Bound to the Broken Alpha

“Mate, how old are you this year?”

That day, when Cruz returned home from pack training, he found me standing with a stern face, glaring at him coldly.

“How old?” Cruz paused, like a distracted student suddenly called out by a teacher. He quickly lowered his head and counted on his fingers. “I’m twenty.”

“The prime of youth, full of ambition and vigor,” I said, mimicking the tone of a Luna, speaking with measured seriousness. “Mate, don’t you want to learn a skill while you’re young? Rogue hunting might keep us alive, but it’s barely enough to survive. And it’s… undignified.”

“Why not learn a trade? Tracking, combat training—it might not bring in much, but with careful planning, we could save enough. With some capital, we could establish a territory. If we’re lucky and make a big profit, we could build a den, maybe even… expand our pack. What do you think?”

I pondered.

Mabel’s truth-speaking power was cruel, no doubt. But her words—“You’ll be childless, yet surrounded by pack members”—made me think. Even if I couldn’t have pups of my own, any children born to Cruz’s chosen mates would still be part of my pack. Didn’t that mean Cruz would rise to greatness, with mates and offspring to show for it?

But my earnest advice fell on deaf ears.

“I started with nothing, just a rogue hunter,” Cruz said, shrugging. “And that’s not something I can change overnight.”

“As for the rest… we’ll take it one step at a time.”