The Wolf Prince's Rival Alpha Mate

1. Alliance Through Marriage

ALLIANCE THROUGH MARRIAGE

I received my father’s message, which would forever change my life, when I was busy washing off vampire gore in the river.

The water was icy cold, and the chill prickled at my skin like thousands of small needles, but it dulled the pain from several deep cuts etched on my body, left by vampires’ claws, fangs, and blades.

I was sure that the blade wounds would fully heal in a day, but the ones infected with vampire venom might take longer.

My army had just won a battle against the vampires from Kaelith Castle.

It was a brutal one; several of my best warriors fell, but I managed to slaughter Count Kaelith’s right-hand man, Archibald Clarkin, by tearing his throat wide open with my fangs, then twisting his head off with my claws.

The rest of the vamps ran with their tails between their legs, seeing that their commander had fallen.

Despite the victory, my soldiers and I were in no mood to celebrate. Too much werewolf blood had spilled, and I saw no end to this feud between werewolves and vampires subsiding anytime soon. The enemy would only come back with more reinforcements, and my clan was the only one holding them back.

Before I even had a chance to catch my breath, Adela trotted toward me and stopped short at the bank.

She was my second-in-command, a tall and strong female alpha with a handsome face and piercing eyes.

Her dark curly hair was braided into tall warrior style, showing a clean-shaven undercut, with intricate tattoos on her scalp.

“Fenris, your father sent you a letter,” she yelled at me.

I was vigorously scrubbing dry blood from my chest, and I grunted, “What does he want now?”

“Um …” Adela hesitated, which was not a good sign. “Promise me you won’t overreact?”

I paused, turning to look at her with a frown. “What is it?”

“The messenger said … your father is sending Leif to attend Prince Damien’s Mate Selection Ball.” She finished her words with a grimace, as though she’d already known I’d overreact.

My brother Leif was seven years younger than me.

He was the only omega among my siblings, and he’d turned nineteen just last month.

Maybe legally he was old enough to be mated, but he was too young to be sent into that pompous, treacherous, gossipy, and backstabbing Nocturne Court!

What in the Great Wolf’s name had gotten into my father’s head? !

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” I growled in rage, marching out of the water, disregarding my nudity, as I held out my right hand to Adela. “Where’s the goddamn letter?”

Several nearby soldiers who were busy with after-battle clean-up duties stole a few glances at me, but no one dared to stare.

Even though I was not yet officially the Jarl of the Winterthrope Clan, everyone knew I was in charge now that my father’s health was declining. They knew better than to disrespect me.

Adela handed me my father’s letter, stained by the blood on her hand.

I gave it a cursory scan, skipping all the flowery political bullshit, and found the essential points: We’d lost too many wolves fighting against the vampires.

Winterthrope couldn’t stand alone, so we were going to join the Werewolf Kingdom of Nocturne as one of their major clans.

Nothing could strengthen an alliance better than a marriage, and my brother was unfortunately going to be sacrificed.

“Over my fucking dead body!” I snarled, crumpling the paper in my hand.

“What are you going to do?” Adela said, worried. “Please don’t have another fight with your father ... He’s still the jarl, you know. He can exile you if you continue to provoke him!”

“Without me, he can well go wash his ass and wait to be fucked by the vamps,” I grunted. “Prepare my horse, I’ll go see my father.”

I arrived at Jarlstead at midnight, which was still very early for werewolves.

There was a rowdy feast going on, and the elder alphas were already half-drunk; some were dancing clumsily, others were flirting with pretty omegas or making out with their mates.

My father sat on the throne, drinking, and laughing with his Luna, Lady Astrid.

Lady Astrid, a female omega in her late forties, with exquisite long hair shimmering like white gold, was not my mother.

My mother was only one of my father’s lovers, not his true mate.

Father had sired me, his eldest, and several other children before he finally found his fated mate, after which he tossed my mother and his other lovers aside, leaving them undesired by other werewolves, and having to fend for themselves.

However, Lady Astrid didn’t give my father an alpha son, so one day he suddenly showed up at the small, rundown hovel my mother and I lived in for the first ten years of my life, and declared me as his heir.

To this day, I still hate him for abandoning my mother like that. Even if he didn’t love her, at least he could have taken better care of her. Now that my mother had passed away, the hatred had slowly settled into a dry, hard crust of grudge in my heart.

The conviviality paused as I pushed the door open and marched in, bringing the swirling cold gust of late winter, and dampening the warmth of the feast. I ignored all those staring eyes and made my way through the crowd.

My father, Jarl Harald, raised his drinking horn as he saw me come in and said loudly, “Fenris! My son! We are celebrating another victory you’ve brought us!”

“Celebrate?” I replied with a cold sneer. “Do you know how many wolves can never come home to their families? There is nothing to celebrate.”

My voice was loud enough to echo in the great hall, and judging from people’s expressions, it served as a slap in the face, which was the exact effect I intended.

The muscles in Father’s face twitched as his expression darkened. He placed the horn down and said with a much harder voice, “We’ll talk privately. Come meet me in the back.” He then stood up and exited through the side door.

Lady Astrid followed him.

