The Weight of Alpha and Mate
Amber slammed her fist onto the heavy oak desk, the stack of paperwork jumping in place as ink bled from the cracked inkwell.
She watched as ink spread across the once pristine sheets and vaguely thought about having to do all of it all over again. A small scream like sensation shimmered through her being as her wolf sighed in resignation.
For hours she had tried to focus on pack business, on numbers, on proposals, on the never-ending stream of requests her father's old council had once ignored. Now it fell to her. And though she was Alpha in both blood and strength, even Alphas could drown in parchment.
Her chest heaved with frustration, and through the frayed edges of her composure came the faintest thread across the bond.
Amber? Are you alright?
Stefan's voice was warm, steady, brushing over her like sunlight on still water.
Amber froze. Her claws slowly retracting, when had her claws extended? She found herself looking at the disappear with an odd expression in her face. She chose not to respond, instead she allowed his presence and their unique bond to heal and calm her a bit. It was a bond of wolves yes, but also of Alphas, of heart and soul, and of strength unimagined and untold. To feel his voice bleed through—unbidden, concerned—sent a pulse of heat to her throat. As the rest of her calmed.
She allowed hi, to sense her calm and left the rest unsaid. Her wolf surged forward, pressing against her skin, demanding release. The beast in her didn't tolerate weakness, didn't tolerate being buried, she wanted to be heard in clear and defined ways.
The wood groaned beneath her grip as her claws extended quickly once more, scored the surface. She let out a breath that shivered with both fury and longing.
And somewhere else in the packhouse, Stefan staggered.
He had been in mid-stride on his way to one of the many training yards, to oversee a formation exercise with the younger warriors, when his chest constricted. Not from fatigue. Not from injury. From something deeper—something primal. His wolf yanked at him, a violent snap on a leash, halting him in his tracks.
He felt the tug of his soul ties with Amber. A primal rage and yearning reaching out to him from it while his wolf reach back for it.
His wolf growled, not in approval but in warning, claws raking across his mind until he tasted iron. He knew. His wolf did not approve of his plans. His wolf wanted to protect not only its mate but also its unborn pup.
They were clearly not seeing eye to eye in this, and Amber's emotional fluctuations due to her pregnancy was making it harder for him to maintain the tenuous control.
Stefan clenched his jaw, steadied his stance, and barked an order to prepare for drills. To falter here would be dangerous. He needed to be the perfect mate and Alpha. He could not let anyone suspect the fire that coiled beneath his ribs.
He stepped forward onto the training grounds. The young warriors stumbling over themselves to get into proper formation.
But still… his heart hadn't stopped aching since the pull. He had another battle to endure and conquer. He would need to retame his wolf.
---
Later that evening, Amber visited the psi hall. The chamber shimmered faintly with wards that hummed like living threads in the air. Inside, Triss stood at the center, a small circle of younger wolves gathered around her, eyes shut, bodies stiff as they wrestled invisible forces.
Amber leaned against the archway, arms folded. Triss's voice was smooth, patient, carrying the faint edge of exhaustion.
"Focus on the river of thought. Do not force it. Guide it."
One trainee whimpered, clutching his temple. Triss turned her attention to him, and the pressure dissipated. "Enough for today. Discipline, not desperation."
Amber stepped forward, eyes narrowing. "You're pushing them hard."
Triss inclined her head respectfully. "Better here, where I can catch them, than in the field where mistakes cost lives."
Amber said nothing for a long moment. Her wolf stirred again, restless. She had always been impressed with the Psi, her father, ever suspicious, never used them properly. Once she and Adonis allowed them more latitude the pack improved. Then Triss came and her pack moved sharper, reacted faster, their were minds steadier.
She trusted Triss like a little sister. She knew that her powers were even beyond the Psi of her pack, whom she respected, but she had also see Triss in action. She had seen how Triss protected and pushed, even herself, hard to achieve a goal.
Of course she had doubts. She knee both Triss and Stefan had secrets. She would allow them their secrets and keep her own. If either ever chose to act against the pack she would have to swallow all emotion and cut them both down.
She looked at the other Psi in the room then back at Triss. She was the most powerful one here. Bringing was something Amber did not want to think about.
---
The next morning, Stefan led a closed session with a cadre of senior warriors. Amber stood at the edge, her presence silent but heavy.
He demonstrated Fangbreaker, the ancient technique meant to shatter a vampire's hold in close combat. His body moved with precision—claws extended, stance low, each strike aimed to break fangs before they could pierce flesh.
"Your wolf is your anchor," he said, his voice carrying authority. "You do not dodge. You break. You do not retreat. You end."
He caught a warrior's strike mid-swing, twisted, and dropped him flat with the movement of someone who had rehearsed this a thousand times. Gasps followed, awe shimmering in the air.
It was clearly an Alpha move and for an Alpha to actually allow others to learn it was unprecedented, but Stefan had made a promise. He chose to stand with Luna Azul and he was determined to for them to win.
Amber's chest swelled—not with suspicion, but with pride. He looked every inch the warrior mate she had always felt she deserved. Every inch the Alpha who could stand beside her.
Her wolf purred in agreement, though it still pawed at her insides, restless from yesterday's flare.
She focused as they went through the move again. She would learn this and spar with her mate later.
---
That evening, as the moon rose, Stefan gathered the pack again, this time at the cliffs. Amber joined silently once more, her eyes glinting in the moonlight.
He demonstrated Moondrinker, the howl-borne technique that turned breath into force. His chest expanded, his wolf shimmering under his skin, and when he released the howl it wasn't just sound—it was a wave that rattled the rocks, sent dust tumbling, and staggered even seasoned warriors.
Several collapsed to their knees, clutching their heads.
Stefan straightened, letting the echo fade. "This is not for pride. This is not for intimidation. This is a weapon. To wield it, you must be prepared to bear the cost."
Amber's throat tightened. She could see the cost in his eyes. The strain of control, the shiver of his wolf behind his calm mask. For the briefest moment, she almost sent warmth across their bond—gratitude, maybe, or longing. But she swallowed it.
Was it weakness to want to strengthen and maintain her mate? Or by thinking he needed her assistance was she calling him weak?
She shook the thought away and focused to learn this technique as well. She would not be a burden.
She would be another weapon in his arsenal, just as he was in hers.
---
That night, Amber sat in her chambers, the fire casting long shadows. The memory of his voice through the bond lingered. The claw marks on her desk reminded her of her own lack of control. And the weight of leadership, of pregnancy, of doubt—it all pressed down until her wolf whispered, Call him.
Call him? Stefan? She shook her head in dismissal. He could never know how truly weak she was. But she did need to speak to someone, but who? She sat for a long moment before it finally came to her.
Her uncle. Trahan.
The man her father had rejected, but the man she had embraced the moment she became Alpha. The one who would not lie to her, not soothe her fears for convenience.
She reached for the comm-crystal, her hand gripping it a bit to hard. "Uncle…" she whispered, and the connection hummed to life.
She didn't yet know what she would tell him. Only that if she didn't, her personal worries could consume her.