My Father’s Best Friend Is My Mate

MERCEDES.

"Happy twenty-one, little brat!"

Dad tossed another satin-wrapped box onto the mountain of trash already swallowing my King-sized mattress. 

"Open that one next. It’s custom."

I leaned back against my headboard, kicking a stray bow off my knee, and glared at the glossy black box like it had personally insulted me. 

"If this is another diamond tennis bracelet, Dad, I’m throwing it out the window."

"Ungrateful," he said, though the warm wrinkle at the corner of his eyes betrayed him. He sat on the edge of the bed, his dark eyes softening with that gentle, fiercely protective look he’d had ever since Mom died. "You’re twenty-one, Mercedes. You’re supposed to get showered in stupid, expensive shit."

"I don't want stupid, expensive shit. I wanted Paris," I whined, dragging a pillow over my face and groaning into the feather stuffing. 

“You promised me a trip for my twenty-first birthday. Real travel. The Eiffel Tower, vintage wine, hot French men with accents. Not another grand dinner in the same packhouse I’ve lived in my entire damn life.”

Dad pulled the pillow off my face, shaking his head with a quiet sigh. "I know, baby. I know. But the northern pack borders are too wild right now. I can’t leave the country for two weeks without the Elders throwing a fit."

"So I'm stuck here," I grumbled, sitting up and crossing my arms. "In the same place I've been trapped in for twenty-one fucking years."

"You’re not trapped, and you’re not staying home either," Dad said, a slow, sly grin spreading across his face. He leaned in, nudging my foot. "We’re packing. Tonight."

I narrowed my eyes. "Where?"

"Malakai Hadid is officially taking over leadership of the southern territory tonight. The welcoming ceremony starts at eight."

I let out an exaggerated groan, throwing my hands in the air. "Oh, fucking phenomenal. A political formal. Just what every girl dreams of on her milestone birthday, watching old men drink whiskey and talk about border patrol."

"Listen to me before you start throwing a tantrum, Mercedes," Dad chuckled, catching my ankle before I could kick him. "It’s not just for the night. Malakai’s new compound sits on three hundred acres of private estate. I’ve already transferred territory duties to my Beta for the entire week. Once the boring speeches wrap up tonight, you and I are staying there until next Friday. Seven days. A real vacation."

I paused, biting the inside of my lip. 

A full week away from home. 

No pack handlers watching my every move, no formal court bullshit after tonight, just a brand-new territory to run around in.

"Does this place have somewhere I can actually relax?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Or am I staring at brick walls?"

"It’s got a private spring-fed lake right behind the main house," Dad said, standing up and smoothing down his charcoal suit jacket. "Now get dressed. We leave in an hour."

- - -

The bass from the speakers was vibrating right through the soles of my heels by the time our SUV pulled through the massive stone gates of the Hadid estate.

It wasn't some dusty pack house. 

It was a brutalist modern fortress tucked deep into the woods, lit up with warm golden outdoor lanterns and filled with hundreds of high-ranking wolves moving across the terraced gardens.

Dad guided me through the crowd, his hand resting warm on my shoulder as people bowed their heads in respect to him. But as we stepped onto the main patio, the sea of black suits parted.

There he was.

Malakai Hadid.

Even in a room packed to the brim with dangerous men, Malakai stuck out like a lion among stray dogs. 

At forty-six, he didn't just walk into a space; he fucking owned it. 

He was broad-chested, towering, dressed in a tailored suit that strained against his shoulders. His dark hair was frosted with silver at the temples, and his trimmed beard was a sharp mix of black and peppered grey. 

He exuded an heavy, suffocating aura of total command, the kind of pressure that made lesser wolves drop their gaze without even thinking.

"Stefan," Malakai’s voice rumbled in a low, smooth, and laced tone with absolute power.

He stepped forward, gripping my dad’s forearm in a harsh, familiar Alpha hold before pulling him into a brief, solid hug.

"Malakai," Dad grinned, clapping his back. "Look at this place. Congratulations, brother. The land couldn't have gone to a better man."

"Appreciate it, man," Malakai said. Then, his heavy, dark eyes shifted.

They landed on me, cutting straight through the ambient patio light like a blade. A slow, polite smile touched his lips, though his gaze was sharp enough to strip flesh.

"Look at you," Malakai said, his deep voice carrying a strange, gravelly weight. "Happy birthday, Mercedes. Twenty-one today, right?"

"Finally," I said, stepping up right into his space, refusing to back down from the crushing weight of his presence. I gave him a slow, mischievous smirk. "Though if my dad had his way, I’d still be locked in my bedroom eating kid meals."

Dad snorted, resting a hand on his hip. "Don't listen to her, Malakai. She’s been a nightmare all morning."

"She’s allowed," Malakai murmured.

His dark eyes lingered on my face, tracing my nose ring, the line of my jaw, then down to the short pixie cut framing my neck, before his expression locked down completely. 

"I actually have a birthday gift for you, Mercedes. I’ll have someone bring it out once the formal introductions wrap up."

"You really didn't have to do that, Uncle Malakai," I purred, intentionally dragging out the old title just to press his buttons.

I caught the instantaneous, faint twitch in his jaw. A dark, dangerous ember flared deep in his irises before he smoothed it over.

"It’s just Malakai now, Mercedes," he corrected softly, his tone laced with a quiet, authoritative warning. "You’re an adult."

"Right. My bad," I grinned, shifting my weight to my hip.

"Keep an eye on the sky tonight, by the way," Dad chimed in, pointing a thumb upward. "Full moon reaches its peak right around midnight. The pack's going to be wild tonight."

"It always is," Malakai agreed, though his eyes hadn't fully left my face.

