The Alpha Beast’s Mate

The Alpha Beast’s Mate Enemies to Lovers Alpha Shifter Romance Silverbay Wolves Book 1 Sansa Moon Copyright © 2023 by Sansa Moon. All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of the book only. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form, including recording, without prior written permission from the publisher, except for brief quotations in a book review. Contents Chapter 1 - Michael Chapter 2 - Ella Chapter 3 - Michael Chapter 4 - Ella Chapter 5 - Michael Chapter 6 - Ella Chapter 7 - Michael Chapter 8 - Ella Chapter 9 - Michael Chapter 10 - Ella Chapter 11 - Michael Chapter 12 - Ella Chapter 13 - Michael Chapter 14 - Ella About the Author Books by Sansa Moon Chapter 1 - Michael The scraper made a mournful noise against the grill grate as Michael tried to get last year’s residue off. He knew he’d left the work too long. He always left it too long. He also knew it would be better to get a bucket and soak the damn grate overnight, but he wanted to use the contraption for the piece of meat he’d purchased the day prior. His mouth was salivating at the thought of a half-rare piece of rump steak. He was starving, and out of patience. Should he simply go buy a new grate? “Nothing’s open this late on a Saturday,” he muttered to himself, increasingly annoyed with his poor planning. “At least nothing that’s not a forty-minute drive away.” Curse his choice to live outside of the city. Who decided to live in a small town anyway? He should have kept his apartment, stayed where he could have kept his finger on the pulse of everything exciting and new. Then he wouldn’t have even thought to buy a piece of meat himself. He would’ve booked a goddamn table at a goddamn local restaurant, and he wouldn’t be in this situation at all. The house he’d chosen did have something going for it, of course, as it offered a bit of an advantage when it came to the fairer sex. Rather than it being a jump and a skip for them to get home, being located where he was helped when he wished to persuade them to stay late, and then stay so late that it made perfect sense they stay over rather than go through the hassle of getting an Uber. Even the most hesitant women didn’t turn down dinner in a nice, clean house in the small town of Silverbay. And once his cooking was proving him savvy in the kitchen and his imported wine was proving him more than a one-note host, most women tended to loosen up. Of course, his looks didn’t hurt. His broad chest and shoulders, his sharp jawline with just a shade of stubble, his slightly floppy hair that he had to drag a hand through to tame. All these little details served to make a woman pave her own pathway to his bed before dessert had even been discussed. The acceptance of dinner so far out of the city was usually a signal that she was willing even before she saw his neatly kept garden and smelled the cookies that he had made sure to bake prior to her arrival. Women were as horny as men, as long as they liked what they were looking at, and so far, no woman had rejected what he offered. The sound of a car door made him look up from his task, a cloud settling on his brow at the sight of the woman who was walking around her vehicle to the trunk. It was already sliding open to allow her easy access to whatever was inside it. Groceries, perhaps. Some wine, probably. He saw her sitting out on her porch enough nights of the week to know that she enjoyed a glass at the end of her day. When her kid was asleep and she was alone with her thoughts, no doubt. Her name was Ella and they had lived next door to each other for almost five years. She was the only reason he contemplated relocating. She was that much of a nuisance. She bent forward, head and torso disappearing from sight, leaving him a perfectly acceptable view of the gentle roundness of her ass. She was wearing jeans that fit snugly around her curvy hips, displaying strong thighs. When she straightened back up, she shook her head to get her dark-red hair out of her face, making it fall behind either shoulder. She was wearing an oversized striped shirt that, for some reason, made the hinting of the waist and chest that much more intriguing. He was staring. In her arms, she had an enormous bag of planting soil. So, she was spending her Saturday afternoon in her garden. Perfection. He scraped against the grate, hard. Making her turn her head to him the way he knew it would. Her brow was furrowed. “Oh, hi,” she greeted as though he was air that had suddenly taken human form. “Is that something that will occupy you for very long?” she added, hipping the small gate of her front yard open. The heavy-looking bag of soil apparently didn’t bother her. She was surprisingly strong; he could testify to that. They had once had an altercation at a potluck where he had complained that the meat in a casserole was too tough to chew. She had made that particular casserole. And she had not taken kindly to his honest review. There had been a hand against his chest at the end of their argument, and a push that had made him take two steps back. He didn’t like to think about it. Instead, he raked the scraper against the grate as a reply, giving her a friendly smile that she could see the sarcasm behind as clearly as though he had held up a