Page 1 of Alpha Wolf (Return To Fate Mountain #6)

Chapter

One

The roar of six Harley engines echoed off the mountains as wolf shifter Dominic Steel led his pack, Savage Steel MC, down the highway.

Late afternoon sunlight filtered through the pine trees, casting long shadows across the asphalt.

After eight hours on the road, his shoulders ached and his legs were stiff, but the scenery made up for it.

Rolling hills covered in evergreens stretched out before him, giving way to a valley where a small town nestled against the mountainside.

Dom’s radio crackled to life. “This is better than that outhouse in Nevada,” Hunter said in a gravelly voice. “At least this place has trees.”

“My backside is completely numb,” Blaze complained. “How much further?”

“Stop whining,” Siren cut in, her tone dry. “We’re almost there.”

Dom grinned. Five years they’d been riding together, and some things never changed. Blaze complained about the road, Hunter compared every place to somewhere worse, and Siren told them both to shut up.

Through his mirrors, he could see them spread out behind him in loose formation.

Siren rode his right wing, her black hair whipping in the wind beneath her helmet.

Axel held the left, steady and reliable.

Hunter and Blaze flanked the rear, with Ryder bringing up the tail.

He was the youngest of them, but eager to prove himself worthy of the pack.

Dom’s wolf stirred with satisfaction at having his people close, all of them heading toward what might finally be a permanent assignment. They’d been on the road too long, moving from one temporary job to another. It was time to build something lasting.

The intel on Fate Mountain had been clear.

There had been coordinated attacks on shifter businesses, sophisticated enough to overwhelm local law enforcement until the very end.

A brewery, an orchard, a wilderness academy.

All targeted systematically by corporate interests that saw shifter communities as obstacles to development.

It was the kind of threat that required a specialized response.

The highway opened onto Main Street as they entered Fate Mountain Village. Dom slowed his bike, leading the pack in single file past storefronts and cafes. People on the sidewalks turned to watch them pass. A few kids pointed excitedly at the motorcycles, their faces lighting up with wonder.

“Cute,” Siren’s voice crackled through the radio. “Very ‘Hallmark movie.’ Where’s the serial killer hiding?”

“Check out that diner,” Ryder chimed in. “Bet they make good pie.”

Dom took it all in as they cruised down Main Street at a leisurely pace. Fate Mountain Diner with its cheerful red awning. Sweet Summit Bakery with flower boxes in the windows. Families strolled the sidewalks, teenagers gathered around the town square, elderly residents chatted on benches.

It looked normal. Peaceful. Hard to believe this community had recently survived professional mercenaries running economic warfare operations.

Places that looked this normal were often the most vulnerable to sophisticated threats.

The kind of threats local police departments, no matter how competent, weren’t equipped to handle.

1019 Main Street turned out to be everything Dom had hoped for when he’d hired the local contractors to prepare it.

The two-story brick building sat on a corner lot.

A professional sign reading “Steel Protection” hung above the front entrance, and through the windows he could see the furnished office space waiting inside.

Dom pulled up to the curb and killed his engine. His pack followed suit, and six Harleys lined up in a neat row like chrome and steel sentinels.

“Well,” Dom said, pulling off his helmet and running a hand through his dark hair. “We’re home.”

“About damn time,” Blaze grumbled, dismounting from his bike with exaggerated groans.

Siren swung her leg over her bike with fluid grace, surveying the building with a critical eye. Hunter was already walking the perimeter. Axel had his phone out. Blaze was stretching dramatically, making sure everyone knew how tough the ride had been.

Dom fished the keys from his jacket pocket and opened the front door.

It opened into a spacious office area with desks, chairs, and filing cabinets arranged for maximum efficiency.

Everything they needed to run a professional security operation had already arrived.

Stairs at the back led to the second floor, where the contractors had set up individual apartments for each pack member.

Dom went upstairs and surveyed the living arrangements.

Six apartments, each with its own entrance off a central hallway.

He claimed the corner unit with windows facing two different streets.

The best tactical position and plenty of space for entertaining, if he ever decided to do that kind of thing.

Siren chose the apartment next to his. Axel disappeared into the unit closest to the office downstairs. Hunter selected the back apartment, while Blaze and Ryder took the remaining spaces.

“First time in years we won’t be living in each other’s pockets,” Dom said to himself, testing the lock on his door. Privacy. Personal space. The luxury of a home base instead of another temporary assignment.

It felt good.

Moving their gear from the mobile storage units parked on the sidewalk took the better part of two hours.

Dom worked alongside his pack, hauling equipment and personal belongings inside.

The physical labor felt good after hours on the road, and the familiar rhythm of coordinated work settled his wolf’s restless energy.

Axel handled the sensitive electronics with characteristic care, carefully transporting surveillance equipment and communication systems while muttering about humidity and dust. Hunter moved the tactical gear, every weapon and piece of equipment finding its designated place.

Blaze and Ryder bickered good-naturedly about proper lifting technique while hauling the heaviest boxes.

Siren managed the logistics, directing traffic and keeping everyone on task with the kind of ruthless organization that had made her invaluable as a military intelligence officer.

Dom supervised without micromanaging, letting each team member handle what they did best. It was how good teams functioned. Trust the expertise, coordinate the effort, get the job done right.

“This kitchen’s actually big enough for real cooking,” Blaze announced from the office common area. “No more takeout every damn night.”

“Don’t get domestic on us,” Ryder called from the office where he was setting up filing cabinets. “Next you’ll want curtains with little flowers.”

“I like flowers,” Hunter said mildly, which made everyone laugh. The idea of their stone-faced tracker caring about interior decoration was absurd enough to break the tension of a long day.

By evening, they were operational. Communication systems active, security measures in place, personal spaces claimed and organized. Everything they needed to serve this community properly.

Dom looked around the room at the five people who’d followed him into this strange life of protecting shifter communities.

Siren with her sharp wit and sharper instincts.

Axel with his quiet competence and technological expertise.

Hunter with his tactical awareness and hidden creative flair.

Blaze with his protective streak and secret domestic interests. Ryder with his youth and determination.

They were his family. Everything he did served them and the mission they’d chosen together.