Page 5 of Alpha's Unclaimed Mate

The busty waitress arches an eyebrow, a smirk on her lips. “The strongest, huh? We’ll see if you boys can handle that.”

I smile as she walks away. Not many people know this property is part of the Blackwood business empire, and I’d prefer keeping it that way.

“We should make a toast,” Jake suggests when the waitress returns with our drinks.

“Absolutely,” I concur, and we all raise our glasses.

“To new beginnings, new challenges, and proving ourselves worthy. May we be as strong as the mountains that surround us!”

“To finding what makes life complete and holding on to it,” Luke adds wistfully.

Gamma Jake scoffs and raises his glass higher. “To strongdrinks, stronger livers, and having each other’s backs at all times!”

Phil leans back, eyeing the bar before adding, “To finding what we want and reaching out to take it! Here’s to living it up! Cheers!”

We down the shots in one go, the potent liquor burning fiery paths down our throats. Almost as one, we slam the glasses on the table, the wood groaning at the impact.

“What the hell was that?” Luke sputters, his face turning a sickly shade of green as he grips the edge of the table for support. I chuckle as the familiar warmth settles in my gut. The others have to take deep breaths, their eyes wide and watering.

“That was the waitress taking me seriously,” I say, watching her approach as she studies our reactions, with a knowing smirk playing on her lips.

“Should I suggest something lighter now?” she asks as she clears our shot glasses.

While the others place their individual orders, I ask for a bottle of Everclear.

A redhead in a bold dress catches Phil’s eye from across the bar. He winks, but she simply rolls her eyes and turns away. We all crack up, remembering the time he made an ass of himself at a camp while trying to impress a different redhead—the poor man has no luck whatsoever.

My amusement is short-lived. Just as two gorgeous blonde women approach our table, I hear my father’s mind-link cutting through our laughter, summoning me to the VIP room. I groan internally. Why can’t I catch a break?

Slipping my card to the bartender, I head for my father.

Pushing open the heavy door, I feel like I’ve stepped back in time. A crystal chandelier casts a warm glow over dark leather armchairs and a traditional fireplace. The soundproofing is so superb that the music outside is completely drowned out.

I sigh, spotting two glasses of beer on the table in front of my father, who lounges on one of the couches with a cigar in hand.

“It’s been a good year for skiing,” his gravelly voice rumbles as I sit on the couch opposite him.

“Yeah.” I avoid his gaze as I take a sip of the beer. I almost regurgitate it before quickly putting the glass back down.

A tense silence stretches between us, but I make no move to break it. He called me here, so I won’t waste my breath trying to direct this conversation. Finally, he speaks again.

“You have less than a month, Theron.” He looks at me, holding my gaze. The smoke from his cigar blows straight into my face.

“I’m aware, Father.”

“You can’t say I haven’t given you time. You’ve always had whatever you desired. I’ve never once questioned your decisions. But now people need to see you as their alpha.” He waits a beat before adding, “You need to make them respect you.”

My jaw clenches. I grit my teeth to hold back my frustration. “I’m having a drink with my friends. How would that make anyone disrespect me?”

His gaze flicks to the barely visible forest through the window. “It’s about optics, son. You’re not just Theron, a richman’s son in a big city. At Mammoth—and everywhere else from here on out—you represent the pack and the Blackwood brand.”

I bristle. “I’m well aware, Father. I’ve prepared for this for the past decade. No one can say I haven’t worked hard.”

A hint of a smile tugs at his lips. “I’m not questioning your preparedness or work ethic. But being a leader isn’t just about fighting enemies or increasing profits. The pack needs to believe that you can guide them through tough times.”

My fist clenches under the table and I swallow the retort forming on my tongue. There’s no point giving in to the frustration of being lectured so soon after returning home. “What are you suggesting?”

He remains silent for a moment, then places a surprisingly gentle hand on my knee. “Starting tomorrow, I’ve scheduled meetings for you with all the alphas within our alliance. I’m also setting up engagements with alphas we are on good terms with, but who haven’t signed treaties or work contracts with us.”

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