The ancient bell annoyed him-- hardlines had awful sounds. He answered with a snarl. "Trace Keller speaking..."

"Alpha, there's signs of a trespasser in the territory, but no evidence of the wolf itself."

"You sure it's a wolf?"

"I smell a female in heat, then some drunk ass human male. It's messing up my senses."

"Fuck, I'll be out there as soon as I get out of my schedule."

Trace slammed down his landline--the consequences of a too-modest business empire. He had sentries call him by phone if it wasn't a dire emergency, as mental communication over this distance made him a nervous wreck.

He didn't need this at 35. For an Alpha, he was rather old to be single, without an heir. Easier to have a son taking care of border disputes while he ran the business, but ever since the Goddess gave him a woman like Jodi, he couldn't bring himself to believe in sons.

Maybe it was time to contract out for a child--surrogate the Alphaship. Anything but leave Timberhull to his Beta's boy. Andy was a solid second, but Drew was all the stereotypes of 2nd generation moron with no business in power.

If they didn't need their young, he'd be tempted to beat the boy senseless. He was overdue some serious life lessons.

Trace poked an old com button, decisively. "Layla, get in here."

In stepped his secretary--of sorts. The regular woman was on maternity leave--the pup was born healthy. One of the few things left from Jodi was a zealous care for all women, giving them time to adjust to motherhood. It made them a bit more modern a company.

Not that the com system showed that.

But it didn't stop him from becoming a typical single Alpha--as Layla displayed. Dressed in lingerie, a barely there jacket--there was nothing about this woman's apparel that's office approved, but he liked it. "You called, my Alpha?"

"I need to reschedule this afternoon. We've got an intruder."

She dipped her head, showing deference before speaking. "Do you want to reschedule our 2 o'clock?"

He shook his head. "I won't have time--its a possible contract. I may not be...available for a few weeks."

Layla nodded, thinking. "Well, then, I can...ah...meet your needs now, so you can make that decision calmly?"

He sighed as he unbuckled his slacks. By the time he exposed himself, she was comfortably between his knees, giving a firm demonstration on why she was his temporary secretary--and his regular 2 o'clock for going on three years. She made getting off...relaxing, impersonal. They had no real chemistry between them, but they were both damned good at the act itself, so they never missed out on interest.

Honestly, her practicality marked her as decent Luna material, but it would be a shame to tie her to a cursed Alpha, when she was still young enough to hope for a chosen.

The best part about these moments is that they both knew she could get him off quickly, but had mastered ways to make it last, so that when he finally came, all the muscles in his back had relaxed. He found his hand resting in her hair, gently raking it out the way of her eyes. "I am not looking forward to figuring out this wolf."

"But you're thinking surrogate?" She slipped back into speaking business so easily while she adjusted him back into his pants--no small feat. "They must be tracking a woman who is ready."

"They're not sure. But I've got the right and the need, and she'd be cared for. Most wolves know the law--not that I would force her. Although other Alphas around here might try."

"I've heard a few stories..."

"And I've called the Omega Council in on them a few times. They aren't stories."

...

Trace left as Layla began rescheduling. He drove his car back to the pack house--some damn flashy thing, he never cared for the sports cars that came with this pack, but they were his and he drove them for bragging rights.

The Alpha was out the car and striding behind the pack house before he stripped and shifted to run into the woods, scenting where his packmates damn near destroyed the very faint whiff of "fuck me" that some heats gave off. Though diluted, covered in the scent of a human, it was potent--a female of rank.

Trace's wolf, Cyclone, peeked forward then. He rarely came out since rejecting their mate years ago. The scent of the woman was ambrosia for the wolf. He howled out his claim, letting all of Timberhull know that they could capture, but not take her.

Responses from the trackers mostly showed where each was, as they weren't currently tailing the woman. Drew's--that is, Deebil's howl-- was a challenge of "come find her first", which meant the little prick was sure of her trail.

