Chapter 0344

"I never aspired to be Beta. That rank belonged to my brother by right. But fate played its cruel joke—I outpaced him in strength and speed, breeding resentment in his heart. He grew paranoid, convinced I'd steal his place in the pack hierarchy. The constant tension became unbearable. When he fabricated lies about my ambitions and presented them to our new Alpha, I was given an ultimatum: challenge him for the rank or exile myself. I chose exile."

Donovan's shoulders lift in a nonchalant shrug. "The title meant nothing to me."

—

"And now you seek to be Alpha?" I arch a brow. Leading a pack demands far more than Beta responsibilities ever could.

"I want this pack to flourish." His gaze burns with conviction. "No offense, Beta, but a leader without a wolf can't truly command respect. Too many lives depend on this pack's survival. Too many would suffer if it falls. Not every contender deserves the Alpha title—so I stepped forward."

"Compassion for your pack is a rare trait in a ranked warrior." I nod approvingly. "You possess the makings of a true Alpha."

"Appreciate that." He dips his chin as we reach the packhouse's rear entrance.

We deposit the game carcasses by the door. Inside, the aroma of herbs and roasting meat makes my stomach growl in unison with Leopold and Donovan.

"Isolde!" I call into the bustling kitchen.

She emerges from behind a counter, sleeves rolled up, chestnut curls escaping her messy bun. A streak of flour decorates her cheek. The sight ignites a primal urge to claim her. In three strides, I haul her against me.

She wrinkles her nose. "Ugh, you reek of blood and sweat. Successful hunt?"

"You smell like laundry detergent and disinfectant. Fair trade." I nip her bottom lip.

"Three bucks, six rabbits, four turkeys," Leopold announces proudly.

Her eyes spark like struck flint. Clapping once, she silences the kitchen.

"Who knows how to dress a deer?" Five hands shoot up. "You five—deer duty." She pivots to Leopold. "Where's the processing area?"

"I'll show them." He gestures for the group to follow.

"Rabbit and turkey butchers?" More volunteers emerge.

An omega named Nathaniel steps forward. "I can lead the small game prep, Luna."

"Excellent. Take whatever tools you need. Bring the meat back here for storage—and save the turkey carcasses. Rosalind wants to make soup."

A chorus of "Yes, Luna" echoes as they scatter.

Then those storm-gray eyes lock onto me. "You." Her finger jabs my chest. My grin falters.

"And you." She points at Donovan. "Name?"

"Donovan, Luna." His lips twitch at her commanding presence.

"Donovan, you and Victor are banished from my kitchen until you shower. Now. Dinner in ninety minutes—spread the word."

"Yes, Luna." He flashes a grin before retreating.

I catch Isolde's wrist, spinning her into my arms. "Watching you command this chaos?" My growl vibrates against her throat. "Fucking intoxicating."

Her arousal perfumes the air as she grinds against me. Over her shoulder, she tosses a smoldering look. "Show me how much you love it tonight... Alpha."

A predatory rumble shakes my ribs. "Count on it, little mate."

Donovan waits by the staircase, admiration glinting in his eyes. "She's born to lead."

"That she is."