The Alpha’s Fated Choice (Alpha's Fated Encounter Trilogy #1)

Sophia Hope

Rita’s words eat at me for the next couple of days.

It’s not that I believe Alex is my fated mate. But does Rita think me, of all people, possibly finding my fated mate will not be accepted by the shifters in this town? That idea makes me feel lonely inside. I’ve never dreamed of finding anyone to love me, much less my fated mate, but the thought that this town doesn’t consider me worthy of love because I don’t have a wolf is heartbreaking. And the fact is, Rita might be right. She didn’t say any of this to me outright, but it’s what I assume she meant, and it has been weighing on me.

Fortunately, Mathew scheduled a cage fight for me tonight, so I’m completely focused on that. It’s a nice distraction, but it brings its own slew of problems. I haven’t told Mathew yet about Alex and his group. The only reason I haven’t is because he might decide to kick me out and back out of our deal in order to keep his cage fighting ring from being shut down. The pack security team does not get involved with human affairs; however, if word gets out about a shifter taking part in cage fights, they’re going to investigate. And I don’t think Mathew wants that to happen.

I considered not showing up for the fight, but I need the money. When Mathew comes into my dressing room, I keep my mouth shut.

“You’ll be facing off against one opponent today,” he tells me, closing the door behind him. “The Beaver.”

I blink. “The what?”

“It’s a woman.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets, not looking too pleased. “You know my feelings about female cage fighters.”

While I’m tempted to remind him that I’m also a woman, I understand where his apprehension stems from. Out of the six female fighters I’ve faced so far, four of them were intent on making the entire event some sort of sensual show. The other two were serious fighters, more focused on winning the match than putting on an act.

“She came by to train in the gym,” Mathew is saying. “Quick on her feet, hits hard and fast. Don’t underestimate her. I just hope she sticks to the same energy when she’s in the ring.”

“It’ll be fine,” I reassure him.

He doesn’t seem convinced. With an irate look in his eyes, he says, “If you think at any point that she is dragging things out, just put an end to the fight.”

“Sure,” I shrug. “But you do know that every time you get a female fighter in the ring against me, you make a lot of money.”

Mathew grumbles under his breath, and I hide my smirk.

“Fine,” he growls. “But this is a fight, not a porn show. Just remember that.”

I roll my eyes at him in the mirror as he leaves. When the door closes behind him, I glance at the wall clock. I’ve got ten minutes.

After making sure all of my hair is braided up properly, I put on my mask and adjust the new straps I have added. These were a last-minute idea, just in case somebody tries to unmask me.

Exiting my dressing room, I lock the door and put the key in the small, inconspicuous letter box around the corner of the hallway.

I walk into the arena, where one fight is already going on. The sounds of shouting and hollering are deafening. I can hear a lot more than that: the sound of flesh slapping flesh, the grunts and groans, all of it. I can smell the sweat of the spectators and the blood in the air. I wouldn’t say I’m immune to the scents and sounds, but I’ve gotten used to them.

I wait in the darkness, leaning against the wall, my arms folded across my chest. I can see the ring from where I’m standing. The fighters seem to be equally matched, countering blow for blow. My brow crinkles. Until one of them plays their ace card, this match is going to go on forever. A minute later, the smaller man punches the bigger one under his jaw, making him fall backward. The aggressor doesn’t seem to be done. Uncaring that his opponent is down for the count, he grabs his head and slams his fist against his temple over and over again as the crowd cheers at the violence. My body clenches, but before I can so much as move, Mathew is rushing inside the ring and pushing the smaller man off the larger, unconscious one.

Sounds of boos erupt from the audience, but Mathew ignores them. His voice booms, “The winner for this round is the Storm!”

I watch as the knocked-out man is dragged away and the victor heads for the exit door next to me. He still seems to be revved up because he glances at me and jerks forward, attempting to intimidate me. I just stare at him, not very impressed. In response, he spits at my feet and walks off.

Real classy, I think to myself.

“Next up, we have the Wily Vixen facing off against the Beaver!”

I let out a long breath before I walk into the ring.

The Beaver is a slender woman, and she’s wearing a tank top and a pair of shorts. I always choose to wear a full bodysuit during fights, but I can understand why she would go for those clothes. It’s easier to move in them.

Some of the men in the crowd hoot and whistle, but I tune them out. The woman before me is the picture of professionalism. She doesn’t look the slightest bit fazed at the crowd’s reaction. She seems to be more interested in sizing me up.

We circle each other, with Mathew standing between us, and he says, “I hope you’ve all placed your bets because the fight begins now! The Wily Vixen is a house favorite, and the Beaver seems to want her crown. Ladies, begin!”

I focus on my opponent. True to her name, she’s wearing a beaver mask. My mask is still the cheap one I got from the costume shop years ago. Hers looks expensive. It’s embedded with jewels that look pretty real to me from where I’m standing. This leads me to believe she’s being sponsored by somebody.

The Beaver throws the first punch. I dodge it and, grabbing her fist before she can throw another one, I push her back. With that, the battle begins.