Cyclone tore through the underbush, making a straight line towards that brash bastard, snarling about how this boy would be put in his place, soon.

He nearly tripped over his front paws when the scent stopped him cold. Here was the freshest trail in the territory, and it left their lands for neutral ground. Cyclone was encouraged by the man's scent having faded while the woman's was nearly blinding.

A two minute run--he reached a clearing downwind of the female, so he crept in closer to watch his prey.

The wolf was slightly small, but not tiny. She was pouncing in a stream, snapping at little creatures and swallowing them whole. Not thoroughly disturbing as Cyclone would do the same in desperation, but the way she ate showed more that the female relished eating this rubbish. That spoke of uncivilized beings, at odds with the delicate and experienced moves that came from training. Cyclone chuffed slightly, the scent of her driving him crazy, but this interaction required negotiation, so he would give her a chance to run or he'd shift.

Out of the bushes, into the light, the leggy wolf strode. Upright, she looked even smaller.

She noticed him, tensed, but did not flee. Cyclone gave way to Trace, "Shift, little one."

The wolf rolled her eyes and shifted, alright: midst crouch, displaying things that most females would cover. Oh, not their breasts--that's just too much to hide. It was everything else while she had a crawdad sticking half out her mouth. She spat that, but otherwise stayed still. "Little, my ass. What'cha want, old man?"

"What else would an Alpha want from a runaway?"

"Oh, the old free baby routine. Uh...sure, I guess. Just as long as I can get to where I was going, yeah, I'll give babies for that." It was as if she didn't know that she was on display... until... "You want to pump me full of your seed right here and now or were you planning on not staring at my ladybits like a gossiping old granny?"

Trace refused to be embarrassed, but he did focus on her disheveled face. And was caught. "Oh, no."

Not again.

"Mate." She muttered, standing and striding towards him like she hadn't a care for that title. Mere inches from him, she leaned forward and breathed in deeply. "You don't smell excited to meet me. Am I interrupting a good time you've been having?"

"No..."

"But you've gotten off recently. I can still smell someone on your skin, but it's too faint to be distinctive. And I'm sure that you could smell my last partner all over your territory."

"I'm going to kill him." It was instinct--without her being his, he wouldn't have cared. Given time, he still wouldn't.

"Oh, so I have permission to kill any female you've been with? Sweet. I only prefer to kill those that cross me, though."

"I didn't mean that!" He mentally recoiled, struggling to keep stoic.

"Damn, chill, I've been taught wolf biology. Jeez. Anyway, I'll put up with your hairy ass to see if you'll do, and if not, I'm going to head back with my pack when the enforcer arrives and you can go on with your life of chasing women around your territory for shits and giggles."

Trace resisted the urge to check if his ass really was hairy--he knew it wasn't, but the woman naturally spoke with a hint of power, leaving him unsure of his butt's actual state. "Do you always speak to Alphas like this?"

"Oh, fuck me, I'm a Luna. I thought with this late shift I was destined for some lazy ass Omega. It figures the trade up is Old Spice. Jeez, I'll still be making babies when you break a hip."

"I'm only 35!"

She paused in her rant to squint at his dick, which was not erect and poking her waist. It should have been. "I'd have guessed 28, maybe 30, so you're well seasoned in that Old Spice. But then, your boys are hanging more like you're 80...so...did I really bag an Alpha?"

"Look, I might show you sometime, but right now this is awkward with other members eventually finding us, so let's go find some clothes."

"You still do some ceremonies in the nude?"

"Yeah..."

"Then I'm starting this the way I intend to go on."

She jumped in the creek, crouching down to coat her body in mud. The woman shifted her face enough to let out a howl not unlike his own, announcing her strength to the trackers, telling them their Luna had finally arrived.

Then she stood, gathered a small bag, and marched off in front of him like she knew his territory better than he did.

Trace was curious enough to let her have her way, just to see what his personal Albatross planned.