Within two minutes, the two older men drifted straight into pack politics, debating border treaties, rogue sightings, and territory security. 

My brain instantly went numb. 

I grabbed a flute of champagne off a passing waiter's tray, took a heavy gulp, and looked around at the crowd of fake smiles and stiff tuxedos.

Fuck this, I thought. I didn't come on vacation to listen to old men talk about land rights.

Taking advantage of my dad being dragged into a conversation with a visiting Beta, I took two quiet steps backward, slipping off the edge of the stone patio and disappearing into the darkness of the surrounding estate paths.

The thumping bass and annoying chatter vanished fast, replaced by the cool, night breeze rustling through the pine needles.

The flagstone path gave way to a winding dirt trail that sloped downward, leading me straight out of the manicured yard and into the deep woods. 

After five minutes of walking, the treeline broke open.

A pristine, mirror-like lake stretched out before me, its black water catching the brilliant, glowing reflection of the rising moon. 

It was dead silent out here. 

Crisp, clean, and completely secluded.

"Oh, fuck yes," I whispered.

I kicked off my heels on the small wooden dock, leaning down to dip my fingers into the water. 

It wasn't freezing, it was fed by a warm natural spring somewhere beneath the surface, steam rising lazily into the cold air.

I glanced over my shoulder. 

The main house was a distant glow high up on the ridge. Nobody was going to notice I was gone for half an hour.

Without overthinking it, I unzipped my dress, letting the silk slide down my hips and pool at my feet. I stripped down completely, leaving my clothes neatly folded on a flat boulder near the bank while keeping my ear studs and nose ring intact.

I took a breath and slid into the silky, dark water.

The warmth enveloped my skin instantly, washing away the claustrophobia of the formal party. I kicked out toward the center, plunging my head under and coming up with a deep, long gasp, slicking my short brown hair back from my forehead.

I flipped onto my back, floating effortlessly under the vast night sky. The moon was massive, glowing white and heavy as it crept toward its zenith. 

For the first time all day, I felt completely alive.

I swam in slow, lazy circles for ten minutes, completely lost in the quiet solitude.

Snap.

The sharp crack of a dry branch echoed from the dark treeline near the bank.

I flipped onto my stomach instantly, treading water and narrowing my eyes at the shore. 

"Who’s out there?" I demanded, keeping my voice hard, showing zero fear even as my pulse hitched.

The shadows parted. 

A tall, broad figure stepped into the pale moonlight.

Malakai.

He had shed his suit jacket, and his white button-down was unbuttoned down his chest, the sleeves rolled tightly over his thick forearms. 

He froze dead in his tracks the second his eyes caught me in the water. 

His jaw clamped shut so hard I heard his teeth click.

"Mercedes?" His voice was a low, gravelly rasp. "What the hell are you doing out here?"

Instead of hiding like a scared little girl, I swam toward a smooth, half-submerged rock near the bank, leaning my chest against it to keep myself covered while smirking up at him.

"I was escaping your painfully boring party," I said, letting a lazy, provocative edge slip into my tone. "What are you doing out here, Alpha?"

Malakai let out a heavy, irritated breath, dragging a hand down his face, his fingers catching in the silver-streaked stubble along his jawline. "Getting space before the midnight peak. Your father is looking for you."

"Let him look," I shrugged, resting my chin on my crossed forearms. "I’m actually enjoying myself for once. Nice lake, by the way."

"You're completely naked in open water on an unfamiliar territory, Mercedes," he growled, stepping closer to the water's edge. 

His dark eyes flicked down toward the surface of the water, then snapped back up to my face with brute force as he struggled to keep his gaze locked strictly above my neck. 

"It's reckless as hell."

"I'm twenty-one, Malakai. I can swim, and I can handle myself," I countered, flashing him an unapologetic grin. "Besides, who’s gonna mess with me on your private land? You?"

A low, vibrating rumble built deep inside his massive chest, a knee-jerk Alpha reaction to my blatant disrespect. 

"Don't test me tonight, brat. Get out of the lake and put your clothes on."

"Make me," I shot back, tilting my chin up in defiance.

Malakai opened his mouth to tear into me, but the breath hitched violently in his throat.

Above us, the thick blanket of clouds split down the middle, exposing the blinding, silvery disc of the full moon as it hit its exact midnight zenith.

A suffocating, electric wave of raw power hit the air like a localized explosion.

Inside my mind, my wolf, Zuri, suddenly bolted to her feet, her ears dropping as she let out a deafening, ecstatic howl that vibrated right through my spine.

Mate! 

He is ours!

My heart slammed against my ribs so violently it made me gasp.

On the shore, Malakai staggered back a half-step like he’d been hit in the chest with a sledgehammer. 

His fist slammed into his own sternum, his chest heaving as a deep, guttural groan tore out of his throat. 

The dark brown of his eyes dissolved instantly, replaced by the blazing, predatory amber of his wolf.

The air between us ignited. 

A physical, invisible tether snapped into place, pulling at the very core of my soul, making my blood boil with liquid heat. 

Electric sparks danced across my wet skin, drowning my senses in a dizzying, terrifying wave of instant recognition.

The heavy, intoxicating scent of dark mahogany, Brine, and crushed pine flooded my lungs, wrapping around my throat until I could barely breathe.

I locked my fingers around the cold stone, my breathing shallow, frozen in pure, unadulterated shock as I stared at the towering man standing on the shore.

The twenty-five-year age gap.

His unshakeable loyalty to my family.

The absolute, blind trust my father placed in him.

The bond didn't give a single fuck about any of it.

My throat went completely dry as the brutal, impossible truth crushed down on me.

Oh, no.

Absolutely not.