Page 1 of Bully Alpha’s Pregnant Mate (Starfire Hollow Alphas #2)

They call it the “Alpha’s Trial.”

Quincey’s the one who tells me, and as he does, his mouth twitches the way it does when he’s got something up his sleeve. My cousin’s usually pretty steady. He’s my right hand now as beta, the one who covers my blind spots and watches my back. But today, he’s looking at me with a glint in his eye that feels one part respect, one part pity.

I don’t need pity. I’m the alpha now.

His voice drops a notch, just low enough that I have to strain to hear him over the wind sweeping across the ridge. “You ready for this, Alpha?”

I feel that title like a solid rock in my chest. Alpha. It still feels strange and maybe a little surreal. Only two days since the official pack ceremony, and I’m still adjusting to the reality of it, feeling out the borders of my new responsibility.

It isn’t like becoming alpha of Starfire Hollow, my birth pack. Though, that was never a possibility. Damien and his family have run that role for years. Growing up in Starfire Hollow was my norm, but my summers were different. My uncle married a she-wolf from East Hills, and my father thought it would be good for me to learn their ways, to experience life in a different pack. So, most summers, I spent my days here, learning the traditions and habits of East Hills. Still, it’s different here. Here, I’m not just an alpha—I’m an outsider. Their first alpha who wasn’t born and raised in East Hills.

We’ve been telling people it’s because most of their capable shifters who were ready for the responsibilities were killed by that demon a while back, which is true. Quincey and the others who remain just don’t have the edge it takes. But the whole truth is a little more complicated than that.

At the end of the day, they didn’t choose me. I was handed to them in the name of an alliance, a move to mend old wounds and fortify borders between the neighboring packs. And I suspect not everyone is thrilled about it.

“I’m ready,” I declare.

“Good.” Quincey reaches out, clapping a hand on my shoulder hard enough to jar me a bit. “Because there’s a tradition you’re going to have to uphold. And it’s… not negotiable.”

I’ve spent enough time with my East Hills cousins to know the importance they put on traditions. Pack bonds run deeper than blood here; it’s about strength, loyalty, survival. Their customs are stitched into the very bones of this place—long-standing rituals meant to bind the pack together, make them something no threat could tear apart. I’m only starting to understand it all, but I can see the benefits of traditions that forge trust and discipline as naturally as breathing, of customs that turn members into family.

But now, I’m about to be a part of that foundation.

“Go on, then,” I prompt him, crossing my arms over my broad chest.

Quincey doesn’t hold back. “You need to take a mate. And soon.”

A mate. Right. East Hills has been known for this arranged-mate tradition; their alpha doesn’t just lead. He’s expected to root himself here, proving his commitment through blood and bond. It’s like signing a contract with the very ground, binding myself to this pack in the most permanent way possible.

I nod, though I’m careful to keep my face impassive. How I may or may not feel about this is irrelevant.

“Specifically, you’re required to marry someone from within the pack,” Quincey continues, his eyes studying me for any flicker of a reaction. “The few remaining elders believe it shows loyalty. Stability. That we’re united here, and you’re fully part of us now. A true East Hills alpha.”

The reminder of the elders’ losses hits hard, even for someone like Quincey, who rarely shows emotion. The scars left by the demons run deep here, marking us all in some way. The surviving elders have barely had time to recover, yet they’re clinging to tradition as fiercely as they cling to their lives.

And I get it. To them, this isn’t just about ceremony. It’s about survival.

I’ve known about the East Hills pack traditions for years. I didn’t expect to escape them. But this? It’s a different kind of obligation, one that goes beyond fighting for the pack or protecting them from rogues. This is a demand for permanence, a way to link my life to theirs, whether I like it or not.

Kai comes into view just as Quincey falls silent. She’s got the same serious look in her eyes as Quincey, though there’s something else there, too—maybe approval, maybe challenge.

Kai is Quincey’s sister and one of the most ferocious fighters East Hills has. I’ve seen her put down rogues twice her size without breaking a sweat. There’s not an ounce of uncertainty in her as she saunters over to us.

“So, he told you?” she asks me, her voice a little too smug.

“Apparently, you all decided this was the best way to welcome me,” I reply dryly.

She rolls her eyes. “It’s an honor, Alec. They wouldn’t ask this if they didn’t believe you were the right one to lead.”

Quincey snorts. “‘Honor’ isn’t exactly the word I’d use.”

Kai shrugs, glancing between us before her eyes land on me. “Look, we’ve had strong alphas, but never one from outside the pack’s direct bloodline. They’re looking for assurance that you’re fully committed to East Hills, that you’re as much one of us as any other alpha before you.”

In the clearing below, the pack is sparring, honing their reflexes and instincts against one another. It’s as much ritual as training, a show of strength and readiness. A few of the pack members look my way, cautious and assessing. I can feel the weight of their expectations on me as clearly as I can feel the damp chill in the air. They’re waiting to see if I can fill this role, this responsibility, in a way that reassures them I’m here for the long haul.

I understand it. Power isn’t just given; it has to be proven. And right now, I’m an alpha with everything to prove.

“The elders aren’t backing down on this, Alec,” Quincey tells me. “They want this arrangement made quickly. No delays, no hedging. It shows you’re committed to East Hills, not Starfire Hollow.”

Commitment. That’s the core of it, isn’t it? They want a leader who won’t hesitate to sacrifice himself if it means keeping them safe. They want to know I’m as loyal to them as they’ll be to me.

Blood might be thick, but duty, loyalty—that’s what binds a pack to its alpha. And right now, my duty is clear.

