Page 25 of Traded to the Alpha Wolf

“Go ahead,” I tell him, rolling my neck, “say it.”

He grins, all teeth. “It’s just. You’re checking your phone more often than Sara does during a group text.” He lifts his chin toward the line of recruits, who are tangled in a half-assed grappling drill on the patchy grass. “You sure you’ve not turned omega, boss?”

I flip him off, but I know he’s right. It’s the first morning I’ve left Mara alone since she came here, since her heat ended, and even though she’s with Sara at the bakery, my hackles are up. I keep expecting my phone to vibrate with news that she’s bolted. Instead, it’s completely silent except for a single text from Mara herself:I’ll pick up dinner while we’re out. Back at five.

No goodbye, no question, just a blunt report of facts. It’s all I can do not to drive straight over and watch her through the window like a total creep.

Grey’s still watching, so I make a show of tossing my phone onto the bench and turn to the recruits. “Line up,” I bark.

It’s a small intake group, and I look them over; two are still growing and look far too small for their age. Still, they’re keen. One is an apprentice dropout that Rogan, the local logging foreman, asked me to take on, saying the discipline will do him good, and then there are the McNeil twins, who look like they’re already halfway to their latest bar fight. My focus should be here on them, but it keeps drifting back to thoughts of her. I shake my head and let the silence stretch long enough for them to sweat, then start the circuit again. Easy stuff, mainly sprints, push-ups,and wrestling drills. I can tell Grey wants to needle me more, but he’s got enough sense to hold off until the boys are on their second lap and out of earshot.

He nudges me with his elbow, voice lower. “You gonna explain to the pack what she is?”

I don’t answer right away. The sky is clear blue today, making mountains look more magnificent than ever, but it also somehow highlights the essence of nature out here and how far removed it is from the city, and I can’t help wondering if Mara would even want to stay in a place like this, after all that’s happened. I’m not used to being uncertain. It makes my skin itch.

“I don’t know yet,” I say, which is as close to the truth as I’m going to get.

Grey lets it hang, then says, “Sara likes her. Thinks she’s funny.”

“She is.” I can’t help the small smile that creeps in, remembering Mara’s deadpan delivery today at breakfast, when she managed to roast me completely with a single sentence about the ‘alpha energy’ of men who drive big trucks and use French presses. “She’s smart, too.”

Grey nods, staring out at the recruits. I know he’s working up to something. He always does.

He says, “You think she’ll want to stay? After this?”

I shrug, and the motion feels heavier than it should. “She’s not a pet,” I say. “She can do what she wants.”

“But you want her to stay.” He doesn’t phrase it as a question; he never does, but I hear the curiosity buried underneath.

I think about it. I haven’t let myself, not really, but the truth is as ugly as it is simple—the idea of her leaving makes me want to burn the world down, but I also know she’s not really built for this life, or me. She’s young, far too young for me, and used to city life. She’s been infiltrating the hunters and has built an entire identity around getting revenge, so I can’t see her wanting to settle down out here. Especially with a shifter. She may have omega features, but she doesn’t have a wolf, and I know she doesn’t consider herself one of us.

My wolf is pacing now, clearly not liking the way I’m thinking. I clear my throat, snapping out of it. “Focus on the Order, Grey. That’s the only thing that matters right now.”

He grins, knowing he struck a nerve, but he lets it go. “Speaking of, you heard anything new from Europe about those biotech shipments? Rowan said he was working a contact.”

“Nothing concrete,” I say, keeping my voice flat. “But the Order knows someone’s on to them. Rowan’s contact in Berlin got made—he barely got out the window before they torched the safehouse.” I watch the recruits round the corner on their next sprint, lungs heaving in the thin air. “They’ll know we know now. It’s only a matter of time before they try to move operations or ramp up whatever they’re making in that lab.”

