Chapter 39: The Family Alpha

Amelia's POV

I couldn't stop the stupid grin from spreading across my face as Mom practically tackled me with a hug that nearly knocked me off my feet.

"You got the job! Congratulations, sweetheart!" Her eyes were bright with pride, something I hadn't seen in months.

"I did," I nodded, carefully omitting the company name. No need to mention Westbrook Industries and send her anxiety through the roof. "It's an entry-level research position, but the pay is really good."

Mom released me but kept her hands on my shoulders, her smile dimming slightly. "You should be enjoying college life, not worrying about keeping this family afloat."

"It's just part-time," I assured her. "Besides, Nathan said in his letter that I'm the 'family Alpha' now." I tried to make my voice deeper, mimicking my brother's serious tone. "I've got responsibilities."

Mom's laugh didn't quite reach her eyes. "Three months away, and he's still trying to boss you around."

"Nine more to go," I said quietly.

The silence that followed felt heavy. Nathan's absence had left a void in our home that neither of us knew how to fill. Being sent to the border to monitor Richard's movements was essentially exile disguised as duty. All because he'd tried to protect me.

"I'm going to keep this place running until he gets back," I said with more confidence than I felt. "When he walks through that door, he'll be shocked to see we didn't burn the house down without him."

Mom's eyes glistened. "I'm grateful to have children like you and your brother. Even if you're both stubborn as hell."

"Wonder where we got that from," I teased, making her laugh again, genuinely this time.

That night, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, turning Isabelle's words over in my mind. "The stronger his reaction to you, the more conflicted he is inside." Could she be right? Did Alexander actually care about me despite everything?

I closed my eyes, memories flooding back unbidden. Alexander appearing in the forest that night, saving Nathan and me from Daniel's claw. The way he'd stepped between us with such authority, his power radiating through the clearing.

And then... that moment under the moonlight on my eighteenth birthday. The strange pull I'd felt, the uncontrollable urge that had me pressing my lips against his before I even realized what I was doing.

My cheeks burned hot at the memory. God, I'd actually kissed Alexander Westbrook—my sworn enemy, my brother's boss, and apparently, my fated mate. And now I was going to be working in his building, possibly seeing him every day.

I rolled over, burying my face in my pillow. Whatever happened between us, whatever he felt or didn't feel, I needed this job. For Mom. For Nathan. For myself.

Saturday morning found me in the downtown shopping district, hunting for work-appropriate clothes. The memory of my interview at Westbrook made me cringe as I fingered an expensive silk blouse. I'd shown up in my best outfit – which, in retrospect, screamed 'college student' rather than 'job seeker.'

Even worse was the whispered gossip I'd overheard while waiting to be called into Alexander's office. The pack members working there had a field day speculating about me.

"Why would Mr. Westbrook interview her personally?"

"Maybe she's a Westbrook bastard we don't know about."

I grabbed the silk blouse, along with two pencil skirts and a pair of tailored pants. After a moment's hesitation, I added a pair of sensible black heels to my pile. The saleswoman assured me they were "beginner-friendly." I wasn't convinced.

Back in the fitting room, I stared at my reflection. The clothes transformed me from college student to young professional, but they also felt like a costume. The waistband of the skirt dug into my sides, the blouse's collar felt like it was choking me, and just standing in the heels made my calves burn.

After paying for my new wardrobe, I pulled out my phone and dialed.

"Isabelle? It's Amelia. About that gift we discussed... I think I need your help."

"Finally decided what to get the big bad Alpha?" There was a smile in her voice. "Tell me you're not just getting him a coffee mug that says 'World's Most Intimidating Boss.'"

"I've got something in mind," I said mysteriously. "But I may need your help with it..."

"Ooh, being cryptic. I like it." I could practically hear her mind working. "No problem at all, as long as I can be of help."

"Love you. By the way, I want to give it to him on my first day."

"Look at you, playing pack politics like a pro," Isabelle teased. "Must have been all my excellent advice."

"Your excellent advice is why I'm also calling about these heels I just bought. I'm pretty sure they're instruments of torture disguised as shoes."

"Oh honey, welcome to womanhood. Come over tomorrow—we'll practice walking in them until you stop looking like a newborn deer."

Sunday afternoon, I was standing in Isabelle's living room, which she'd transformed into a makeshift runway. "Smaller steps! And stop looking down at your feet," she commanded, circling me like a drill sergeant. "Shoulders back, chin up."

By evening, I'd graduated from "newborn giraffe" to "slightly tipsy adult" in Isabelle's assessment. My mysterious gift arrived as promised, exquisitely crafted exactly as I'd envisioned.

"He'll appreciate this," Isabelle assured me as she helped wrap it. "And if he doesn't, well..." She grinned wickedly.

"Isabelle!

"Just saying, always have a Plan B."

Monday morning arrived with infuriating speed. I woke before my alarm, stomach in knots. First day at Westbrook Industries. First day working in the same building as Alexander.

The carefully wrapped gift box sat on my dresser, a reminder of my obligation. Of promises made in blood.

I showered using scent-neutralizing soap – a standard practice for women working in professional settings. Standing before the mirror, I transformed myself piece by piece. Hair pulled back into a neat bun. Minimal makeup. The silk blouse, buttoned to a respectable height. The pencil skirt. And finally, those damned heels.

Mom was waiting in the kitchen when I came downstairs, a cup of coffee already prepared exactly how I liked it.

"Look at my girl, all grown up," she said, her voice catching.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small fabric pouch on a thin leather cord. "This was your grandmother's. She said it brought her luck."

I took the tiny charm, running my thumb over the embroidered protection symbols. "Thanks, Mom."

"She'd be proud of you. We all are." She kissed my forehead. "Even if you're growing up too fast."

The bus ride downtown seemed both eternal and far too short. I kept rehearsing what I'd say to my new supervisor, mentally reviewing the company hierarchy I'd memorized, and practicing the breathing techniques that kept my emotions – and my eye color – under control.

Inhale four counts. Hold seven counts. Exhale eight counts. Repeat until you stop feeling like you might shift in the middle of a crowded bus.

Westbrook Industries' headquarters came into view – sixty floors of gleaming glass and steel, the company logo emblazoned at the top like a declaration of power. My heart rate doubled.

As I stepped off the bus, wincing as my heel caught in a sidewalk crack, a faint tingling sensation brushed against my consciousness – the whisper of a familiar presence. My wolf stirred in response.

Alexander was in the building.

I clutched my grandmother's charm, squared my shoulders, and walked toward the entrance, focusing on Isabelle's instructions. Smaller steps. Chin up. Look confident even when you're not.

Time to prove what this Omega was made of.

Welcome to the lion's den, Amelia. Try not to get eaten alive.