Page 1 of Alpha's Twins
Prologue - Aiden
From high on the ridge, I can almost see the edges of my pack’s borders—on a clear day, that is. Not today, with the undulating clouds covering the mountain peaks and cascading down into the valleys, coating everything in a hazy, thick white soup.
Pausing by the old lookout, I shift back to my human form and grab one of the spare sets of clothes my pack keeps out here, along with an energy bar from one of the all-weather containers. Shrugging the T-shirt over my head, I return to my spot on the edge of the ridge, barely sparing the sheer drop below a glance.
The cold wind whips across my bare arms, sending goosebumps down my spine, but it doesn’t compare to the icy grip that has taken up residence in my stomach. I tear open the energy bar and chew mechanically, tasting nothing as I scan the mountains and caves opposite.
I watch some birds flit along the mountain’s jagged sides. The caves themselves are completely inaccessible, even to wolves. But not to Malik if he were in his dragon form. The air here tastes of snow and pine, clean and sharp. The jagged peaks stretch out into the distance, with the edges of Callum’s forest to one side and the descent towards Tristen’s pack in the opposite direction. Overhead, the sky is an endless canvas of grays and whites today, slowly fading as evening approaches.
I pull my gaze back to the caves, searching for any sign of movement. It's been many weeks since we last saw Malik. The fight was brutal and definitive as far as his small rogue army was concerned. All but wiped out. But could he have survived?
If he did, his dragon would surely have been seen again by now, but still…my stomach churns at the thought that he might be on my territory. That my pack may be harboring the island’s biggest threat.
Chewing on the tasteless but filling energy bar, I close my eyes and lean back against the rocky outcrop. The chill seeps through my shirt, reminding me of how alone I am here since I sent the rest of the patrol further on to cover the southern ridges.
My brothers think I'm weak because I can't find him, that I'm incapable of protecting my pack. They ask for updates every time we speak, their eyes boring into mine like they're daring me to lie.
I can feel them judging me with every passing day. It’s like they think they would have found him by now if it were their territory. That I'm not as worthy an alpha because I’m the youngest brother, not as experienced or wise, and not having had enough time to learn under Ralph—not that he was much of a teacher. The more we’ve pieced together about Malik and his brother, Emily’s father. It seems Ralph knew Malik could still be a threat, but thought he was powerful enough to contain him because Malik was weak after his brother nearly destroyed him in their final battle. He never bothered to take him out years ago when he could, and just assumed he was another outcast. Malik saw his opportunity when the island was split and the rogues wanted their pound of flesh. He must have been laughing at us, thinking we were too weak to fight back once his rogue army started to grow. And Ralph? He didn’t care enough to even warn us of the danger lurking in the mountains. But then, that’s not much of a surprise.
My brothers liked to play protectors back then, shielding me from the worst of our father’s behavior. It’s not that I don’tappreciate what they did, but ever since the island was split, with us each taking our places as alphas of our own packs, I feel like they’ve forgotten that I’m not their responsibility anymore. The situation with Malik only increased their micromanagement of my affairs. I love my brothers, but my wolf is dangerously close to snapping at them.
They’re even pissing me off about this offer from Nolan. The rogues grew in numbers due to mercenaries arriving from the mainland, which exposed a general weakness in our sea borders. We don’t normally work with other packs, but Nolan has become an ally, and now he’s offering us an alliance to stop future mercenaries from coming over via the shipping routes. It’s a good deal for the island—a good deal for all our packs. And beyond some financial and trade conditions, the only sticking point is that Nolan wants a traditional mate pact. He’s offering one of his female shifters as a mate, and I’m the only available alpha. It seems a bit backward and old-fashioned to me, but I’m not one to judge.
I agreed almost straight away. It’s Callum and Tristen who are far more worked up about it. They don’t get it—I have no intention of being held to some romantic standard of love that they’ve found with Ava and Emily. As happy for them as I am, this is purely a business deal. Hopefully, whoever Nolan has in mind is pretty enough to fuck occasionally, but sensible enough to know this isn’t anything other than a necessary arrangement. Once agreements become longstanding between our packs, we can quietly go our separate ways, anyway. It’s just not a big deal.
They seem to think I’m trading my soul for a lifelong romantic partner. They don’t dispute the benefits of an alliance with the mainland, but their need to endlessly discuss whether or not I should accept a mate is grating. Just because they’vefound love doesn’t mean we’re all going to, or even want to. I don’t think the apple fell far from the tree, where I’m concerned—Ralph was a cheating bastard who could never settle.
I don’t intend to break hearts by pretending otherwise. I’ll be honest with whatever female Nolan sends over. It’s business, that’s all.
The wind whips up again, and in the distance, I hear my betas howl, signaling they’ve reached the other peaks. They clearly haven’t discovered anything new, or they would have raised the alarm by now. I let out a sigh of frustration. Shaking my head, I finish the last of the energy bar. I know I should be grateful that things have returned to some sort of normalcy since we destroyed Malik’s rogue army and injured, if not killed, him. But the scars of his attacks remain.