I decided to stop making a scene and follow them, leaving a room full of awkward silence.

“That behaviour was uncalled for,” Father said as we entered his chamber. “Astrid spent a lot of effort arranging the feast in your honour.”

“Then my lady shouldn’t have bothered, since you didn’t even know I’d be here,” I replied flatly.

Lady Astrid sighed. “We knew you’d be here once you received the letter.”

“You know me well, my lady, but then would you care to explain to me why you are allowing my father to send your only son to that den of corrupted fuckers?”

“Fenris!” Father bellowed, his still razor-sharp gaze bore into mine. “Watch whom you are addressing! She is your Luna!”

I rolled my eyes.

Lady Astrid said gently, “I appreciate your concern for Leif. I know you are always very protective of him, and I’m grateful for that. But this is about the survival of our clan, and Leif knows his duty.”

“Leif is only nineteen years old! He’s still a boy! He shouldn’t have any duty!”

“He is of mating age, and he has agreed to it,” Father said.

I scowled at him. “Bullshit! He told me he wanted to go to the academy in Sirenchester before I left, that was only last month!”

“Fenris ...” A soft fourth voice joined.

I paused and turned my head, seeing Leif standing at the door. He was tall for an omega, but with a slim frame and a delicate countenance. His baby blue eyes looked at me with a subtle hint of sadness as he said, “Father was telling the truth. I agreed to it.”

“Because they made you!”

“No, I agreed to it of my own volition,” Leif said.

An expression of resolution gradually settled on his face.

“Everyone needs to play their part when our soldiers are dying on the battlefield. I’m ready for my part.

Besides ...,” he smiled a little, “it’s just a ball, the prince may not select me as his mate at all. ”

“Well, if he has any taste at all, he’ll definitely select you ...

” I grumbled. I think I was being pretty objective.

Leif was beautiful even by vampire standards.

He had the most flawless ivory skin I’d seen, and his short, silky, curly hair was platinum blond, almost silver under the sun, unlike my long, braided, dirty-blond hair.

I was sure that he had inherited nine out of ten of Lady Astrid’s more refined and elegant features and only a smidge of my father’s more rugged and hardened northern look.

Many people had expected me to despise Leif, since he was Lady Astrid’s son.

But for some reason, I never hated him. I still remembered the first time I met him.

I was ten, an angsty, broody child who was ready to hate anything vaguely connected to the woman who had stolen my father, especially a crying toddler who wouldn’t shut up.

But then, when he saw me, he smiled and reached out for me, which shocked everyone, because he had always been shy.

The moment he wrapped his little hand on my fingers and giggled at me, I knew I couldn’t possibly hate him.

“You don’t have to do this, Leif. We can find alliances in other ways!” I turned to my father, saying, “I can marry someone. Does the Nocturne King have any beta or omega sons or daughters?”

“Unfortunately, all three of his children are alphas. Even if he did have a beta or omega prince or princess, do you think he’ll marry them off to a newly joined clan they consider to be uncivilized brutes?” Father scoffed, waving his hand.

“All three of his children are alphas? Don’t you see the potential issue? There will be a bloodbath when the king dies, and his children fight for the crown!” I argued in frustration. “Is this Prince Damien even competent enough to have a shot at the throne?”

“He is the most likely one,” Lady Astrid said. “He is smart, strong, and patient, and has plenty of experience on the battlefield. His only disadvantage is that he is the second son of the king.”

“The king has yet to select an heir, so anyone is possible. But since the older prince, Valerian, already has a mate, Damien is our best bet,” father said solemnly, “and even if he doesn’t choose Leif, it’s a good opportunity for us to enter the court and scout for any potential allies, so ...”

Father paused briefly, staring at me with a heaviness in his gaze, and continued, “I want you to escort Leif to Nocturne, be his chaperone, protect him, and help him gain the prince’s favour, until the ball ends, and the prince has selected a mate. Will you do that for your brother?”

I was about to say, of fucking course I would do that, but then a thought came to me. “What if the vamps attack again? I killed Count Kaelith’s second-in-command, and I’m pretty sure he’ll retaliate. What if he runs to their king and asks for help?”

“Your brothers and sisters can hold them off. And I’m not so old that I can’t even kill some vamps anymore,” father said resolutely.

“Please, Fenris, we need Nocturne’s support,” Lady Astrid said, almost pleadingly. “Help Leif, will you?”

I ground my teeth, sat down on a chair, and considered the whole situation.

We did need help, and Nocturne was strong enough to deter the vamps, but was it worth it to sacrifice Leif’s entire life?

He wanted to be a healer and travel the world, but once he was selected as a prince’s mate, he would be tied down by court duties and, hell ...

become breeding stock, even. Male omegas could also give birth to cubs, after all.

But then, if Leif had decided to do it, was I in any position to object to it?

Perhaps, at this moment, the best I could do was make sure that in Nocturne, no one dared to fuck with Winterthrope and to let that Prince Damien know that if he dared to disrespect my brother, he had me to answer to.

And if I could find an alliance without having Leif married out, all for the best.

“Fine, I’ll do it,” I said grumpily.