Page 4 of Alpha's Unclaimed Mate

“You dressed up for me.”

Pink tints her cheeks, and I reach out, brushing my thumb over it.

Leaning in, I whisper, “Cute,” in her ear, and the color deepens, sending blood rushing straight to my cock.

I’m about to dive in and get a taste of those pouty lips when the horn blares outside, making me pull back. I glance at the gate, where Phil points to his watch, reminding me of our plan.

I turn back to her and murmur, “Well, I gotta go.”

Halfway down the stairs, I add, “Don’t wait up,” before sauntering out.

As I get into the passenger seat, one of the pack warriors in the back complains, “Why were you wasting time with the rug rat?”

“Watch it!” I hiss. Everyone freezes at the tone of my voice. “Remember that you’re talking to your future alpha, mutt.”

As they gape at me, I shake my head. A muscle twitches in my jaw. “Let’s move it,” I say, slamming the car door behind me. “We’re burning daylight, guys.”

I switch on the car radio and roll the windows down. The air up here carries a hint of lilacs and I close my eyes, imagining her fingers gently running through my hair, taking all the stress away.

God! It feels great to be back. All my senses are heightened. My wolf and I are in sync and in control.

“I can’t wait to snag a tourist tonight,” one of the gammas in the back announces. “I heard someone mention Russian women are here this season.”

“Who knew you could be so interested in a ski resort,” my best friend Luke guffaws next to me. He is the only one who’s been away from home just as long as I have. I’ve decided to take him as my beta when I become alpha. Not only is his father my father’s beta, but he comes from a long line of alphas.

“I can’t wait to let loose. That camp did not offer one opportunity,” Phil mutters.

I can smell the testosterone raging through this car. The need to get laid is high. And after the gruelling last six months, I’d say we deserve it. I’m happy to offer my ski resort for that very purpose. With the skiing season on its last leg, there are bound to be some exotic beauties hanging around the resort.

“Maybe we can create our own version of spring break right here in Mammoth?” the gamma pipes up.

With the increasingly frequent border skirmishes and attacks from the northern rogue pack, coming home early was the only option. And tonight, hell, even I wouldn’t mind getting some.

As the car takes the route up the hill, my gaze immediately flits to the estate. The massive French window in the easternmost room is lit up. A figure leans against the glass.

Titan recognizes her silhouette.Seren.

I close my eyes and picture her curled up with a book, glancing at the road every now and then, pushing the glasses back up her nose. A small smile plays on my lips. My muscles relax.

My little Seren-hen is cozied up inside my home, waiting for me. Just the way I like it.

There’s an odd satisfaction in knowing she’s waited for me this entire time. Maybe staying away for three years wasn’t a bad decision after all.

“I heard Grit managed to snag himself a real prize while we were gone. Apparently, some model he met during a holiday turned out to be his mate.”

Phil’s words pull me out of my thoughts. I roll my eyes and stare out the window.

“A mate,” Luke whispers, his voice barely audible, laced with a longing I can’t quite decipher. “Having a mate changes everything.”

Gamma Jake snorts. “Yeah, right, says the one who’s only ever been with his mate. If I had a girlfriend like Grit’s, I wouldn’t even bother looking for mine.”

As they continue to discuss mates, my attention drifts off. Since my parents had me in their late thirties, I always knew I’d have to take the mantle of alpha earlier than most. Everything has always been fast-tracked for me. While I’ve trained as hard as I can, I know being an alpha won’t be a walk in the park.

A few minutes later, we drive through the gates of the Mammoth Peak Ski Resort. I’m ready to take a breather, so we hit the bar right away.

Since it’s the last leg of the ski season, the bar is bustling with energy. Tourists and a handful of locals—many still in snow gear—mill around the main bar area while staff weave through the crowd carrying trays of drinks.

“Shots for everyone at the table,” I announce as we take our seats. “Of the strongest liquor in your collection.”

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