Grey grimaces. “Think they’ll make a play for Mara? Or just cut their losses? I mean, why waste their time triggering her omega nature just to hand her over to you and, what…let her just live out the rest of her life?”

Grey’s voicing something that’s been bothering me for weeks now. “Well, I guess they didn’t have much of a choice at the time. My interest in her scent was the only thing stopping me from finishing what I started.”

Grey blows out a breath and leans against the old wooden rail that runs along the edge of the track. “But won’t they want to know if all this research they did worked? If the medication worked? It might not have been their plan, but surely they’re not just going to let it go?”

The thought makes my stomach twist because he’s not wrong. I’m not in the habit of letting paranoia run me, but it’s always been good at keeping me alive. And right now, as I watch the recruits tumble across the grass, all I can picture is Mara’s face this morning as she left with Sara, her chin lifted, eyes defiant, pretending not to care that she’s facing the pack today. I know she’s tough, but she’s not bulletproof.

I run the recruits through the rest of the warm-ups, then clap my hands and point to the mat. “Pair up and spar. You know the rules.” Grey glances at me, a little too eager, and I know he’s itching to work out whatever’s building behind his own eyes. I strip off my jacket, toss it to the bench, and motion him over. The McNeil twins try not to look, but I see them elbowing each other. Everyone wants to see the alpha take on one of his betas, even if it’s just for show.

We circle the mat, sizing each other up. Grey’s one of the only ones in the pack who can really give me a fight, and we both know it. He comes at me low, aiming for a leg sweep, but I’m already expecting it. We clash, bodies slamming together, and there’s that old familiar comfort of adrenaline and the clean white space of nothing but muscle and movement. I let him push me a few feet, let him think he’s got the upper hand, then flip him hard enough to rattle the boards. He lands with a grunt, grins up at me, then hauls himself back to his feet, eyes bright with the promise of round two.

There’s a kind of honesty in fighting. You can’t lie with your body the way you can with words. Every weakness isrevealed, every hesitation magnified. It’s why I’ve always liked it better than talking. So I let Grey come at me again, and this time I give him a little more, twisting at the last second and sending him sprawling. He laughs from the ground, the sound sharp and real. The twins are gawping, and even the dropout looks like he might actually be getting into this.

We go another round, and I’m breathing hard, and sweat is running down my back. But even as I focus on the fight, my mind keeps drifting to Mara. I picture her at the local coffee shop with Sara, the two of them surrounded by the morning crowd. Sara will look out for her, I know that much, but meeting the rest of the pack is never going to be easy. There are always the looks, the questions, the unspoken judgments. The Wilder pack is welcoming, but she’s a city girl, raised human; it’s bound to be a lot for her to process.

Grey must sense the shift in me, because the next time he feints, he tags me hard in the ribs, enough to leave a bruise. I let him, because I deserve it for losing focus. He straightens, panting, hands on his knees, and I let him have the round, grinning as he straightens and tries to rub the sweat out of his eyes.

“See,” Grey says, loud enough for the kids to hear, “even the alpha’s head can’t be in two places at once. You focus, you win.” He slaps me on the shoulder, then turns to the recruits. “Pair off, and if any of you get distracted thinking about your girlfriends, you’ll be eating gravel before lunch.” He gives me a look, sly and conspiratorial, and I roll my eyes.

I let myself stand back, catch my breath, and watch the chaos of training unfold. Grey’s a good trainer; he’s hard but fair, and the kids respect him because he doesn’t bullshit. I catch the way the dropout kid squares up, jaw set so hard I can see the muscles twitch. Even when he gets dumped on his ass, he popsright back up. The kid’s got grit; I’ll give him that, and he might actually do well here. For the first time all day, I feel something close to peace. The air is cold, the sky is clear, and the ache in my muscles is better than overthinking any day. For just a moment, the world narrows to the sound of bodies hitting the ground, the sharp bark of Grey’s voice, and the hum of a pack coming together. I let myself soak it all in and focus on what is in front of me.