Marking the Alpha My Cousin Couldn't Tame

After being reborn, the first thing my cousin and I did was swap mates.

Elena paired with Kaelen Thornfield—the coldest Alpha the West had ever produced. Fifty years together and he never marked her. Not once. She existed in his pack like a ghost with a title and no proof she belonged.

Me? I got stuck with Everett Calloway, a Beta who treated his library card with more respect than his mate. He thought women should be soft-spoken and decorative. I thought he should learn to throw a punch before lecturing me on femininity. We made it eleven months before he moved into the pack archives and I moved on with my life.

Then Elena and I woke up twenty-three again. And it was the morning of our mating contracts.

I'd already packed my bag when Elena found me.

"What are you doing?" She stared at the duffel on my bed.

"Switching." I zipped it shut. "I'm taking the western contract. You take Everett."

"Roxy, you can't just—"

"Why not? Grandpa's deal says a Blackwell granddaughter mates the Thornfield heir. Doesn't say which one." I slung the bag over my shoulder. "You lasted fifty years in a frozen marriage with that man. Fifty years, Elena. No mark, no bond, no kids. I watched you disappear."

Her eyes went glassy. She knew exactly what I meant. We both remembered.

"He's an Alpha," she whispered. "You're Beta. His whole pack will eat you alive."

"Good. I bite back."

"And there's that girl—Liora. She's the reason I—" Her voice cracked.

"I know who she is." I grabbed my keys. "That's exactly why it should be me and not you. You're too kind for that kind of war. I'm not."

She caught my wrist. "Roxy..."

"Look. If it works, great. If it doesn't, I'll rip up the contract and drive home. No mark lasts forever if only one side wants it. I'll be fine."

She was quiet for a long time. Then she pulled out her phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Transferring you my savings." Her fingers moved across the screen before I could stop her. "All of it."

"Elena, I don't need—"

"You're driving across the country alone to take the life that was supposed to destroy me." She looked up. Her eyes were red, but her voice was steady. "The least I can do is make sure you have gas money."

My throat tightened. I shoved the phone back at her, but the transfer had already gone through.

"...You're annoyingly efficient for someone who cries this much."

She laughed. It sounded like relief.

That was two days ago. I'd been on the highway since dawn, my truck loaded with everything I owned, watching the East shrink in my rearview mirror.

My phone lit up for the eleventh time. Mom.

I hit speaker.

"Roxanne Blackwell, you turn that truck around right now or so help me—"

"Mom, I left a note on the fridge."

"A NOTE? You think a sticky note makes up for stealing your cousin's mating contract and running off to the middle of nowhere? What is wrong with you? I raised you better than—"

"Love you, Mom. Signal's bad in the mountains. Might lose you."

"Don't you dare hang up on—"

I hung up.

Guilt sat in my chest like a rock. She'd forgive me eventually. Probably. Maybe after I sent her a really nice Christmas gift.

But turning back wasn't an option. Not this time.

Three days of driving. The highways gave way to back roads, the back roads gave way to dirt, and the dirt gave way to nothing but forest and silence. Thirty miles from Cold Moon territory, my radiator hose blew.

No signal. No tow truck. Just me and a busted engine in the middle of nowhere.

By the time I got it running again, I had grease up to my elbows, diesel in my hair, and a fingernail ripped clean off. My whole body ached and I smelled like I'd crawled out of a junkyard.

Elena would've had a panic attack out here. Then again, that's why she was safe in Ironveil with a man who'd probably wrap her in bubble wrap if she sneezed.

And I was here, smelling like a gas station, about to meet the most powerful Alpha in the West.

Great first impression, Roxy.

I sat on the hood of my truck at the pack border checkpoint, legs dangling, arms streaked with black grease. Two sentries watched me from their posts. Neither had said a word since I showed up and announced I was their Alpha's arranged mate.

I couldn't blame them. I probably looked like I'd lost a fight with an engine block.

My wolf stirred—restless, alert. New territory. Unknown pack. Hostile reception guaranteed.

Bring it.

I was wiping grease off my forearms with a rag when a voice drifted over from the gate. High, breathy, dripping with disgust.

"Kaelen, what is that awful smell? Like engine grease and—oh god, is that sweat?"

I looked up.