
I chuckle under my breath, proceeding to give Connor instructions to call up a meeting with the pack this evening. The Beta has somehow managed to reignite a flame I thought I’d buried long ago, but then again, that’s his duty. With my fighting spirit reaffirmed, I’m also distracted from wallowing in the sorrows of my estranged relationship with my brother.
It’s not like I have much to look forward to in life, apart from leading the Nightclaw Pack and keeping them safe. They’re all I have left since walking away from Valley Walker meant leaving behind the life I could have had—a business to run, a mate to reproduce werewolf pups to carry my lineage. I’d given up on everything else, the least I can do is take care of this pack and be a good leader.
***
“Nightclaw wolves…” I address the members of the pack in the den while the sun retreats behind us and gives way to the moon’s dominance in the sky. Now that I have something to look forward to, I no longer see mistrust reflected in the eyes of the werewolves seated on the log benches in front of me.
It was only my faltering resolve that had me seeing an illusion based on my preconceived ideas about myself and my worthiness. Right now, as the Nightclaw pack sits in silence as they wait for my announcement, I can tell that I’m a respected member of this pack. Not just any member, but the Alpha, the leader, whose every word is digested with honor amongst the pack.
I had no reason to doubt myself. The confirmation of my good standing in Nightclaw has me explaining to the members of the pack that the looming threat of the rogues who attacked us two weeks ago is an issue that’s being dealt with by the newly formed Werewolf Council of Oklahoma Packs. With the Alphas of six of the wolf packs in the Oklahoma region putting their heads together to find the location of the rogues before their next attack, the Nightclaw Pack is in capable hands. Still, knowing that we’re prepared for another attack will be an advantage. The other packs have been training their wolves for years, and it’s about time we did the same.
“... As of tomorrow, we will begin training here in Fort Smit,” I announce, to which the crowd is stirred with eager smiles and shuffling on their seats with anticipation. My chest swells with pride as I continue, “Beta Connor will hand out a training schedule. All those who are of age will be given a choice to attend training. This is not compulsory, but a voluntary task.”
Connor begins passing out the flyers we prepared this afternoon, so I give the pack some time to read through the schedule before proceeding with my speech.
“Again, training is voluntary. But out of curiosity, by a show of hands, who has decided to join us?”
I’m surprised when most of the gathered wolves raise their hands, proving my suspicions gravelly wrong. The Nightclaw Pack might be the weakest in the alliance, but it won’t be forever. I underestimated myself, and the members of the pack.
With a closing note to thank the members of Nightclaw for their willingness to train in combat, I dismiss the meeting and hang back at the altar as they leave the thatched-roof building on the outskirts of the forest that lines the Nightclaw border. Gone is my need to cower and hide from the pack I’m meant to lead, and I greet each member with a curt nod and elevated smile until only Connor remains.
“What did I tell you?” Connor quips with a cocky smirk. “Nightclaw has faith in you, Alpha Dorian.”
“Shut up, Connor!” I retort with a lighthearted chuckle. “I would thank you, but you’re just doing your job.”
“I’m doing the Moon Goddess’s work by reminding you just who the fuck you are, Dorian.”
“Fine…” I blow out a defeated breath. There’s no denying it—Connor has reminded me of my rank in the Nightclaw Pack. Even if I wasn’t born into this pack, they respect me enough to agree to the changes I plan on making. “Thank you for being a good Beta, Connor. Happy?”
Connor beams from ear to ear. “Elated!” he concedes. “Now, what’s next for the Alpha of Nightclaw?”
I shrug diffidently. “What else are you gonna remind me about? Am I not doing enough?”
“Maybe it’s time you considered taking a mate…?” he offers snidely.
I shake my head firmly. Taking a mate is definitely not in the cards for me. The only consolation for leaving Valley Walker was getting out of an agreement between my father and his Beta—to take the Beta’s daughter as a mate once I stepped into the role of Alpha of Valley Walker. When I left the pack, I also escaped a clause that would have been imposed on me.
If there’s one thing I’m grateful for, it’s that I’m not obligated to take a mate in Nightclaw. Following my uncle’s footsteps, I can live out the rest of my life as a bachelor, and pick a future Alpha amongst the youth.
“Unfortunately, Nightclaw doesn’t have many prospects now that you’ve impregnated Ingrid,” I tease.
“Hey!” Connor protests and his jaw drops. “Don’t tell me you had your eyes on her!”
I chuckle wholeheartedly. “Of course not, dude! Relax!” I put my hands up in a show of surrender when Connor’s blue eyes darken as if he were preparing to fight me. “I don’t have eyes for any she-wolf. I’d long given up on taking a mate.”
“Does it have anything to do with the past?” he asks as he follows me to the front door.
“Not really. Some things are more important than reproduction, like ensuring the safety of one’s pack. And others,” I add.
“Right… You still care about Valley Walker, don’t you?”
I nod in agreement as Connor locks the pack den behind us. The cool night air is a stark contrast to my naturally hot blood, but it beckons to my inner wolf.
“Valley Walker has Damian, and he’ll continue the Walker name. That’s all that matters.”
“The Walker name extends to the Nightclaw Pack too,” Connor defends as he turns to me. “Elias Walker took homeless wolves off the streets and gave them a home. My parents included. But the pack is still worthy of being preserved with the Walker name carrying it through generations to come.”
I stare at the Beta for a long moment, mulling over his proclamation while he stands tall as the conviction to accompany his words. My concerns come crashing back with a force tenfold stronger than they had been this morning.
Uncle Elias took homeless werewolves under his wing, but he never cared about the legacy behind his work. It’s a mantle that weighs heavier than I expected, and I can see in his eyes how much the Walker name means to Connor.
