Page 25 of Mating With My Grumpy Alphas (Hollow Haven #2)

Wes

T he morning patrol through the eastern watershed should have been routine. Check the monitoring stations, document any changes in water quality, note wildlife activity patterns. Simple conservation work that usually helped me think clearly about complex problems.

Instead, I found myself distracted by thoughts of Willa’s gallery opening tonight, wondering if I should go, if my presence would make her nervous, if showing up would seem like pressure she didn’t need.

The photography exhibition was her moment.

Her chance to reclaim something that bastard Sterling had tried to destroy.

The last thing she needed was three alphas hovering around making the evening about territorial dynamics instead of celebrating her artistic breakthrough.

But I wanted to be there. Wanted to see other people recognize the talent I’d witnessed firsthand during the open day. Wanted to watch her face when she realized that her work mattered to this community, that her vision had value beyond commercial viability or someone else’s approval.

My radio crackled with an incoming call, pulling my focus back to the job I was actually supposed to be doing. “Wes, this is dispatch. You’ve got someone requesting to meet you at the old logging road access point. Says it’s about the Eastbrook development project.”

I frowned, checking my watch. The logging road was deep in the disputed territory, not somewhere casual visitors wandered. “Did they give a name?”

“Cassian Black. Says you’ll know what it’s about.”

Cassian Black? What the hell was he doing out here, and why did he want to meet in the middle of nowhere instead of at the ranger station? That bastard was the one about to destroy this entire place. He wasn’t exactly someone I wanted to do any favors for.

“On my way,” I reluctantly said into the radio. It wasn’t like I had a choice. By making the request through dispatch it looked like it was part of my job and I wasn’t about to neglect that or make anyone think I was either.

I turned my truck in the direction of the logging road, already feeling myself disappearing into a black cloud of anger as I did. At least I could take my mood out on him in person. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Twenty minutes later, I spotted his expensive SUV parked at the trailhead, looking completely out of place among the hiking trail markers and conservation signs.

Cassian was leaning against the hood, wearing what probably counted as his version of outdoor gear.

Clean hiking boots that had never seen actual mud, and a perfectly fitted outdoor jacket that screamed designer label.

But when he looked up as I approached, something in his expression made me reassess. He looked tired, strained, like someone carrying weight he wasn’t sure how to bear. I hated that it made me concerned about him rather than happy he wasn’t walking through this whole thing unscathed.

“Thanks for meeting me,” he said, straightening up. “I know this seems strange, but I couldn’t risk being seen talking to you in town.”

“What’s this about, Cassian?”

He glanced around, making sure we were alone, then pulled out a manila envelope. “I need you to have this. Documentation that should help with your environmental appeal.”

I took the envelope but didn’t open it, studying his face instead. “What kind of documentation?”

“The real environmental impact studies. The ones my family commissioned and then buried when they showed too much potential damage.” His voice was bitter.

“Water contamination projections, wildlife habitat destruction maps, seasonal migration disruption data. Everything they’ve been downplaying in the public reports.

But more importantly the confirmation that continuing with the development will mean severely restricting the water supply to Hollow Haven.

Enough that you’ll see severe droughts within the first five years and then a complete disruption by ten. ”

This could change everything , I realized, feeling the weight of the envelope. But something didn’t add up. “Why would you have access to buried reports?”

“Because I’m supposed to be the good son.

The heir apparent who handles public relations while the real decisions get made in private.

” He laughed, but there was no humor in it.

“What they don’t know is that I’ve been documenting every corner they’re cutting, every regulation they’re bending, every lie they’re telling about environmental impact. ”

I stared at him, trying to process this completely unexpected development. “You’re sabotaging your own family’s project?”

“I’m trying to save fifteen acres of protected habitat from becoming a playground for people who already have too much money.

” His voice carried conviction I hadn’t expected.

“I’ve seen what development like this does to communities.

I’ve spent enough time in corporate boardrooms to know that ‘economic opportunity’ usually means profits for investors and minimum-wage jobs for locals. ”

“Why?” I asked bluntly. “And why are you telling me?”

“Because I’ve been watching how you fight for this place.

Because you’re the kind of person who drives someone home when their car breaks down.

Because you fix things instead of replacing them.

” He paused, something almost vulnerable in his expression.

“Because this community means something, and it doesn’t deserve to be destroyed. ”

“What happens when your family finds out?” I asked.

“They cut me off completely. Disown me, probably.” His smile was bitter. “But that was going to happen eventually anyway. I’ve never been the son they wanted. Too much conscience, not enough ambition for profit.”

“That’s a hell of a price to pay for doing the right thing.”

“Some things are worth the price.” He gestured toward the envelope.

