The Alpha Chose Her, I Took His Pup

Kohen Rice and I attended the same pack academy. He was the son of the Alpha, his life meticulously charted out—every step predetermined. But Kohen was stubborn; he defied his family’s expectations and carved his own path as an entrepreneur. I became his first business partner. He brought the resources, and I brought the grit.

Once, I asked him why he chose me. There were plenty in our pack who seemed more capable, more polished. He twirled a pen absently between his fingers, his amber eyes locking onto mine with a warmth that made my stomach flutter.

“I like you,” he said finally, a slow smile spreading across his face. “For that unyielding spirit of yours.”

Back then, it was my relentless drive that caught his attention. Later, that same ambition became what he feared. Miriam Meyer was different from me—soft-spoken, uncomplicated. She was the perfect Luna candidate, someone who wouldn’t challenge him but would seamlessly fit into his life. Kohen was decisive; he knew what he wanted and acted on it.

We were similar, he and I—always pushing, always striving, like two wolves circling each other in a hunt. This mutual understanding made us formidable business partners, adept at navigating tough negotiations and crafting strategies that led us to success. But it also made us volatile, like two flames that could either light up the world or burn it down.

The night we celebrated our first major success, we drank too much and ended up sprawled on a bed surrounded by scattered pack records and loose bills. Kohen turned his head to me, his gaze heavy with something I couldn’t quite name.

“Brooklyn, you’re amazing,” he said, his voice low and rough.

I laughed, the sound echoing in the quiet room. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

The relentless pace of our work eventually caught up with Kohen, and he fell ill with a fever that left him weak and disoriented. I stayed by his side, tending to him until he suddenly shifted, his larger wolf form pinning me beneath him. His eyes were bloodshot, his body radiating heat like a furnace.

“I like you,” he whispered again, this time with no hesitation, his voice thick with emotion.

The air between us was charged, filled with the faint scent of cedarwood and mint, a scent that was uniquely his. His words were like a spark, igniting something deep within me, pulling us both into a current neither of us could resist.