As if I needed another reason to feel disheartened…
I clear my throat before responding, “I’m sorry, Connor, but just like Uncle Elias, I’m not gonna take a mate. His priorities were elsewhere, not in fulfilling a mate bond. Take a look around…” I say with a gesture toward the town as it rests for the evening beneath the soft glow of the moonlight. “... My uncle achieved all of this because he didn’t have any distractions.”
“I agree, Dorian,” Connor concedes with a brisk nod. “But the question is… What do you plan on achieving here in Nightclaw?”
Pursing my lips, the question rolls around between my skull like a marble in an empty tin can, echoing off the walls eerily. What do I plan on achieving here in Nightclaw?
I hadn’t given it much thought before now. For me, seeking refuge in my uncle’s pack was only my form of escapism from the burdens of the Valley Walker Pack, and from the shame that hung over me when no one believed that I had nothing to do with Finch’s death. Coming here wasn’t meant to be profound or life-changing for the Nightclaw Pack.
Until now…
“We’re making changes, Connor,” I returned. “The Nightclaw Pack hasn’t been trained in combat, and we’re doing that now. I’ll make my mark that way.”
Connor expresses his acceptance with a gentle pat on my shoulder. “Sure, Dorian. I guess that’s enough for now.”
“Well, you better hope that Ingrid is carrying a boy,” I quip with a light chuckle. “Maybe he’ll grow up and become this pack’s next Alpha.”
“Hm,” Connor hums dubiously with an unsettled shrug. He was relieved that he didn’t have to become Alpha when I arrived. He probably doesn’t want a son to feel as pressured as he did.
It only makes sense, since he’s not a true-blooded Alpha. Only true bloods are born and built for the Alpha rank. Connor, on the other hand, is built to be a Beta, to serve beside his Alpha as a mediator and sometimes as a therapist, like he was for me this morning.
He’s the voice of reason, and it comes naturally to him. That’s why, even after he leaves, I’m left with his question lingering in my mind.
Shaking my head when I’m alone in the ingress of the woods, I decide that it’s best to blow off some steam and find another means of escape through my inner wolf. The powerful Alpha wolf can take the reins and deal with the torment of my overworking mind. Closing my eyes, I put that mind to rest as I invoke my wolf and feel the embrace of soft fur spreading across my limbs as they crackle and morph into the limbs of my dark work.
When I land on my front paws, a huge yawn escapes my wolf’s muzzle as if my inner wolf is as tired as my human brain. I push through the exhaustion, entering the woods and jogging past the trees. With my heightened sense of smell filling my airways with the fresh scents of the earth amalgamated in the air, I’m able to pick up pace until nature’s treasures become a blur in my vision and I find myself entering the clearing deep in the woods.
Slowing down, my ears perk up when I pick up the sound of a goat crunching on fresh blades of grass. I sniff the air, and the scent of my prey directs my eyes to the left where I spot its head peeking from behind a fern bush.
Perfect!
The hunt will be effortless, my eyes detecting a clear, stealthy path toward the goat. All it would take is one leap over the bush with distended canines to sink into the animal’s neck.
It’s an easy kill and a feast I can enjoy all by myself.
Slowly, I turn on my hind legs, lowering my rear to prepare for the lunge. I’m about to push forward when the goat sticks its head up and its eyes widen in alarm.
My concentration on my prey is abruptly snatched to the sound of rustling trees in the distance. Sharp and alert, I turn my head in the direction of the interruption that grows louder into the unmistakable trod of heavy, earth-shaking steps.
The air fills with a pungent, murky smell, and panic sets in. I know that smell from a mile away—traces of it could be caught lingering in the air long after I’d chased them off Nightclaw territory two weeks ago.
Rogues…
I don’t have time to run back to the town or call for help through the mind link shared between the Nightclaw wolves. Since I’m not born a Nightclaw, our telepathic communication isn’t as strong or instantaneous as it should be amongst members of the same pack. I’d been training it for years after learning how to drown out Valley Walker’s mind link. It was something I’d been hoping to strengthen during training since calling to the Nightclaw wolves needs more time.
Time that I don’t have when I’m suddenly surrounded by a group of rogue wolves twice the size of the group Connor and I chased off Fort Smit before. They have me confined to a tight-knit circle, the washed-out creatures licking their lips as if I’m their next meal.
Low growls signal the incoming attack when one rogue pounces on me. It’s much smaller, and all it takes is a slam of my shoulder to send it flying across the meadow and crashing against a tree.
That’s when the others attack. My fierce Alpha wolf is in full swing, slaying the vile rogues with ruthless slashes of my sharp claws and tearing through them with fangs that were meant to feast on my prey tonight. One by one, I’m able to take them down, sending some through the air while others get their rib cages crushed beneath my large paws.
The fight becomes a blur as I fight for my life, ripping through the group with only one thought serving as a driving force for my courage—I need to protect the Nightclaw Pack at all costs. I lunge for the largest rogue wolf, who drools as if it’s about to snap its teeth at me, knocking it over and snarling in its face while I have it pinned to the group.
The rage inside me boils over and has me seeing red, my inner wolf throwing aside the little mercy I might have exercised before. I can’t spare the lives of worthless mutts anymore, and this will be my first kill.
For Finch Lycoan. For the Nightclaw Pack. For my younger brother, Damian. For the Werewolf Council of Oklahoma Packs who will finally trust me.
I lean in intending to sever its head from its neck, when my wolf neck is suddenly pierced with something sharp. My wolf whimpers as soon as something scorching hot enters my bloodstream and seizes my vision. While the rogue’s dark eyes become a blur, my limbs become frozen, whatever poison I’d been injected with immobilizes me. My weight drags me down just as everything around me fades to black.