Page 1 of Fated to the Enemy Alpha

Chapter 1

Lina

A wry smile crossed my face as I approached the pub, “Howl at the Moon.” Its neon sign flickered, casting a glow on the damp pavement of downtown New York. The dive was tucked between two towering brick buildings as if the city were trying to swallow it.

Perfect.

With the wolf-and-moon design, no self-respecting shifter would set foot inside. Exactly why I chose it. Walking in, I inhaled deeply, the aroma of stale beer and liquor wrapping around me. A couple of doors down, a rundown motel room waited, a temporary refuge from the life I was escaping.

A handful of barflies sat at the counter, their silhouettes and features blending into the dimly lit space as they nursed their drinks: my new pack for the hour. In this part of the city, I was safe from being recognized.

“What’ll it be, sweetheart?” the bartender, sporting a thick beard and enough eyeliner to give him a Johnny Depp vibe, asked.

I perched on one of the rickety stools. “Whiskey.”

He poured three fingers of amber liquid. I downed it in one, grimacing as the burn raced down my throat, offering only temporary relief. My thoughts spiraled, pondering how quickly the news of my impending mate ceremony had spread among the shifter elite. Did they gossip about me, delighting in my fate?

“Another,” I requested, my voice cutting through my internal chaos.

My mother’s shrill shout still rang in my ears, “Lina deserves better.” But my father’s stern command had followed: “In a week’s time, Lina will do her duty.” Our villa had resounded with silence, my mother unable to oppose him. It was over; it was decided. Soon, I would become the luna of the Blackthorn Pack.

Anger simmered. I knew the arranged bond was a maneuver to forge a business alliance to solve our pack’s financial crisis. But what killed me was that I could have offered a solution if my father had only sought my advice months ago instead of offering me up as the solution.

One week of freedom left.

“Hit me,” I told the bartender, taking another shot. My anger mingled with the alcohol, warming my veins. I closed my eyes, savoring the tingling numbness. My shifter constitution allowed me to drink more than the average human.

Magnus Blackthorn—alpha of the Blackthorn Pack, a man twice my age—invaded my thoughts. He was my father’s best friend, a relationship forged in years of business meetings. Silvermoon Corporation had had links with Magnus for years. As such, interning at my father’s company and attending board meetings the last few summers—I’d met Magnus plenty of times, but I’d never imagined a mate bond with him.

As the haze of alcohol settled, a hollow sense of desperation engulfed me. I had no say—no escape—unless I discovered my fated mate. In the world of shifters, a fated mate was a sacred bond, often revered above all else. It was believed that those destined for each other possessed an unbreakable connection. Mates would always protect one another no matter the circumstances, and society would honor their union. Finding my fated mate would offer me an escape from my predicament, a chance to break free from my father’s orders and the arranged mate bond to Magnus. I had always believed that I’d find that bond. Instead, it was a week before my arranged mate ceremony, and here I was, sitting in this dive bar, getting trashed.

I couldn’t help but snort at the thought. I turned to the bartender, my liquor-loosened tongue quipped, “I need to find my white knight.”

“You and me both, Princess,” he replied, topping off my glass.

Downing it, I felt the weight of the world lift momentarily. I had always believed that I’d find my fated mate. I’d had a handful of boyfriends, both shifter and human, who had been disappointments. At twenty-one, I should know better; fairy tales didn’t happen. Yet, deep down, that dream lingered.

The bartender seemed to get that I was seeking oblivion and was already poised to pour another. I shook my head, the mixture of rage and powerlessness urging me to step outside to feel the night air on my skin.

“Can I bum a smoke?” I asked, surprising even myself. I never smoked, but I’d never drank this much, either. Although I could handle it better than your average human, it had definitely started to befuddle my senses. I needed fresh air.

A sudden burst of raucous laughter from the only occupied table stole the bartender’s attention for a moment. “Sure, but you’ll need to settle your tab before stepping out.”

After I’d paid, I stepped outside with my lit cigarette. The fresh chill of fall caressed my cheek. I had barely taken two drags when the pub door swung open, the rowdy guys swaggering out onto the street.

“What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?” one of them slurred as he shuffled closer, his gait unsteady.

Their predatory gazes set every instinct in my body on high alert.

“You looking for some fun, Princess?” another one asked as he drew closer, his breath reeking of stale beer.

They’d been listening to my conversation with the bartender. Perhaps I hadn’t blended in as seamlessly as I thought. These humans didn’t have a clue how much like royalty I was. As the daughter of the Silvermoon pack alpha, amidst shifter kind, I was often in the limelight, but being reminded of that was the last thing I wanted. It was my position that forced me to sacrifice my freedom to Magnus Blackthorn. Fury pulsed through me.

“I’m not a princess,” I shot back, the words tumbling off my tongue and cautiousness set to nil thanks to the liquor. “I’m a…wolf.”

The nearest man blinked, confusion giving way to a smirk. “Oh, ‘Howl at the Moon.’ Cute. So, you think you’re the big bad wolf, do you?”

He crowded into my space, stepping closer on the cracked sidewalk. The stench of cheap beer and sweat filled my nostrils, making my stomach churn. “You think you can take us?”

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