Chapter 2 - Hunter
The house is quiet while I stand near the massive windows overlooking the dark forest as the storm rolls beyond the cliffs. Pine Ridge stretches below the hill in a scatter of warm lights through the trees, tucked beneath their cover.
Most wolves would find the view calming, and while I once did, I haven’t learned how to relax again since returning.
Regardless of how long we’ve been back on the island, moving from town to town, my instincts catalog everything automatically. From scent trails to the physical locations of my pack members, I catch it all, heightened from the moment I underwent the ceremony.
I always knew I’d be the alpha one day, but living it now, after everything I’ve done and seen, feels like stepping into a completely new life.
“You’re brooding already,” Cole says dryly as he enters the living room carrying two glasses of whiskey.
I snort quietly and take the offered drink with a nod in thanks. “I assumed that came with the title.”
“It does, just usually not this fast,” he murmurs with a knowing gleam in his eyes. “Normally, the new alpha would sit with the new position to get a feel for it. Maybe even bask in the glory while he can.”
He lowers himself into the leather chair near the fireplace with the slow ease of a man finally allowing himself to age after carrying the weight of that responsibility for multiple decades.
Subtle gray streaks cut through his blonde hair now, though he’s still broad enough to intimidate most wolves without trying.
Even when an alpha relinquishes his title, that edge doesn’t fully leave.
The others might still be cautious of him, but to me, he’s been something else entirely.
Cole has been a mentor and a father in every way that mattered.
My real dad died when I was eight. A rogue attack near our northern border with Wraith Peak took him, and some of the details are foggy by now.
Of course, I’ll never forget the chaos after it happened, or my mother crying so hard she couldn’t stand upright for several days, but the sting of it feels as natural as anything else to me now.
Cole stepped in before the grief could swallow me completely. He taught me how to fight, to lead, and how to survive being born into expectations sharp enough to cut you open if you fail.
“You handled the ceremony well,” he says after taking a sip, brown eyes on me.
“I stood there and said the right words,” I return casually, shrugging off the compliment despite his approval meaning something to me. “It didn’t feel very demanding.”
Cole huffs a laugh to himself. “That’s the military talking.”
“Special ops,” I correct automatically.
“Still military, and still drilled with everything you picked up there.”
I lean against the window frame, idly swirling the glass between my fingers as I watch the tops of the trees moving in the dark.
The fire crackles softly between us, and for a while, neither of us speaks.
It has always been easy with Cole, since he understood my moods and knew how to navigate them. He never pushed when I wasn’t receptive, and took advantage of the times I was, doing everything he could to teach me before I went off on my own. That kind of perception and empathy was never lost on me.
“I can tell you’re waiting for some kind of disaster to strike,” he eventually says while he studies me over the rim of his drink. “Instead of celebrating coming home, you’re tense enough to be at war.”
I glance at him, well aware that he’s right.
“Every new alpha does eventually,” Cole continues. “You spend years preparing for leadership, then the second it’s yours, you start looking for the thing that’ll tear it apart. But if you do, you’ll lose sight of the important things.”
He’s not wrong, like usual.
The weight settled onto my shoulders the second the ceremony ended, and now, I can feel how the pack trusts and believes in me. That kind of faith can be dangerous if it’s mishandled, and now more than ever, I’m aware of it suspended in my grasp.
“I know how to lead soldiers,” I say quietly, contemplating. “I know strategy and combat. I know how to keep my head up even when things go south, but pack politics are different. There are still wolves out there who want me and the others to fail.”
Cole leans back and nods absently to himself. “That’s true, but those dynamics aren’t as different as you think.”
I raise a brow, silently telling him to continue.
“Wolves want strength, and they seek it out for their own survival. Still, they stay loyal because of consistency, stability, and protection. That is what you offer them in return. They need to know their alpha sees them.”
Something about that sinks in deeper than it should.
Staring into my drink instead of responding, I consider what that means and how I can make them feel that way.
“You’ll make mistakes. Hell, I did from day one, but that didn’t stop me from correcting them.” His mouth twitches faintly. “I still do, according to my mate.”
That earns a quiet chuckle out of me. “And she’s a saint for dealing with you.”
“That she is. I’ll be struck down if I ever claim otherwise.”
