When My Alpha Chose Her

The numbers finally aligned at 2:47 AM.

I sat back in the cramped basement office—really just a converted storage room that smelled of mildew and old cardboard—and watched the simulation run one more time on my battered laptop. The perimeter algorithm I'd been refining for three weeks traced elegant patterns across the screen, rerouting patrol schedules to cover the vulnerable western border where rogues had been testing our defenses.

Green lights bloomed across the digital map. Success.

My right hand cramped from hours of coding, fingers stiff around the pen I'd used to sketch the initial defense patterns. I flexed them slowly, feeling the familiar ache that came with these late nights. But it was worth it. The western border would hold now. The pack would be safe.

I saved the file three times—paranoid habit—and printed the report on the ancient printer that wheezed like it might die with each page. The paper was still warm when I gathered it into a folder, along with the hand-drawn tactical maps that showed the rogue movement patterns I'd identified.

Parker would want to see this immediately. Despite everything, he still valued results.

The pack house was silent as I climbed the stairs from the basement, my soft footsteps barely audible on the worn carpet. Most of the pack was asleep, their scents a comfortable blend in the background—home, even if I wasn't allowed to claim it publicly. I caught a faint trace of Karter's scent from the Omega quarters where he slept, that sweet pup smell mixed with something sharper, more complex. My son. My secret.

Light spilled from under Parker's office door on the second floor. My heart did that stupid flutter it always did, the mate bond pulling at my chest like a fishhook. Three years of being his hidden mate, and my body still hadn't learned that wanting him only brought pain.

I knocked softly. "Parker? It's me. I have the western border report."

"Come in." His voice was clipped, distracted.

He sat behind his massive oak desk, looking every inch the Alpha in his crisp black shirt, sleeves rolled to reveal forearms corded with muscle. His dark hair was slightly mussed, and for a moment—just a moment—I remembered what it felt like to run my fingers through it, back when he still touched me like I mattered.

"The algorithm worked." I stepped forward, setting the folder on his desk. "The simulation shows a 94% improvement in response time to border breaches. I've also identified three patterns in the rogue movements that suggest they're being coordinated by—"

"Nadia." He didn't look up from whatever he was reading. "It's almost three in the morning."

"I know, but this is important. The rogues nearly breached the western perimeter last week, and with this new system—"

"I said it's late." He finally looked at me, and his expression was cold. Distant. The way he looked at Omegas who'd displeased him. "We have important guests arriving tomorrow. Visiting delegation from the Ironclaw Pack.