Hunter (From Alpha Triplets)

Hunter had never believed he needed a mate.

As the eldest Alpha of Silver Ridge, he had spent his life being prepared to lead. At six-foot-three, heavily muscled, tattooed, and carrying enough Alpha blood to make weaker wolves lower their eyes, Hunter had never struggled to get what he wanted.

Power. Money. Loyalty. Women.

Especially women.

Unlike most unmated Alphas, Hunter wasn't searching for the woman fate had chosen for him. A Luna meant vulnerability. Responsibility. Someone whose safety would constantly be hanging over his head.

Hunter already had an entire pack depending on him.

He didn't need another responsibility.

Hunter wasn't the type for clubs or wild parties anyway.

His idea of unwinding was quieter.

Once a month, after pack business was finished, a handful of trusted wolves gathered at Hunter's private lodge near the edge of Silver Ridge territory. Whiskey. Cigars. Cards. Low music in the background.

No crowds.

No strangers.

Just people Hunter actually tolerated.

That night, Hunter sat at the head of the poker table with bourbon beside him, silently watching everyone bluff themselves into losing money.

He had already won enough to irritate half the table when a familiar woman leaned against the doorway and caught his eye.

Hunter knew what she wanted.

And he wasn't opposed.

They disappeared upstairs without making a spectacle of it.

There were no promises between them. There never had been.

Some time later, Hunter sat on the edge of the bed pulling on dark pants while the woman remained tangled beneath the sheets.

His black hair was disheveled. A light sheen of sweat covered his skin. His tattoos stretched down his right arm and across his shoulders as he reached for the cigarette on the nightstand.

Hunter lit it.

He took one slow drag.

Then froze.

A scent.

It slipped through the cracked window beneath smoke, pine, whiskey, and rain-soaked earth.

Soft.

Warm.

Sweet enough that his mouth watered.

His wolf slammed against his mind.

Mate.

Hunter's sapphire-blue eyes snapped toward the window.

"No."

The growl became deafening.

Mate.

Hunter stood.

The woman behind him said something, but he didn't hear her.

Every instinct he possessed had narrowed onto that scent.

Hunter shoved his feet into his boots and left the room, barely bothering to fasten his shirt.

He descended the stairs, passing the poker table without explanation.

"Hunter?" someone called.

He ignored them.

The scent was stronger near the front door.

Hunter stepped onto the lodge porch.

Cold night air hit him.

His wolf surged forward.

There.

Somewhere near the quiet road cutting through Silver Ridge territory was the one person Hunter had spent his entire adult life insisting he didn't need.

His mate.

And for the first time in Hunter's life, the reasonable Alpha had absolutely no idea what he was going to do next.