Page 5 of Brutal Alpha's Sold Mate
“Your father ruled in isolation,” Leonard reminds me. “You want to take the Black Cauldron pack out of the shadows, do you not? Then you need a mate. Someone who can strengthen your claim, stabilize the pack, and show the others you’re not just another Hunt brother trying to grab power.”
My fingers dig into the edge of the desk, and the wood splinters under the pressure. “And where exactly am I supposed to find this perfect mate? You think I’ve got time for negotiations? For courting?”
Leonard raises an eyebrow. “Who said anything about negotiations?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “What are you talking about?”
“There’s a way to make this easy. None of that posturing is necessary. Just a simple arrangement.”
“An arrangement,” I repeat, suspicion lacing every word.
Leonard nods. “I’ve got a contact. Someone who deals with… unusual circumstances. He can help you find what you need. A mate strong enough to match you, smart enough to hold her own, and bound to you in a way no one can question.”
“You make it sound like I’m buying a new weapon.”
Leonard’s lips quirk in a faint smile. “In a way, you are. A mate is a weapon for an alpha. One that can cut through the doubt, the division, and the chaos your brothers are stirring up.”
I hate how logical it sounds, how much sense he’s making. Everything in me despises the idea. My father taught us that mates were unnecessary distractions, liabilities at best and weaknesses at worst. We were raised to think of them as something less, something beneath us. But my father is dead, and I can feel the weight of his absence in every decision I make. If this is what it takes to secure the pack, to take what’s rightfully mine…
“Fine,” I concede. “Do it.”
Leonard inclines his head. “I’ll make the arrangements.”
The elder is nothing if not efficient. He never wastes time with needless questions, a trait I’ve always appreciated, even if it occasionally grates on me. A nod from me was all the confirmation he needed, and from that moment, the wheels were in motion.
It takes all but a single day for the arrangements to be made, and he assures me it’ll be a seamless transaction. That’s all I need to know—at least, that’s what I told myself at the time. It’s what I keep telling myself as doubt begins to creep in, uninvited and unwanted.
When he introduces me to Malcolm and Wiley the next day, I know right away something is off. Malcolm’s grin is too perfect, like it’s been practiced in a mirror for hours, while Wiley’s teeth flash in a way that reminds me of the snarl of a cornered predator. They don’t seem trustworthy. Everything about them screams opportunists. My gut says they’re the kind of men who wouldn’t hesitate to stab you in the back if it meant getting ahead. My wolf stirs uneasily in the back of my mind, growling low, but I shove the instinct aside. This is business, nothing more.
“Theo Hunt,” Malcolm greets me, stepping forward with an exaggerated bow. “The man, the myth, the soon-to-be alpha. It’s an honor.”
I don’t bother shaking the hand he offers. “Let’s skip the pleasantries. Leonard says you can help me.”
“Help,” Wiley echoes, sidling up next to Malcolm with a nod. “That’s exactly what we’re here for. You’ve got a reputation, Mr. Hunt. Strong, ambitious, the kind of leader packs talk about.”
“I don’t need flattery,” I cut in. “I need results.”
Malcolm chuckles and pats his rotund stomach. “Of course. We’re men of action ourselves. And lucky for you, we’ve got just what you’re looking for.”
The two of them launch into their pitch, talking over each other in a way that’s clearly rehearsed. They speak in vague terms, carefully avoiding specifics, but the gist is clear: they have a solution to my problem. A mate. One who is strong, capable, and ready to fulfill the role without any of the usual complications.
“She’s perfect,” Wiley declares, spreading his hands as if he’s presenting me with a prize. “Beautiful, loyal, and more than capable of holding her own.”
“And where exactly did you find this perfect mate?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.
“Oh, we have our ways,” Malcolm replies smoothly. “Let’s just say we have an eye for talent.”
Something about the way he says it makes my stomach twist. My wolf growls again, louder this time, but I keep my expression neutral. “Why are you so eager to help me? What’s in it for you?”
Malcolm’s grin widens, if that’s even possible. “Let’s just say we believe in strong leadership. A united pack benefits everyone, doesn’t it?”
It’s a good answer. Too good. But I’m not about to walk away. Not yet.
“When do I meet her?” I ask.
“Soon,” Wiley promises. “You won’t be disappointed.”
The negotiations drag on for another hour, and by the end of it, I have more questions than answers. Malcolm and Wiley are slippery. They dodge every attempt I make to pinthem down. But no matter how much they dance around the details, one thing is clear: this isn’t going to be a traditional arrangement.
