The Alpha’s Unclaimed Mate (Fierce Alpha #3)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Sienna

Champagne bubbles dance on my tongue as I take a sip from my glass, the warm buzz of alcohol making everything feel pleasantly soft around the edges.

I’m several glasses in, and the world has taken on a gentle, golden glow. But I don’t mind. I’m not as strict with myself as I usually would be because tonight deserves celebrating.

Chief strategic advisor at twenty-six. The youngest person ever to head a division in Moonvale’s history.

That’s me, as of today.

The first thing I did was send a message to my parents. They have been away for almost a year, cruising the world, but they’re my biggest support system, and I knew they would be proud of me.

The thought makes me smile so wide, my cheeks hurt.

When Alpha Darius and the previous chief strategic advisor, Roman, who is retiring due to age, announced my promotion at the office earlier today, it felt like a dream.

But that dream quickly became reality when I was told to attend this welcome party for the delegation from Silvercrest. My first task in my new position.

My wolf preens inside me, satisfied and honored. We’re good at what we do. We proved it.

The party flows around me, a mix of Moonvale and Silvercrest pack members mingling in Darius and Violet’s beautifully decorated mansion.

The sparkling chandeliers above paint the large ballroom with light.

Music plays softly in the background, just loud enough to create ambiance without drowning out conversation.

Anne outdid herself with this welcome party.

Her division is in charge of planning events like this, and she led the team that arranged the whole evening.

Everything is elegant but warm, impressive without being intimidating.

Exactly the kind of atmosphere that makes visiting delegations feel valued rather than scrutinized.

I spot her across the room, laughing at something Violet just said. Warmth blooms in my chest at the sight of them smiling together. My best friends, blissfully happy in ways I’m still getting used to seeing.

They are both married and bonded to their fated mates.

To me, it’s like something out of a fairy tale. My grandparents were fated mates, and watching them used to leave me in awe when I was younger. So in sync, so perfect for each other. Grandma used to say being bonded to your fated mate feels like you’ve been gifted with telepathy.

I always wanted that. I used to daydream about it as a teenager, and now, as an adult, watching my friends find it, the fantasy has awoken in me again.

My wolf preens proudly in my head, and I smile at the visual. Maybe we’ll meet our fated mate someday, or maybe we won’t and we’ll find love on our own. But while we wait for either of those things to happen, I’ll be busy building ourselves up to be the best version of us possible.

I turn to drop my empty champagne flute on the tray of a passing server and smoothly pick up another. I spot a group of some of the Silvercrest delegation sitting by themselves and talking. I immediately make a beeline for them.

“I hope you’re all enjoying the evening,” I start warmly once I’m close enough.

All three turn to me, and I’m met with friendly smiles.

“Certainly, Miss Carter,” Sarah says.

I remember all of their names, having introduced myself to them when they arrived. Sarah is in charge of pack relations.

“Please, call me Sienna,” I urge them all as I take an empty chair at their table.

“Sienna, then,” Marcus, Silvercrest’s chief strategic advisor chimes in. “We were just talking about how this is such a lovely party. Moonvale really knows how to welcome guests.”

Thomas, the quiet analyst, nods in agreement.

“I’m glad to hear that. It’s all thanks to our planning committee,” I say lightly, taking a sip of my champagne before joking, “and our alpha’s credit card.”

Laughter bounces around the group.

“We actually met the head of that committee, Mrs. Ashford, as well as your luna,” Sarah mentions. “They were lovely, as well. Wouldn’t stop singing your praises.”

“Oh,” I chuckle. “Anne and Violet are my friends. They’re the best.”

“It’s reassuring that you have that,” Marcus says, his tone more serious now. “Pack alliances are easier when those involved are capable of forming genuine friendships.”

I smile. “You think a genuine friendship can develop between our packs, then?”

“I do,” he admits. “Alpha Steele doesn’t do anything he doesn’t believe in. If he’s pursuing this merger, it’s because he sincerely thinks it’ll benefit both packs.”

“It’s reassuring how trusting you all seem of your alpha,” I reply.

They all nod.

“He really likes competent people, too, so working with him is easy if you know what you’re doing,” Thomas adds.

“I look forward to working with him,” I say honestly.

“He’ll probably be very impressed with you,” Sarah tells me. “I have to admit I was surprised to meet the head of your division and find her to be someone so young.”

“Yeah! That’s so true,” Marcus smiles as he chimes in. “You must be very skilled.”

I blush. “Thank you. But tell me more about Silvercrest…”

The discussion shifts to how things work in their pack. Given my new role, I should pay closer attention, but the champagne is making my thoughts fuzzy, and I’m content to simply listen to the easy flow of conversation.

Sarah is in the middle of explaining Silvercrest’s training protocols when I realize I need to use the bathroom.

I stand up—maybe a little too quickly. The room tilts slightly, and I grip the back of my chair to steady myself.

