Page 6 of Alpha's Hidden Gem

"It doesn't work that way," I mutter under my breath, my hands tightening into fists.

The weight of my position as Alpha presses down hard, a constant reminder of the responsibilities I carry.

"We have rules for a reason. The safety of the pack, the secrecy of our existence—it all depends on keeping our world separate from theirs."

And keeping me separate from her.

My wolf growls low, agitated, and angry. He doesn't care about the rules. He never has. All he knows is that we've found our mate, and nothing else matters. But I can't afford to think like that. My decisions affect everyone in the pack, not just me.

But she's ours. My wolf whines, frustration and desperation twisting in his thoughts. Ours to protect.

I sigh heavily, feeling the familiar pull of duty against the desire burning in my chest.

He's right.

No matter what complications come with Lila, no matter how impossible this situation seems, I can't deny the overwhelming urge to keep her safe. Even if I can never claim her, I'll protect her. That much, I owe to myself—and to her.

My eyes fall on the inspection report still sitting on my desk.

Taylor Made Pizza. Cute name. Minor but fixable violations.

But something about that inspection won't leave me alone. It had been an anonymous tip that led me there in the first place, something I assumed was just a competitor trying to cause trouble.

Now I'm not so sure. Why her truck? Why now?

And there was that scent—the unfamiliar shifter presence lingering around her truck. My wolf had growled low in my chest when we caught it, a warning I hadn't fully heeded at the time.

There's something more going on here.

Maybe someone's targeting her, my wolf growls, an edge of protectiveness in his tone. Our mate.

I push the thought aside, forcing myself to focus on the facts. I can't let personal feelings cloud my judgment. Even if the wolf inside me is convinced that Lila isn't connected to any of this, I need evidence, not instincts.

Evidence. Always evidence. There's no room for anything else in my life.

Double lives. That's the reality for any werewolf living among humans. And as Alpha, my life is split in more ways than one.

I lean back in my chair, surveying my office at the Millfield Health Department. To the outside world, I'm just another civil servant, dedicated to maintaining public safety. But for me and my pack, this job serves a much greater purpose.

Multiple purposes, my wolf chimes in, his thoughts echoing my own. Territory, secrecy, control.

He's right. As a health inspector, I have access to every corner of this city. I can monitor our territory, detect any signs of supernatural activity, and ensure that our presence remains hidden from human eyes. It's a delicate balance, one that requires constant vigilance.

Last month, during a routine inspection at a new bistro downtown, I caught the scent of something...off. It was faint, nearly imperceptible beneath the aroma of freshly baked bread and rich sauces. But to my enhanced senses, it was unmistakable.

Magic.

Not the benign kind practiced by the local witches' coven, but something darker, more sinister. The kind that could expose our world if left unchecked.

A threat, my wolf growls, his hackles rising at the memory. To the pack, to our secrecy.

I had to act quickly, using my authority as an inspector to gain access to the restaurant's back room. What I found there confirmed my suspicions—a black magic ritual site, hidden beneath the guise of a storage area.

One anonymous tip to the human authorities later, and the threat was eliminated.

It's not always that dramatic, of course. More often, my inspections serve to subtly influence the human world around us. A well-placed violation here, a failed inspection there, and suddenly that new construction project encroaching on our forest running trails is no longer an issue.

I glance at the large map of Millfield on my office wall, the boundaries of our territory marked in red. To human eyes, it's just a visual aid, a way to track my inspection sites. But for me, it's a battle map, a constant reminder of the line we walk between two worlds.