A rare warmth pulses briefly in my chest at all the memories I had with both him and Mary. Since my mom got along well with both of them, I spent a lot of time at their place and learned even more.
Cole sets his drink down and fixes me with the same look he used before difficult lessons. “One more thing.”
I sigh internally, giving him a flat look. “What is it this time?”
“Being alpha doesn’t mean carrying everything alone.”
“That sounds suspiciously healthy,” I murmur with a brow cocked in his direction.
“It means trusting your wolves, and knowing when to delegate even if your pride says otherwise.”
He narrows his eyes at my grunted response.
“I’m serious, Hunter. You’ve spent too many years operating like isolation keeps everyone safe. You thought that even before,” he tells me, not afraid to be frank with me. “You didn’t step into this role just to act alone. Don’t be like the Voss line.”
The words scrape against my instincts immediately, and the mention of Hayes only makes it worse.
Ever since Zane put him back in line, I’ve been trying to keep my mind off him, but I still can’t. Not while he’s out there, surely planning some kind of revenge. He’s been left unattended for too long, and by now, he’s an anomaly I can’t stand.
Cole may be right about my old habits, but I also know what it means to work with others now. I spent long enough with the guys to see how it benefits everyone. I just need to translate that into my own pack.
Familiar footfalls enter the room, and when I glance up, I catch my mom carrying two plates as if I haven’t eaten in weeks instead of hours.
“I brought your favorite,” she says immediately, offering me a far too generous helping of apple pie she made earlier. “And I don’t want to hear anything about staying trim. A little dessert never hurt anyone.”
Cole smirks openly into his glass, then gives her a murmured thanks.
A small part of me already regrets coming home. Slightly.
“Mom…”
“You barely touched your dinner.”
“I ate,” I tell her, even if it’s useless arguing with her about these things.
“You inhaled half a steak and called it enough. That’s hardly the portions you’re used to.”
With a sigh, I give her a deadpanned look. “I’m twenty-five.”
“And still terrible at taking care of yourself. I thought the military would’ve at least taught you that,” she says, using that nagging tone, but with a warmer expression, betraying how she just wants to tease me.
I can’t say it’s surprising that she made me one of my favorites within forty-eight hours of returning home. And like usual, that annoyingly fond sensation twists in my chest despite myself.
My mother looks the same as she did when I left for deployment years ago.
Her hair is still just as dark and long, and her green eyes are intense yet filled with motherly warmth like sunlight streaking through the tree cover.
She’s small in stature but capable of terrifying grown wolves when necessary.
Including me… especially me.
Her hand rises to cup my jaw briefly before I can dodge away, studying me closely. “You look tired.”
“I am tired.”
“Then you should sleep more.”
Cole chuckles to himself, making a poor attempt at keeping quiet.
I give him a flat look while my mother smooths imaginary wrinkles from my shirt like I’m still a kid heading off to school, and even if it’s annoying, I see the pride in her eyes.
“It’s good to have you home,” she says softly.
The teasing drains out of the room instantly, and emotion gathers in my throat.
I swallow around it and nod once. “It’s good to be home.”
Her expression warms, and I’m brought back to those earlier days without warning. To all the time and care she invested in me, even when I was the only thing keeping her head on straight.
Then, because I can’t experience sincerity uninterrupted, she adds, “Now all you need is a mate.”
Cole outright laughs, and I close my eyes briefly.
“That is not my priority right now.”
“Oh, please,” my mother says with a more amused grin. “You’re the alpha now, which means you should start looking more seriously.”
“That’s not how mating works.”
“No, but the pack would love a luna.”
“I just got back,” I utter, letting go of a long-suffering sigh.
It doesn’t matter how often we do this song and dance, or what it’s even about; she rarely backs down.
“And?”
“And I have enough responsibilities already.”
She exchanges a look with Cole that immediately puts me on edge. I already know what that means.
“You know, Clara isn’t wrong,” Cole says casually, more like they’ve had this conversation between the two of them before. “There were several unmated women at the ceremony looking very interested.”
“Please spare me.”
My mother pats my cheek with zero sympathy and grins. “You’ll thank me for pestering you someday.”
“I doubt that,” I murmur, setting the plate aside for now.
She ignores that entirely before finally taking mercy on me and leaving the room.