Page 9 of Forced By the Alpha

“I was just looking for my mate. Have you seen him?” I asked with a sigh. I wasn’t above playing the damsel in distress if the situation called for it.

“Alpha Franco comes and goes as he pleases,” the other guard answered hesitantly. “It isn’t our business to question his whereabouts.”

“Of course,” I said, widening my eyes to display my innocence. “It’s just that he didn’t leave any food in the cabin, and I just wasn’t sure where I should go…”

“Just head back to the cabins,” Franco’s beta said, more kindly this time. “There’s a mess hall where you can get anything you want. Ask for Clara, she’ll help you.”

I noticed the twinkle in his eye as he spoke the female’s name.

“Is Clara your mate?” I asked.

His cheeks reddened immediately, and I knew my suspicion was correct.

“Ha! He wishes,” the other guard said with a laugh.

“No,” the beta answered. “But maybe someday.”

“I’m sure everything will work out the way it’s supposed to,” I said kindly. “What was your name again?”

“Dylan,” he replied. “Dylan Torres.”

“Thank you, Dylan.” I smiled at him kindly and turned around to head in the direction of the cabins. Maybe I could play matchmaker for him. There were fewer better targets than the beta if I was looking to get in someone’s good graces.

Back at the cabins, I easily located the dining hall and walked inside. There were plenty of people milling about eating, drinking coffee, playing board games, and relaxing together. Everyone was in a good mood today, which was a stark contrast to the last time I had seen them.

It only took a moment before I saw a woman in her early twenties who could only be Clara. Her short blond hair was covered in a baseball cap as she bustled around in the kitchen, clearly in her element. I walked up to the kitchen counter just as she placed down a pan of cinnamon rolls.

“Help yourself,” she said kindly to me. “They’re fresh from the oven.”

“They smell delicious,” I told her.

In my haste to find an escape, I hadn’t thought much about food, but now that I was faced with a full pan of gooey, frosting-covered rolls, I could hardly think of anything else.

She passed me a plate and a fork, nodding at me to grab one before turning around to get a mug of coffee for me as well.

“Oh my god,” I moaned as I took a bite. “These are heaven.”

“I’m glad you like them. You’re the alpha’s mate, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. Are you Clara?”

“The one and only,” she said with a smile.

“Beta Dylan said I’d find you here,” I explained. “I was out wandering around looking for food, and he took pity on me.”

“I’m glad you found your way,” Clara said with genuine warmth. “Most of us spend a lot of our time here when we aren’t working. Feel free to hang out as long as you like.”

I thanked her and took my plate and cup to find a place to sit. The “mess hall” was more like a combination of a dining room and a living area. I was reminded of a sleepaway summer camp I had attended as a child.

There were no formal dining areas, only folding tables and chairs scattered throughout the room, punctuated with informal seating around the edges. A few well-worn couches flanked an empty fireplace, a circle of office chairs presided over one corner of the room, and a pile of beanbags sat empty in another. Makeshift bookshelves had been constructed out of two-by-fours and cement blocks, on which sat an assortment of reading materials and games. Clearly, entertainment was acommunal resource in the pack, and none of the furniture had been chosen for looks or function—only availability.

At first, the room seemed dirty and unkempt, but the longer I looked at it, the more I realized that the pack took pride in their belongings. They may not have much, but what they did have, they took care of.

And I didn’t have to sit alone for long. Clara was the first to come and talk to me, and when she had to go back to work, a few others took her place. I didn’t have anywhere else to be, so I stayed in the hall while a trickle of pack members made my acquaintance. They were far more accommodating than at our first introduction, and while I wanted to believe it was genuine, I knew that they couldn’t be trusted.

After a few hours, my suspicions were solidified. With each passing hour, I could feel everyone grow more restless and agitated. The once-peaceful game of chess at the table across from me turned into an argument, and a couple began bickering near the fireplace.

“What is happening?” I muttered to myself.

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