“You okay?” Sarah asks, concerned.

“Fine,” I assure her with a bright smile. “Just need to find the ladies’ room. Be right back.”

I navigate through the party with careful steps, hyper-aware of each foot placement. Not drunk, just tipsy. There’s a difference, and I’m still on the right side of that line, although I am a bit wobbly.

The main floor bathroom has a line of three women waiting outside it. I vaguely recognize them as Moonvale pack members, but my champagne-addled brain can’t pull up their names right now.

But my friend is the luna, so I know this house. There’s another bathroom upstairs in the guest wing.

I head for the grand staircase, gripping the banister perhaps more firmly than is typically necessary. The noise of the party fades as I climb, and the hallway at the top is dimmer, quieter, and blessedly peaceful after the buzz of voices below.

The upstairs bathroom is, thankfully, empty. I take care of business, then spend too long staring at myself in the mirror. My cheeks are flushed, my eyes bright and happy. I look exactly like someone who just got the promotion of her dreams.

I splash some cold water on my wrists, trying to clear my head a bit. I should probably switch to water for the rest of the evening. Or at least slow down on the champagne before I do something embarrassing.

The hallway is quiet when I step out. I pause, getting my bearings in the low light. I need to go left to go back to the stairs; right leads deeper into the private wing where Darius and Violet’s bedroom is.

I turn left and take three steps before I collide with something solid.

Someone solid, that is.

Strong hands grip my shoulders, catching me before I can fall backward. The touch sends electricity racing across my skin, every nerve ending suddenly awake and screaming in a way I’ve never experienced before.

“Sorry, I—” The words die in my throat. Everything inside me goes absolutely still.

The man in front of me looks to be in his mid- to late thirties.

Tall, broad-shouldered, wearing an expensive black suit that fits him perfectly.

His hair is dark, slightly silver at the temples.

A birthmark, maybe? His face is all sharp angles and hard lines, handsome in a severe, intimidating way that makes my breath catch.

But it’s his eyes that pin me in place. Dark brown, almost black, and currently staring at me with an expression I can’t read.

His scent fills my nostrils, coffee baked over burning wood.

I already think he is incredibly sexy.

And then, it hits.

The fated mate bond slams into me like a freight train, stealing the breath from my lungs. My wolf, usually quiet and controlled, surges forward with a desperate urgency I’ve never felt before. It echoes through every cell in my body, through my bones, through the very essence of what I am.

This is him. This is the one the Moon Goddess chose for me.

I see the exact moment it hits him, too. His eyes widen fractionally, his grip on my shoulders tightening with the obvious need to claim me. His nostrils flare like he’s scenting me, confirming what we both already know with absolute certainty.

For one perfect, frozen moment, we just stare at each other. The air between us feels charged, alive with possibility and recognition and something that feels like coming home and falling off a cliff all at once.

Then, his expression shutters completely, and he shoves me away. Not gently or carefully—he actually pushes me backward, his hands leaving my shoulders as if I’m burning him.

I stumble, catching myself against the wall, my heart hammering against my ribs and my liquored-up brain struggling to compute.

“Watch where you’re going,” he says, his voice cold and hard.

I stare at him, unable to process what just happened. Unable to reconcile the devastating perfection of finding my mate with the ice in his tone.

He brushes past me, his shoulder deliberately knocking against mine as he strides down the hallway toward the stairs.

I stand frozen against the wall, my pulse pounding so hard, I can hear it in my ears.

My hands are shaking. My wolf is howling inside me, confused and hurt and angry.

The mate bond is still there, pulled tight like a string between us even as he walks away.

I can feel him moving, feel the distance growing with each step he takes.

He felt it, too. I know he did. The realization in his eyes was unmistakable. The feeling I experienced wasn’t one-sided.

So, why is he ignoring me?

He didn’t speak the words that would sever the bond, but I can’t help feeling unwanted and rejected with the way he looked at me, the way he pushed me away like I was distasteful.

The shock starts to wear off, replaced by a hotter, sharper emotion.

I push off the wall and head for the stairs, my earlier tipsiness completely burned away by adrenaline. My feet move quickly, high heels clicking against the hardwood as I head in the same direction he went.

I reach the top of the stairs just in time to see a dark-suited figure disappearing around a corner. But when I get to the main hallway, it’s empty. Just a long corridor stretching in front of me, more halls branching off on either side, no sign of him anywhere.

I take a few steps forward, glancing into each hallway, then stop when I don’t see him.

I stand there in the vacant corridor, breathing hard, my hands clenched into fists at my sides.

Did that actually just happen? I met my fated mate, and he was an asshole to me.

My wolf is still agitated, pacing restlessly inside me. She’s perplexed. Our mate rejected us. Pushed us away. Why?

The shock is gone now, replaced entirely by anger.

Who the hell does he think he is?