Page 2 of Cruel Alpha Daddy

She simply nods, turning her face away from me. I can see how drawn and tired she is, but she still doesn’t want to complain.

She’s just like all of us. So damaged, lost, and broken that she believes she deserves this punishment.

I walk away from the camp and jog up the slope so that I can look out across the ranges and our little camp huddled beneath me. We will have to move soon; we’ve almost bled this spot dry of resources. I’ll have to scout around for an abandoned mine or a patch of forest that is well-sheltered with access to water and animals to hunt.

We lived rough like this for so long because it was the way Jethro wanted to live. When he took over from Elton—the psycho alpha Bailey killed a few years ago—Jethro moved most of the pack out into the wilderness and began his new regiment of violence and pain. The biker faction stayed in Sawpit to run the crime rings.

There was plenty of money from the crime rings, and the old alpha had access to decent resources, but Jethro taught that comforts like this were a weakness. True wolves only need the forest. It was the only way we could be truly free.

And I believed it.

The sun breaks through the peaks, and the warm rays caress my cheeks. I loved that life, running wild in the forest with my brothers. It wasn’t until Jethro was killed and I became alpha that I realized there were innocents to care for. People who depended on me to keep them safe.

I intended for us to live rough for a short time while I secured housing for us. We couldn’t settle in Sawpit. It was far too dangerous there.

I stopped the raids on random businesses and forbade the biker faction to engage in crime. I know they didn’t listen to me, which is even more reason to keep the women and children out of Sawpit.

A sigh eases through me, making my breath fog the air. We are two packs now, not one. I am well aware that the bikers don’t respect me or recognize me as alpha, but are only paying me lip service. They want the entire pack for themselves, and to return to the bloody, hellish conditions Jethro reveled in.

What would they do to the innocents if they managed to take control from me?

I shudder just thinking about it. They don’t want an all-out bloodbath—at least, not yet. If they can undermine me and gain the trust of the others, then they can simply kill me and do as they like with the women and children. If they start a war, there might be no one left for them to oppress once it’s over.

I turn away from the camp and look up to the icy peaks. The urge to run is almost overwhelming. I can feel it, smell it. The joy of escape, the pure freedom of only worrying about myself and no one else.

But all I have ever done is run.

I close my eyes briefly, feeling the ache in my chest intensify. If I had never known love, maybe I could run.

But I have, and that’s why I can’t abandon the others.

When Kyle was here, I knew the love of a brother. The pain in my heart rips through me, making me want to howl at the sky. I still can’t forgive him. I can’t ever forget what he did to me.

If he was going to run, why didn’t he tell me? I thought he trusted me.

That brief time I was friends with Kyle taught me the value of brotherhood, of friendship. Now that I know what it feels like, I can’t abandon the pack the way he abandoned me.

I want to be angry with him. I wish I could hate him, but I understand him too well.

Turning from the peaks, I jog back down to the camp. I don’t shift into my wolf shape because I know that lonely howl is still trapped inside me. If I give it the slightest chance, it will spiral from my throat, consuming me with pain.

All around camp, people are coming out of their tents, lighting fires and making breakfast. There is a lot of laughter and comradery, which lightens my heart but also adds to the weight of my responsibility.

Heading up to the top end of camp, I’m struck by the silence. That’s when I realize the biker guys aren’t here. They always make an ungodly racket when they first wake up, announcing their brutality and lack of consideration for the rest of the pack.

Fuck! Not again!

I hope they’ve simply headed to Sawpit to get drunk or make a quick grab for cash, as they often do. It’s far more likely, though, that they have gone out to cause trouble.

What will it be this time? Burning down a campsite? Bar brawl? Trashing houses and cars?

Walking through their end of the camp, my suspicion grows. It looks like they didn’t even spend the night here, so they have had a lot of time to create a real mess.

One I will have to clean up.

I hurry back towards the main camp to call together a meeting. There are a lot of good men in this pack, men who want to protect their mates and their pups. I know every single one of them is fighting with me to turn this pack around, but I also know they are afraid of the biker faction.

And its leader.

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