I’m silent for a long moment, letting Quincey and Kai’s words roll over me, sinking in like heavy stones. My mind turns over the tradition, the expectation they’re setting on me. An arranged mate. It’s not what I pictured for my life, but as I stare out over the land, watching my new pack—my people—sparring, training, laughing, it’s impossible to ignore the sense of rightness settling in my bones. This is where I belong now.

“So, what’s your take on this?” Kai asks, giving me that narrow-eyed look I know all too well. It’s the look she gives when she’s probing for the real truth, reading beyond what people are willing to say out loud.

I consider my answer, knowing full well they’re both watching for any flicker or slip that would betray a crack in my resolve.

“Honestly?” I finally say, my voice low. “It’s… different. But I know the pack needs this. The elders may be few now, but they’re putting their faith in me. I owe it to them to do whatever’s necessary. If that means marrying by tradition, then so be it.”

Quincey’s mouth twitches again. “So that’s it? No objections? No hesitation?”

“I don’t see the point in fighting something that only benefits the pack. Besides…” I let out a slow breath, debating whether to let them in on the truth. The part I’ve never told anyone. Not even my best friend Damien, or Quincey.

There’s a part of me that still believes in that ridiculous, half-buried idea that somewhere out there, there’s someone meant for me. A mate I might love, the way Damien and my sister found theirs. I watched them fall, both feet and heart first. That bond, rooted in something deep and intangible, has been my own quiet hope for years.

But right now, it sounds like a fantasy, some old idea I need to set aside. I have a responsibility to my pack. To protect them from threats, like the ones that wiped out our elders, and if that means giving up the hope of marrying for love… maybe it’s not as hard as I thought.

“You’re sure about this, Alec?” Kai presses, leaning in a little. “Because once they announce it, there’s no going back. The pack doesn’t take broken promises lightly.”

“I know what I’m getting into, Kai,” I reply. “And I’m not the type to take on a commitment I can’t keep. I want them to know they can count on me. That no one—not a single demon or rogue—will ever lay a finger on this territory without going through me first.”

Quincey lets out a low chuckle. “Spoken like a true alpha.”

“Look, I get it,” I say. “This isn’t the easiest road. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that bonds don’t always come prepackaged and perfect. Sometimes they’re forged in duty, not just choice. And who knows?” I shrug, trying to ease the tension in the air. “Maybe I’ll end up with someone I can grow to care about. Someone who’ll surprise me.”

Kai snorts, clearly unimpressed with my optimism. “So that’s what you’re banking on? A maybe?”

I let out a laugh, low and a little bitter because I know what she’s getting at. “When you’ve lived my life, you learn to live with a few maybes, Kai. But I believe there’s a reason for every move we make. A reason I was sent here, to this pack.”

Quincey nods. “Well, let’s hope you’re right. And let’s hope she’s someone you can tolerate.”

A smile pulls at my lips. “Come on, Quincey. Give me some credit. I think I’m a little easier to get along with these days.”

“Maybe,” he says, though his grin softens the jab. “But it takes a certain kind of person to handle an alpha. And you’re not exactly the… easiest guy to handle.”

Kai lets out a breath. “Let’s be real, Alec. The only woman who could stand you is probably the one that doesn’t take any of your crap. So here’s hoping that’s who the pack picks.”

They’re not wrong. Whoever this mysterious mate is, she’ll have to be able to handle the challenges of this role—and deal with me, a man with a past full of mistakes, one determined to prove he’s worthy of leading this pack.

Quincey’s laughter fades, and he looks out over the land, his gaze distant and thoughtful. “You’re making the right choice, Alec. East Hills doesn’t need a leader who’s half in. We need someone who’ll commit, who’ll put down roots here.”

“Roots,” I echo, staring out at the rolling hills, the dense forests, the territory that’s now mine to protect. “Maybe that’s what I need, too.”

Because maybe, despite everything, that’s what I’ve been searching for all along—a place to call mine, a bond to anchor me, something that goes beyond pack allegiance. Something that feels like a future.

Kai nudges me with her shoulder, breaking me out of my thoughts. “Just don’t lose your mind about it. We all know you’re prone to a little… intensity.”

“Oh, I’m perfectly calm,” I reply, the words dry as dust.

“You’ll manage,” Quincey comments. “Just don’t look too pained when they present your bride.”

I glance at him, mock horror crossing my face. “Quincey, you think I’d do something as undignified as cringe?”

Kai bursts into laughter, elbowing Quincey as she shakes her head. “Oh, this is going to be fun to watch. I’m bringing popcorn to the ceremony.”

I shake my head, trying and failing to suppress a grin. This is exactly what I need—the grounding presence of my cousins, the reminder that, no matter what, I’m not alone in this.

“Well, then,” I say, clearing my throat and drawing myself up to my full height, feigning solemnity. “Let the pack know I’m ready. Let the elders—what’s left of them, anyway—know I’ll take a mate and uphold this tradition.”

Quincey gives me a proud nod, and Kai’s laughter fades, her expression shifting to something softer, something that looks a lot like approval.

I’ve made my decision, and there’s no turning back now. For East Hills, for the pack, and for the chance to build something real, something lasting. Even if it’s not what I once thought I’d have.

But who knows? Maybe fate has a few surprises left for me.

And as I stand there with my cousins, I can’t help the slight spark of hope that flickers in my chest. That somewhere in this, in the path I’m forging, there’s a chance at something even I don’t yet understand.

Let it come , I think. Let the test begin .