Fated To The Alpha, Stolen By His Brother

If someone had told Nova this morning that her afternoon would include sitting on a stranger’s lap in the Thunderfang clubhouse with an ice pack on her face, she would have asked what was in the drink.

It started when a man appeared in the locker room doorway and said, ”7709. With me. Now.”

Instinct took over. She gave a polite single nod, the automatic one that slaves give when asked to do something, and followed him on legs running on muscle memory and adrenaline.

When the slave tunnel exit came into view, her blood ran cold. One read from the scanner and her cuffs would register as tampered, which was an automatic kill switch.

She stared at the door, heart hammering, already trying to think of what she could say that wouldn’t come off as disrespectful. But that’s when she noticed the panel itself was not active. The sides were warped and the screen looked melted, actually. And the manual keypad, the backup method, was out and accessible.

That was either divine intervention or the bomber decided to have some mercy, she wasn’t sure.

The man was already through the door, waiting on the other side like he didn’t know what one of those things even was. Nova typed her alphanumeric code quickly. No screen confirmation of any kind. The only reason she knew it went through was the sound.

BEEP.

No kill switches or issues.

Her shoulders dropped two inches.

The second they stepped into the hall, every pair of eyes in the corridor ping-ponged between her and the man. All of them looking at the bleeding slave girl and the stranger escorting her like they were trying to decide if this was a scandal.

It hit her mid-stride. She had assumed he was involved with the Moonfire or with Alpha Starborne. But he hadn’t introduced himself. For all she knew, he could be another psychopath abductor.

Before she could spiral any further, the man hooked her around the waist, pulling her into an alcove, just as Kai Starborne rounded the corner. His fists were balled, his eyes were wolf-gold, and he stormed past them without turning his head.

BANG.

The slave tunnel door cracked open hard enough to bounce off the wall.

”WHERE THE FUCK IS 7709?”

The answer to that question was six feet to the right in an alcove that was about to be empty. Nova didn’t have time to panic because the man didn’t give her any.

He scooped her up and was moving. Her body folded immediately, adrenaline collapsing in a vacuum. This man felt safe even if that wasn’t logical.

The speed registered a moment later. Faces and walls blurred around them. Sound collapsed into wind. This was not regular wolf speed. If she wasn’t mistaken, this was Alpha speed, something she had only seen from a distance.

The man shouldered open a door and carried her into a clubhouse lounge where twenty or so people were.

”Who is that?” someone asked.

The man didn’t answer or stop moving.

”Astra, with me,” he called over his shoulder.

A woman stood from her chair and followed them into an empty back room without a single question leaving her mouth. The door closed behind all three of them.

He sat down on a leather armchair, which, Nova realized, put her in his lap. He probably hadn’t realized when he sat.

Her face heated immediately. But when she tried to get off of him, the man’s arms locked around her and he made a noise that she assumed translated to no.

The struggle lasted half a second before she gave up. There was no struggle, actually.

She should have been afraid. Every rule she’d ever learned said be afraid. A stranger. A closed room. A woman she didn’t know blocking the door. This was the architecture of every nightmare the slave tunnels traded in whispers after dark.

But her body was done. The adrenaline had burned out hours ago and what was left wasn’t courage or stupidity. It was math. Kai was on the other side of that door. Celeste was somewhere in this building. Four bombs were ticking in an arena she was supposed to walk into. And this room was quiet and his arms were steady and this was the easy button.

The woman grabbed something from the cabinet, then walked over and handed Nova an icepack.

”I’m Astra. Master Healer of Thunderfang. I don’t do handshakes, I don’t do hugs, and I don’t do bedside manner.”

The woman said Thunderfang. A minute ago, when the man was running, it had felt like Alpha speed. But there was zero chance the Alpha of Thunderfang had come to get her. Just her mind playing tricks.

”Do you have a name?” the woman asked. ”I told you mine.”

Nova blinked a few times. This woman was asking her name. A non-slave asking for her name was not common.

”Or is the number and puzzle-solving the whole personality?” the woman said.

Nova found her voice. ”N-nova.”

The man was silent behind Nova, both arms locked around her like he was afraid she might get up.

”Nova. Good. I’m glad your name isn’t that barcode. Otherwise I would have to come up with something.” The woman looked at Nova’s bruised cheek. Nova winced. ”This is fresh. So this is a consequence of outshining a princess and making an elder look like an absolute ass.”

Nova’s stomach flipped because hearing it out loud made it sound so much worse than it felt in the moment.

”That wasn’t my intent,” Nova managed. ”I was wrong to speak out of turn with that elder. And the princess has trained for many months.”

”And she’s modest too.”

She reached down and took Nova’s wrists. Turned them over. The rope burns from the masked bomber, the ones Kai had pointed out that morning, were still there.

Astra opened her mouth, but before any words came, a growl rumbled from under the man’s ribs, loud and unmistakable.

Nova inhaled sharply, the response automatic. The rumbling cut off abruptly like a flip of a switch.

The man didn’t react and Astra continued examining the rope burns on Nova’s wrists like nothing had happened. The lack of reaction almost made Nova wonder if she had imagined it.