When My Alpha Let His Mistress Rule Our Pack

The morning sun beat down on the Obsidian Pack’s training grounds, but the heat couldn't thaw the ice in my veins. Word of Alpha Finn’s arrival had spread like wildfire, drawing a crowd of warriors and curious pack members to the edge of the sparring ring.

Finn stood in the center, stripping off his suit jacket to reveal a black t-shirt that strained against muscles honed in the brutal Northern territories. He looked like a god of war compared to Bradley, who was currently being fussed over by Kelly on the sidelines.

"Brad, you don't have to do this," Kelly whined, her voice carrying over the murmurs of the crowd. She dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief. "You've been so stressed lately. Your energy is low."

Finn rolled his shoulders, a dark chuckle escaping his lips. "If an Alpha is too 'stressed' to defend his honor, perhaps he shouldn't be an Alpha."

The challenge hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Bradley’s face flushed a deep crimson. His ego, fragile as it was, wouldn't let him back down in front of his own warriors. He pushed Kelly aside, a little too roughly, and stepped into the ring.

"I'm fine," Bradley snapped, though his eyes darted nervously to Finn’s relaxed stance. "Let's get this over with."

It wasn't a fight. It was an execution.

Bradley lunged, sloppy and emotional, relying on brute force. Finn didn't even shift his feet. He simply sidestepped, catching Bradley’s wrist and using his own momentum to send him crashing into the dirt. Dust billowed up, coating Bradley’s expensive slacks.

A collective wince rippled through the onlookers. My husband, their leader, scrambled up, growling in frustration. He swung again. Finn ducked, weaving through Bradley’s attacks with the grace of a phantom. Then, with a speed that blurred the eye, Finn swept Bradley’s legs out from under him and pinned him to the earth, his forearm pressing against Bradley’s throat.

The silence was deafening. Bradley gasped for air, his limbs flailing uselessly against Finn’s iron grip. Finn leaned down, his lips brushing Bradley’s ear. I was the only one close enough to hear the whisper, sharp as a blade.

"You don't deserve her."

Finn released him and stood up, extending a hand with a fake, polite smile. "Good warm-up, Alpha Stone. You're a bit... rusty."

Bradley slapped the hand away, scrambling to his feet, humiliated. I watched the faces of the Obsidian warriors. There was no anger on their Alpha’s behalf—only second-hand embarrassment. The respect was crumbling, stone by stone.

***

By evening, the atmosphere had shifted from physical violence to political warfare. The Regional Gathering of Alphas was a mandatory event, hosted this rotation by Obsidian. The grand hall was filled with the most powerful wolves in the state, the air thick with the scent of pine, rain, and power.

I didn't wait for Bradley. I descended the staircase in a gown of deep, midnight blue—the color of the Moonstone Pack’s banner. At the bottom of the stairs, Finn waited. He wore a tuxedo that fit him like a second skin. When I reached him, he didn't grab me; he offered his arm, palm up, a silent question.

I took it. The warmth of his skin seeped into mine, grounding me.

We entered the hall together. Heads turned. Whispers ignited. Bradley, who had been laughing with the Alpha of the River Pack, froze. He started toward us, his eyes narrowing on Finn’s arm linked with mine.

"Daleyza," Bradley warned, his voice tight. "You are my Luna. You stand with me."

Finn stepped smoothly between us, his height forcing Bradley to look up. "She is a Morgan of the Moonstone Pack tonight, Bradley. And she is under my protection."

Before Bradley could cause a scene, I steered Finn toward the buffet, right into the circle of visiting Alphas. I smiled, the picture of grace, while I sharpened my knives.

"Alpha Miller," I greeted the leader of the Western territories. "How are your border disputes coming along?"

"Manageable," Miller grunted, eyeing me curiously. "And yours? I heard Obsidian invested heavily in those new perimeter sensors."

I took a sip of champagne, letting the silence stretch just long enough to be uncomfortable. "Oh, the sensors were a Moonstone investment," I said lightly, my voice carrying. "But with the... restructuring of our alliance, maintenance might be difficult for Bradley to afford on his own. I suppose the rogues will notice the gaps in the grid soon enough."

The predatory gleam in Miller’s eyes was unmistakable. Beside him, two other Alphas exchanged knowing looks. I had just rung the dinner bell. Obsidian was weak, and now, everyone knew it.

***

The final blow didn't happen in a ballroom or a fighting ring. It happened in the cold quiet of my office.

I sat behind the mahogany desk, the phone pressed to my ear. "Yes, immediate effect. Freeze the transfer for the infrastructure project. And recall the Morgan battalion stationed at the southern ridge. Tonight."

I hung up just as the door burst open. Bradley stood there, chest heaving, his face pale with panic.

"Are you insane?" he shouted, slamming a piece of paper onto my desk. It was the withdrawal notice from the bank. "You froze the accounts! The border guards are packing up! You're leaving us defenseless against the rogues!"

I looked at him, feeling absolutely nothing. The man who had given my wolf’s name to a dog now wanted my protection.

"I am a Luna, Bradley," I said, my voice steady. "My duty is to protect my pack. But you made it very clear that your priority is Kelly."

I stood up, smoothing the front of my dress. "I am returning the Morgan resources to where they belong. If you need money for security, ask Kelly’s father. I’m sure a Beta who steals from the pack has plenty stashed away."

"He doesn't have that kind of money!" Bradley yelled, desperation cracking his voice. "Daleyza, please!"

"Then you better hope the rogues aren't hungry," I said, walking past him to the door where Finn was waiting. "Because the Moonstone Pack is closed for business."