Page 3 of The Alpha’s Forced Omega (Alaska Alpha Wolves #1)

Feeling uncomfortable as I stand in Aurora’s cabin, waiting for her to return from the bathroom, I check the time on my wristwatch, impatiently tapping my foot on a loose floorboard.

I’ve never visited Aurora’s home, but suddenly, a wave of curiosity passes through me, leading me to a bookshelf in the corner. I catch myself, reeling my arm back when I’m about to reach for an unfamiliar book cloaked in leather.

I’ve never been remotely interested in the omega she-wolf, and now that the pack has decided to sacrifice her to the demon, I shouldn’t allow curiosity to take over.

There’s no point in becoming attached in any way, especially to a she-wolf who’s way too young to handle the responsibilities that come with being tied to the leader of this pack.

That’s why I rejected her back then…

Shrugging off the thought, I check the time again, realizing that it’s been almost ten minutes since she left, and I’ve been mulling over the past just as long. I huff an impatient breath through puckered lips, shoving my hands into my pockets and turning away from the bookshelf.

Why is she taking so long?

Biting my bottom lip in contemplation, I decide to go down the passage to find her. I knock on the closed door that she’d entered and wait.

“Aurora…?” I call out, rapping on the door again. It’s the second time tonight that she hasn’t heeded my call; the first time, and the alpha in me becomes infuriated, as if she’s choosing to defy me.

It’s that innate sovereignty that has me pushing the door in without thinking about the consequences of finding her in a compromised position. Not that it matters since I walk into the bedroom and find that it’s empty, the wardrobe doors and nightstand drawer thrown open as if in haste.

A gust of wind billows the lace curtain in, drawing my attention to the parted window. I make my way across the room, only to discover that a piece of torn fabric whistles against the wind on the latch.

It’s the same ivory material as the dress Aurora was wearing. I grab the piece and crush it in my fist, realizing that she’s run away.

***

“She must have known about the sacrifice,” Grandfather Silas sighs.

“She was bound to find out,” Alpha Thane comments flatly. “It’s no secret that the demon is around or that we need to sacrifice one of our own to appease its wrath.”

An unnerving shiver courses down my spine, but I ignore my inner wolf’s reflections and pay attention to the meeting.

As soon as the elders found out that Aurora Sinclair—the chosen sacrifice for the demon—had gone missing from her cabin, they called up another emergency meeting.

We haven’t decided what to do next, but by the concerned looks on the elders’ faces, it’s clear that they’re worried about the safety of the pack.

Charles, Thane’s father, readily agrees with his son. “The pack is already aware that the demon dog is on the loose. I am certain that they found comfort in the fact that Miss Sinclair was to be sacrificed for their protection. Now that she has fled, what will we do?”

My grandfather clears his throat, drawing the boardroom’s attention to the stern look on his face.

“We will have to find her.” He turns to me then, sending another wildly unnerving shiver down my spine.

“You will have to track her down and bring her back, Elias. It is your duty as the leader of this pack.”

Gulping hard and squaring my gaze at my grandfather, my palm absentmindedly settles on my pocket, where the piece of Aurora’s torn dress is hidden.

When I found it, I could have pressed the material to my nose and soaked up her scent, then proceeded to the woods, where I would have easily tracked her.

Perhaps, deep down, I was hoping the Elder Council would choose someone else in her place. It’s an absurd wish since I have no reason to protect Aurora when I have the pack’s safety as a priority.

“Yes, Grandfather,” I concede with a solemn nod. “I will gather the troops and set off for the—”

“No,” Grandfather Silas interjects. “That won’t be necessary. The omega will not have gotten very far. We need to ensure that Girdwood is protected against any unforeseen attacks, and with the leader out hunting, we need to take the proper precautions.”

I nod again, sensing the extent of how worried the pack is about their safety. Of course, I can handle my own and don’t require the assistance of our soldiers to go out in search of an omega.

The only trouble is that when I set off to track Aurora down, I’m left with my lone thoughts, my inner wolf swimming to the surface and ruffling the feathers of thoughts I’ve been putting off for years.

Aurora Sinclair …

She was always the outcast of the Snehvolk Pack because she wasn’t as fit as a werewolf should be and because she had a crazy grandmother who often rambled about things in her native tongue.

No one understood her, and I watched Aurora sink deeper and deeper into herself, even preventing her wolf from emerging in its true form on the night of her eighteenth birthday.

I was already a thirty-year-old alpha when she turned eighteen, and I’d been hardened by the loss of both my parents by the time I turned twenty-one.

My grandfather took it upon himself to raise me and train me as the leader of this pack, and I couldn’t disappoint him.

I had a lot riding on my leadership and couldn’t risk being caught in a web of romance with the outcast of the pack.

Even if it was my inner wolf who’d thought, for a split second, that the she-wolf whose arm he’d touched sent enough electric awareness charging through his fingertips that she might have been his fated mate.

I’ll never forget that night when she turned eighteen.

As the leader of Snehvolk, I’d naturally become aware of her absence around the ceremonial bonfire that night, even though it wasn’t a celebration of her birthday but an annual ritual under the gray skies that are annually lit up by the crimson Lunar Moon.