“Everything you need for a successful appeal is in there. Environmental violations, falsified reports, recorded conversations about fast-tracking permits. Enough evidence to stop construction and probably trigger state investigations. You could probably get the council to back off if you drop it in their lap as well.”

I felt something tight in my chest loosen for the first time since the council meeting disaster. “This could actually work.”

“It will work. The question is what you do with the victory afterward.”

“Mea

“Meaning this community is going to need people who care about protecting what matters. People who understand that some things can’t be replaced once they’re destroyed.

” He glanced toward the forest surrounding us.

“People like that omega photographer who’s been documenting wildlife rehabilitation.

People who understand the connection between conservation and community. ”

The way he mentioned Willa made me look at him more carefully. “You know about Willa’s photography?”

“I know Rhett has been talking about tomorrow night’s exhibition. He needs someone like her, someone to show him the beauty in life outside of a car engine.”

There was something in his tone that suggested he understood more about having passions stolen by family expectations than he’d initially let on.

“Environmental appeals take time,” I said, focusing back on practical concerns. “They’re talking about breaking ground in six weeks. The council is in their pocket and I’m not in the business of blackmailing people. This needs to be done right.”

“They are. With this evidence, you can file for an emergency injunction. Stop all construction immediately pending full investigation.” Cassian pulled out his phone. “I’ve already contacted state environmental protection services. They’re expecting your call. ”

The hope flooding through me was almost overwhelming. After weeks of feeling helpless, watching corporate money steamroll over environmental protections and community concerns, suddenly we had a real chance to win.

“Why now?” I asked. “You could have done this months ago.”

“Because months ago, I was still hoping I could change their minds from the inside. Still believing that showing them better alternatives might work.” He shook his head.

“It took watching the council meeting, seeing how they’d already bought the votes they needed, to realize that playing fair wasn’t going to save this place. ”

“And now?”

“Now I choose principle over profit. Community over corporate interests. The right thing over the easy thing.” He looked at me steadily. “Even if it costs me everything I thought I wanted.”

I thought about courage and sacrifice, about choosing what mattered over what was expected. About the difference between protecting something because it served your interests and protecting it because it was right.

“This won’t just stop the development,” I realized. “It’ll expose the corruption, the false reports, the bribery attempts.”

“Yes. And when it does, I’ll be officially disowned, probably blacklisted from the family business entirely.” Cassian’s expression was calm, like he’d already made peace with the consequences. “But I’ll be able to sleep at night knowing I did the right thing.”

Some things were worth losing everything for.

My phone buzzed with a text message as we talked.

I glanced at it quickly. Willa, asking if I’d seen any updates on the owl release she’d photographed last week.

Such a simple question, but it reminded me that some battles weren’t just about preserving habitat or protecting watersheds.

They were about creating the kind of community where people could flourish, where artists could rediscover their gifts, where conservation work mattered because it connected to human stories that gave life meaning.

“Thank you,” I said to Cassian, meaning it completely. “This changes everything.”

“Don’t thank me yet. Wait until you see if the evidence actually holds up in court.”

“It will.” For the first time since the council meeting disaster, I felt genuine confidence. “And when it does, this community owes you more than you’ll ever know.”

“The community doesn’t owe me anything. But maybe…

” He hesitated, then continued. “Maybe when this is over, when my family has cut me off and I’m figuring out what comes next, maybe Hollow Haven could use someone who understands how corporate development really works.

Someone who could help communities protect themselves before the bulldozers show up. ”

The possibility of Cassian staying, of turning his inside knowledge toward community protection rather than corporate profit, was something I hadn’t expected to consider.

“That sounds like it could be useful,” I said carefully.

“It sounds like it could be home,” he replied quietly.

Driving back to town with the envelope of evidence on my passenger seat, I found myself thinking about choices and consequences, about the courage it took to choose principle over profit. About the difference between the family you’re born into and the community you choose to serve.

My phone buzzed with another message from Willa as I reached the edge of town. I’d really like it if you could come tomorrow night. It would be great to see you there if you’re not too busy.

The vulnerable hope in that message hit me harder than I expected. She wanted me there. Not as obligation or politeness, but because my presence would matter to her.

I typed back quickly: Looking forward to celebrating what you’ve accomplished. You’ve earned every bit of recognition coming your way.

Tomorrow night, I’d watch Willa face her first public exhibition since Sterling tried to destroy her confidence.

I’d see the community recognize talent that had been suppressed and dismissed.

And maybe, if I was reading the situation correctly, I’d witness the beginning of something that went beyond conservation partnership or artistic support.

Something that looked suspiciously like the foundation for deeper connection than either of us had been ready to acknowledge.

But first, I had an environmental appeal to file and a development project to stop. Some things were worth fighting for, and some victories were worth savoring when they came.