Eight months to his twenty-third birthday, Weston was counting the days. After a new Alpha was appointed, they had until their next birthday or until they had ruled for a year?whichever came first?to take a mate or surrender their Alphaship. A legality Simeon had avoided by killing Grier days after Alpha Farley’s last visit, knowing he would have a year’s reprieve. Twelve months until the Mesklireturned.
Simeon had left Keon with no time to prepare for the duties and responsibilities thrust upon Alphas. His word was deemed law, now. With Weston helping him navigate this world of Alphaship, Keon thought it worth reiterating he wouldn’t be rushed.
Stopping at Weston’s side, he growled a low warning, his m’weko close to the surface. “I may have refused my mate, but I won’t be badgered into choosing another. I have eight months until my birthday. I’ll let you know when I’ve chosen a replacement,” he said, catching Weston’s eye to prevent misunderstandings. “Don’t throw potential mates in my face.”
He stormed off, leaving Weston to reflect on his words. He was a good Beta and a good man, but worried about the longevity of Keon’s rule. Keon had known who his true mate was for years, as any m’weko over the age of eighteen could recognise their true mate on the first meeting. True mates were considered myth, nowadays. The one the Fates had chosen to remain by their side forever. But Keon had always believed and hoped. Until he’d found his mate and realised he was trouble.
Few chose to reject their true mate, when they didn’t like, fancy, or approve of the person. Those like Keon, who refused to play second fiddle to a cheater, or who had seen a violent streak in their true mate.
Outside of the Alpha, the Meskli had sole power to approve a chosen mate. Never, in the years Keon had lived, had an Alpha taken a male mate. While Alphas were predominantly female in other foame territories, m’weko remained chauvinistic to the core. Men ruled the world, and it had been made clear they would not tolerate a gay relationship.
Pure luck had Weston by his side. Supportive, encouraging, and loyal. Gay and eager to push Keon into being the one to set a new precedent for their pack. To push boundaries and make the first recognised male-male mating of their people. While changing perceptions was the reason he’d returned, it was dangerous. If his pack rebelled, he could lose them. Without their loyalty, his position was nothing but a title. Farley could dissolve his Alphaship, making Keon the pack runt and discarded gay freak.
Waiting seemed prudent. Best to test the waters. Introduce a change of mindset, first. Open their eyes, and hearts to the possibilities of a better way of living. Then hit them with the knowledge their Alpha was gay.
As his feet pounded the compacted path of dirt leading to the centre of the village, the thought of his true mate made Keon’s teeth clench and jaw ache. His m’weko prowled beneath the surface, salivating at the thought of hunting and killing everyone Vega had touched.
Keon snorted.It’ll be a long list, he warned his inner beast.
From day one, rumours abound about Vega’s antics. Sleeping with anyone willing, using others with careless frivolity. Keon didn’t want anything to do with the two-timing bastard, no matter how deeply he believed in the Fates, the pack laws, and the true mate bond. Nothing could make Keon forgive Vega for the betrayal he’d committed as a young man. A betrayal that tore Keon’s heart in two, and made him scramble for Dnara the minute he was of age. He wouldn’t give Vega the power of being Alpha-Consort.
Everything had been easier in Dnara, before he became Alpha and had a hundred m’weko counting on him to make the right decisions.
What the hell had Simeon been thinking, fighting Alpha Grier for leadership? What did he know about leadership? Typical, he’d create a mess and expect Keon to clean up after him.
*
“YOU LOOK STUNNING, Alpha,” Weston remarked, brushing a fussy hand over the shoulder of the leather waistcoat as they stood on the podium.
Keon smirked, as Weston had discreetly offered reassurances about his complete disinterest in a romantic liaison. The first day Keon shed the grief for his father and became a real Alpha, Weston had ‘confessed’ to being gay. He’d begged Keon to accept him, relieved to hear Keon was like-minded. Instantly apologising, because while he respected Keon and his family (with the exception of his horrendous brothers), Keon was not his type and his heart had already been claimed.
A sentiment he’d returned with equal amusement and embarrassment. He’d never had a more awkward conversation, but it was a relief to have someone know his true nature, who he could confide in openly.
Looking the part, when he didn’t feel it, relieved Keon’s mind. He’d been unwanted as Alpha from the first moment Weston announced his return to Vihaan. Weston had struggled to accept no one wanted Keon as Alpha, but the pack loved Simeon’s violence-is-my-jam vibe. Keon was sure they wanted someone as equally bloodthirsty at the helm, and resented him for not being good enough.
As the pack filtered into the village square, Keon cast his eye over them.
Five weeks and he was still an outsider. One of the only smiles in the crowd belonged to Vega, who tipped his head when he caught Keon’s gaze. An arrogant acknowledgement, as if Keon had been searching for him.
Five years his senior, Vega was lazy, arrogant, self-opinionated. How could Keon, as a responsible Alpha, take Vega as a mate? What made Vega imagine he’d want to? Sure, Vega was attractive—big blue eyes, dark brown hair, and a body to die for—but Keon had learned the heart was more important than looks. Vega was a prime example of why.
Weston cleared his throat, signalling everyone had arrived. As expected of him, Keon raised his hands until the casual muttering and whispers of a gathered group descended, leaving silence in its wake.
“I know it’s been a hard year and you’re adjusting to my rule as Alpha. Trust me, I’m adjusting tobeingAlpha,” he confessed, hoping to ease their minds. If he’d made mistakes, they’d better consider it a learning curve. “Thank you for your attendance at my father’s funeral.”
With Simeon’s sudden death and his father’s decline, arrangements had been slow. Keon had been a wreck for the first three days, drinking into a stupor and barely leaving bed, unable to cope with the sudden, unexpected loss of his father, his mentor, the man who guided him through life. Weston had let him grieve undisturbed.
Once functioning, Keon held a vigil for Simeon, where anyone who had tolerated his brother could pay their respects. His body had been laid on the boundaries of their land, by the pack he’d attacked. Dumped during the night to let his family grieve. A compassionate gesture, not performed by Alpha Thatcher, known to be harsh and unforgiving. Someone had disobeyed their Alpha to offer this last token of respect.
Keon owed them thanks.
Days later, they held the funerary process for his father. Three days of cleaning and prayers by the holy women, two days where the pack could write notes to accompany his funeral pyre, and a week to allow his body to dry in the humid conditions of a hut. Keon had hated every minute of the traditional burial, but honoured his father’s wishes, giving Nyseth Linwood a funeral to be proud of.
He’d hidden in his house for a week after saying his final goodbye, and spent this last week with Weston, noting their deaths in the official pack ledgers. Trying not to cry every time he spoke or wrote his father’s name. Knowing Nyseth would never see his youngest son become Alpha, a position he’d never dreamed of attaining.
Clearing his throat, Keon tried to stay strong. “My father would have been honoured by the cascade of notes and letters he took to the afterlife. I’m sure he’s watching us with pride,” he said, though his belief in the afterlife was shaky.
With a final rough cough, he pushed emotion aside. “I want to return this pack to the glory it once had. Whether I set the ball rolling or it can be achieved under my rule, no one can guess. All I promise is this: I will always put this pack first,” he vowed, glad he didn’t need to raise his voice. The pack remained silent, watching, waiting for the next fuck-up. “The law states I must accept my mate soon, or relinquish my Alphaship. I have no intention of blindly obeying a law made generations ago. I’ll take a mate prior to my birthday, but with conditions,” Keon announced, grateful for the silence. A glance at Vega had his jaw tightening when the bastard straightened, aware this concerned him.