She’d been missing, and it was duty that led me to the mountains to find her and bring her back to the gathering to join the others.

She’d been crying—I noticed it from the way her shoulders shook when I approached her.

And when I reached out to touch her arm, I felt a paralyzing current rushing through me, almost binding me to her and tying a knot around my wrist like the one that was beginning to form in the pit of my belly.

Luckily for me, she’d turned her doe, tear-stricken brown eyes on me, reminding me that those pitiful depths belonged to the lowest omega in the pack’s ranks.

My mind went to war with my inner wolf’s consciousness as it purred and licked its intangible lips as if it was seeing her through the lens of a potentially fated mate.

I couldn’t allow my inner wolf to make that mistake. So even though I questioned why she was out there that night and proceeded to listen to how she didn’t receive her wolf on her birthday, it was that mere fact that drove my determination to keep my inner wolf at bay.

As an alpha and leader of the Snehvolk Pack, I could never be bound to a mate bond with the lowly omega. When she claimed she loved me, I was shocked.

Had she sensed it too?

Or was she just out of her mind?

It’s probably the latter. Aurora Sinclair’s wolf is too weak to have found a mate bond with an alpha of my caliber.

So why does the memory of that night still haunt me as I tread through the snowy forest?

As I swat at a low-hanging branch on my way through the forest, the mist of snow caught on the tree stops me in my tracks.

The cloud of white takes me back to the moment Aurora gasped in horror when I rejected her.

I could have sworn that I saw the air leaving her lips as if her soul was leaving her body, the clutches of my rejection draining the life out of her.

My brutal words of rejection were as good as clamping a hand over her throat and constricting her breathing.

I was only riddled with guilt because I would never dare to harm a fellow pack member, even if she’s the half-breed whose father mated with a human.

My hands curl into fists at my sides just as I take a deep breath of crisp, cold Alaskan air that helps to douse the flames of my inner wolf’s seemingly instinctual but unwarranted fury in the throes of my mind.

I won’t let it win—not when the pack’s safety is at stake. That is my main concern, and forsaking one life to save the lives of three hundred werewolves is a neutral decision any good alpha would make. Aurora Sinclair is nothing but an outcast in Snehvolk, and sacrificing her is a justified cause.

As I trudge ahead, stomping my boots through the thick snow blanket covering the southwest side of the valley, I pick up on a scent distinctive of a Snehvolk wolf—even if she’s just a half-breed.

The musk scent can be found on all of our wolves, making it easier to trace even when the heavy Alaskan snowfall leads into the Winter Solstice.

Still, I find myself absentmindedly reaching into my pocket to produce the shred of Aurora’s dress, just to be sure, just to appease my inner wolf, who suddenly becomes rabid inside my head.

Its bout of crazed panic has me crumbling the piece of fabric in my hand and stuffing it to my nose, my heart pounding against my ribcage with bestial frenzy as if I would suddenly consume the cotton material. A pang of hunger grips the pit of my belly, and I realize how absurd this is.

Catching myself in the midst of a manic episode, a growl reverberates in my chest as I reproachfully fling the fabric to the ground. I’ve already inhaled enough of Aurora’s scent to know that she’s close by. Following my instincts, I stomp through the snow until I near the base of the mountains.

The grove of tightly woven hemlock trees opens up to the valley where the river is frosted over by the snow, the icicles glinting like sparkling diamond crusts.

Usually, in wolf form, I would enjoy the sights of the Alaskan landscape, soaking up the tranquility that comes with being out here alone.

But now that the demon is upon us, that little slice of solace I’d often find is no longer mine.

Not because I can’t take on the malevolent creature by myself, but because I’m out here looking for the runaway omega.

Remembering why I’m here tonight in the first place, I close my eyes and allow my innate senses to take over, sniffing the air and finding the direction of Aurora’s distinct scent in the midst of the gentle snowfall.

A flake settles on the top of my nose, the coldness prompting me to open my eyes just in time to feel an eerie chill rake over my spine, prickling the fine hairs on the back of my neck.

My inherently hot body temperature is no match against the Alaskan air, which suddenly feels colder. My instincts kick in, and I scan my surroundings, only to realize that the air has turned dark.

The way goosebumps pebble the flesh of my arms signals a warning.

My eyes become focused when my wolf eyes ignite like burning embers, allowing me to see beyond my human form and through the eerie darkness that settles over my surroundings.

A dissonant screech pulls my attention toward the right, where I see it for the first time.

The demon dog…

Unlike the myths and tales we were told, it's nothing like what I imagined. It’s much more shocking.

The malignant spirit coasts the ground, barely touching the snow and merely brushing the tips of its feet as it prowls forward.

Much like a dog, its bony frame is cloaked by a shaggy suit that pulls taut against the structure of muscles and moves fluidly with each calculated breath.

A purple tongue laps from its sharply pointed mouth, the glint in its black eyes telling that it’s found its next prey.

A sudden jolt of awareness courses through me, but I’m too appalled by the demon’s appearance to make a move.

Not only is the demon within reach, but it’s headed for Aurora. I can tell by the richness of her scent extending from the cave where the demon is headed. The ghastly creature found her before I could, and she’s about to become its next meal.

Just as the pack had planned.