Throwing the caves one last assessing look, I growl in frustration as I shrug out of the T-shirt, let my wolf take over, and let the shift begin. Howling to my pack, I turn my back on the mountains and all the answers I don’t yet have. As I pause on the trail, I hear my betas approaching. Their frustration courses through our pack bond, and I know these nightly patrols are taking their toll on everyone. Few realize the strain I’m under better than my beta Jace; he’s my right-hand man, and the wolf closest to me next to my own brothers. Hell, I almost consider him a brother; he’s saved my life almost as many times as I’ve saved his, we’ve fought side by side, and shared pretty much everything. Women included.
As Jace falls in step beside me, I glance over and give him a nod. His eyes glow with unrestrained energy that needs burning, and I’m sure my own are just the same. As we sprint toward the town, I try to shake off lingering thoughts of Malik, my brothers, and Nolan—including his stupid idea of trading alliances for marriage.
I don’t care who he’s got lined up. All I care about is who Jace and I will find to fuck in the bar on the edge of town that attracts late-night visitors from across the island. Everyone there knows the score: to have fun. And that is exactly what I intend to do.
Chapter 1 - Serena
I gasp as one of the spiked vines suddenly springs forward and cuts my finger. I knew it was going to grow; I could almost see it trembling in anticipation. I just didn’t expect it to burst to life quite so quickly with my finger in the way.
The flower at the center of the vine retreats, petals folding inward almost in shame. I sigh and run my other hand along the nearest leaf, almost conspiratorially, until the flowers begin to bloom again and the vine coils higher this time—crucially, taking its razor-sharp spikes away from my fingers.
I look up to where the vine has already reached the ceiling and watch as it blooms into a cascade of flowers that shoot across the cramped space, intermingling with all the other high-reaching blooms in the shop. Satisfied that another of my plants has reached its potential, I give it a celebratory spritz from my watering can and shuffle the base of its pot back an inch in the already overcrowded space.
I step back, admiring my handiwork as the flowers dance and jostle for space around me. My little shop is alive with its color and fragrance. It’s a constant and stark reminder of the contrast to the cold isolation that surrounds me in my pack. Here, though, I can pretend none of that matters. This is where I belong—in and amongst the flowers that seem to understand me better than any other wolf.
I take a deep breath, the scent of fresh soil and blossoms filling my senses. My fingers trace the delicate petals of a peach-colored rosebud that has just begun to unfurl its velvety leaves. It seems to sense my touch, pulsing gently against my skin, beckoning me closer. A smile tugs at my lips as I lean in to inhaleits sweet perfume, and the leaves open in my hand, tickling my fingers.
For so long, I wanted to be like the others. I wanted a wolf that could shift, hunt, and run like the others. Maybe then, I would look athletic and tall, like the other women in the pack, rather than being so curvy. Perhaps then, I would have been accepted instead of growing up on the periphery of the pack like an unwanted guest, even in my uncle’s home, where I was raised after my parents died.
But as I grew and began to discover my abilities with plants, I found something that was just for me. As the pain of being ignored by the pack began to lessen, I realized that I couldn’t make them want me, but I could still build my own future right here. That isn’t to say their constant veiled sneers and disregard still don’t sting, but when I’m here working in my store, Serena’s Floral Fantasy, I can forget all that. Besides, since becoming a hit across the mainland, my blooms and designs generate significant revenue for the pack through producers, delivery contracts, and events, not to mention all the tourists who come to visit the store but also stay to explore the rest of the town.
It’s not the same as being respected as a shifter within the pack, but my store at least allows me some peace. And probably most importantly, some dignity. The people who flock here from across the mainland and order months in advance online for large events don’t care that I can’t shift or have no status in my pack. They don’t care about the fact that I grew up an unwanted burden to my uncle, an outcast at school, or picked on because of my weight. They just love my plants and flowers.
I’m not even sure where my ability to make flowers bloom or plants grow beyond expectation comes from. My uncle doesn’t talk about my parents much, but I get the sense heblames my mother. It seems she didn’t have a wolf either, and my father, his brother, lost a lot of status being with her. But magic was never discussed; he would often dismiss my gift as some kind of latent witchcraft within my mother’s bloodline. Clearly not wanting it to be seen to taint his own. The local witches came to see me when I was just a pup and didn’t entirely agree. It’s magic, but not connected to spells or any of their other methods. It’s more innate.
Most in my pack see it as some kind of cute consolation prize. I can’t shift; none of the men in the pack would look twice at me due to my family background, lack of a wolf, and curves…but at least I can arrange pretty flowers. I’m inclined to agree with them most of the time. Sometimes, though, I feel something so much greater behind my connection with the plants, something untapped and thrumming beneath the surface. Perhaps I’m imagining it or hoping for too much. The desire to be something other than what I am—a disappointment. But on days like today, with the vibrations of my plants undeniably strong, I feel like I could conquer the world.
