The Bad Boy Beta Wants Me

Hannah By ten thirty on my eighteenth birthday, I had searched every face in the pack hall and found absolutely nobody who made my wolf stir. Mum had called tonight’s gathering the perfect opportunity. Three neighboring packs had come to celebrate our spring festival, bringing dozens of wolves I’d never met. Since turning eighteen meant I could finally recognize my fated mate, I’d spent the afternoon imagining what might happen when I walked through the doors. I hadn’t imagined standing beside the lemonade, pretending I wasn’t checking the entrance every thirty seconds. Anything? I asked Fern. My wolf shifted restlessly inside me. You asked that when the last person arrived. Perhaps you needed another look. He was delivering ice. I took a drink. Across the room, Mum caught my eye and smiled hopefully. I smiled back because disappointing her felt worse than disappointing myself. Then the doors opened again. I looked. Another delivery. Apparently, everyone was getting what they needed tonight except me. ⸻ It wasn’t that I expected my whole life to change on my birthday. Not entirely. I still had school on Monday and a shift at the pack daycare on Sunday. Finding my mate wouldn’t finish my history assignment or stop the children putting crackers into the toy washing machine. But Mum and Dad always talked about recognizing each other as though the world had finally made sense. I wanted to know what that felt like. To be certain somebody wanted me without having to guess. “Hannah?” Mum approached with a slice of birthday cake. She’d insisted we bring one, even though the festival wasn’t technically my party. “You’ve barely eaten.” “I’ve eaten.” “Two strawberries and half a bread roll.” “You’ve been monitoring me?” “Years of practice.” I accepted the plate. Her smile softened as she glanced toward the crowded room. “Nothing yet?” I shook my head. “It doesn’t always happen immediately.” “I know.” Knowing hadn’t stopped me choosing a dress I couldn’t comfortably breathe in. Behind Mum, a burst of delighted laughter rose near the terrace. A girl from one of the visiting packs had both hands pressed to her mouth while a boy stared at her. Then he smiled. She started crying. People gathered around them, already offering congratulations. I looked down at my cake. Mum touched my arm. “Oh, sweetheart.” That nearly undid me. “I’m going to head home.” “Let your father drive you.” “He’s helping clear the supper tables. It’s a fifteen-minute walk.” “I can come.” “Please, Mum. I’m just tired.” She studied me before nodding reluctantly. “Text when you get there.” “I will.” I left the cake on a table by the door. ⸻ Outside, the cool night air felt wonderful against my hot face. Our pack lived around the hall and training grounds, with houses spreading along quiet roads beneath the wooded hills. I’d walked home this way hundreds of times. The music faded behind me as I passed the clinic and followed the pavement toward the bend. I should have been thinking about the fresh air or getting out of my shoes. Instead, I kept seeing that boy’s face. He’d looked astonished. Then happy. I wondered whether somebody would ever look at me like that. We’ve had one evening, Fern reminded me. I know. Then stop acting like we’ve been abandoned. That was sensible advice. I resented it. My phone buzzed with a message from Mum. Home yet? I stopped beneath a streetlight to answer. Nearly. Headlights swept across the bend. I glanced up. The car was coming too fast. I moved toward the edge of the pavement, but its tires crossed the white line, heading straight at me. I jumped backward. My heel slipped over the verge. For one dreadful second, I reached for something that wasn’t there. Then I fell. Wet leaves slid beneath my shoes. My ankle twisted, pain shooting up my leg before I landed hard against the bank. Above me, the engine accelerated. The car didn’t stop. I lay still, staring at the dark strip of sky. Then I tried to move. “Oh, Goddess.” My left foot wouldn’t take my weight. I grabbed at the grass and pulled, only to slide back with dirt under my nails and tears gathering in my eyes. My phone. I searched beside me. Nothing. My little bag had disappeared too. Perfect. Perhaps my mate would find me eventually preserved beneath a layer of leaves. A motorcycle engine slowed overhead. I froze. Then it stopped. “Hello?” I called. Footsteps approached. A figure appeared at the top of the bank. For a moment, he only stared. Then he said, “Ellis?” I knew that voice. Damien Cross. The Beta’s son, two rows behind me in English, and the last person I wanted witnessing this. He crouched at the edge in his leather jacket. “What the hell are you doing down there?” “Having a wonderful birthday.” His mouth curved. “Different choice of venue.” “A car nearly hit me.” The smile disappeared. He looked down the road, then back at me. “Can you stand?” “Do you think I’m sitting here for fun?” “Starting to reconsider.” He slid down the bank before I could answer, catching a branch and landing beside me with irritating ease. Up close, I could smell leather and cigarette smoke. There was a small cut beside his mouth, which seemed about right. At school, he was usually fighting, flirting, or finding a reason to leave. Now I needed him. How humiliating. “Where?” he asked. “My ankle.” He reached toward my shoe. I caught his wrist. “What are you doing?” “Checking.” “Do you know how?” He looked at my hand around his wrist. Then at me. “You can stay here and interview me, or let me help.” I released him. His fingers were unexpectedly careful as he loosened the strap. I gripped the grass when he eased the shoe away. “That bad?” “No. I usually make that face when I’m enjoying myself.” He laughed. I hated that it was a nice laugh. “Where’s your phone?” “Somewhere. I dropped everything.” “Ambitious evening.” I swallowed hard. He looked at my face, and something in his expression shifted. “Hey. We’ll find it.” He crouched beside me. “Arm around my neck.” I hesitated. He raised an eyebrow. “Waiting for your mate to come down?” Heat flooded my cheeks. “Don’t.” “Oh, that’s why you left.” “It isn’t funny.” “You’ve been eighteen for a day, Ellis. Give the poor bastard a chance.” I stared at him. Every hopeful thought I’d had tonight suddenly felt childish beneath that crooked smile. “I’d rather stay here.” “Lie convincingly. Makes it more interesting.” He waited. I put my arm around his neck because my ankle hurt and the ground was cold. He lifted me easily. I held tighter than I wanted to, my face dangerously close to his. “See?” he said. “Already making better decisions.” I decided two things while Damien Cross carried me up that bank. I was going to thank him. And if the Moon Goddess had the nerve to make him my mate, we were going to have words.