BETA's LOVER

Chapter- Four

PRESENT :

ALISTAIR

The clang of metal filled the gym, echoing off the concrete walls. I watched the bar tremble in Carlos’s hands until his arms gave out and the weight crashed back onto the stand.

“Enough,” I said. The word came out calm, almost lazy, but it had that edge that made people listen.

Carlos lay there panting, sweat dripping down his temple. “You could warn me before you turn into a drill sergeant.”

“You challenged a Beta,” I reminded him, tossing him a towel. “You knew what you were signing up for.”

He laughed weakly, rubbing his chest. “One day, I’m beating you.”

“Train smarter before you try,” I said, twisting the cap off my bottle. “Your lungs still haven’t forgiven that rogue attack.”

He grimaced, the memory dulling his smile. “I’m fine. Don’t start mothering me.”

“I’d make a terrible mother,” I said, smirking. “But a decent coach. Rest before you kill yourself.”

Banter kept them close; teasing kept them loyal. A Beta doesn’t need to shout to hold authority—you just speak like you already expect obedience.

Carlos rolled off the bench and grabbed his bag. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re slow,” I said, voice light. “Go home, rookie.”

He flipped me off without looking back, and I couldn’t help a laugh. The gym emptied fast after that—weights clanking, lockers slamming shut, footsteps fading. For a moment, there was only the hum of fluorescent lights and my heartbeat settling into something easy.

Then the hum inside my head changed.

Alert: rogue attack. Civilians involved.

Austin’s voice hit through the pack-link like cold steel. My muscles tightened before the words even finished.

Update, Arthur’s tone followed, low and measured.

One rogue down. Two humans injured.

My mind cleared the way it always did when danger called; it’s the kind of calm that feels like the space between heartbeats.

Carlos must’ve noticed something in my face. “What’s wrong?”

“Work,” I said, grabbing my shirt. “Session’s over.”

He didn’t argue. Nobody does when my tone goes flat.

Outside, the air hit cold against my skin. I stripped, folded my clothes neatly into the cabinet, and shifted. The world snapped into sharper focus—pine, frost, the distant rhythm of paws. My wolf surged forward, muscle and memory, and I ran. Branches whipped past as I tore through the forest, every scent burning clear. The run wasn’t about speed; it was about clarity. The pack hummed at the edge of my thoughts, connected, breathing as one body. By the time the main building came into view, my heartbeat had steadied into purpose.

I shifted back, pulled on fresh clothes from the cabinet, and climbed the steps to Arthur’s office. He didn’t look up when I entered, but his posture was all tension. I nodded once; he returned it.

“Rogue’s on the way,” he said.

“Any idea who?”

“Feels like one of Deacon’s,” he said, jaw tight.

The name pulled a small chill through me. “If it is, he’s either desperate or he’s bait.”

Arthur rubbed a hand over his face. “Or both.”

Before I could answer, Austin’s voice sliced through the link again: One civilian saw Alpha Cylon shift. Papers in their car—hunter intel.

Arthur’s curse rumbled through his chest. “Knock them out. Bring them here. Everything.”

I was already halfway to the door. “I’ll take the questioning.”

He gave a short nod. “Best.”

The hallway outside smelled of cold metal and disinfectant. My wolf stirred under my skin, restless. Trouble had a scent; this one smelled of smoke and change. I shoved it down and kept walking.

The dungeon always smelled the same—iron, damp stone, a thin bite of wolfsbane that clung to your throat. Russell and Jose were already waiting by the cell door when Arthur and I walked in. They dipped their heads, palms over hearts, the formal respect automatic.

The rogue sat slumped against the wall. Blood dried down his chin, one eye swollen. He looked up when we entered, lips twitching like he found the whole thing amusing.

Arthur crouched. “State your name and pack.”

The man laughed, low and rough. “Why? Planning to send a thank-you card?”

I watched Arthur’s jaw tick. “Why did you attack civilians?”

“For fun,” the rogue drawled, grin spreading.

He wanted to provoke. Typical. I stepped closer, quiet. “You’ll regret that answer.” My tone stayed even, but it carried weight. He felt it; I saw the flicker of uncertainty.

Arthur growled, the sound low enough to make the air hum. “Speak truth before I make you regret it.” When the rogue only smirked, Arthur’s patience snapped. He threw him hard against the wall, the thud echoing through the chamber.

The man laughed again, breathless. “You think you scare me?”

I looked at Arthur. “Let me.”

Arthur met my gaze for a second, then straightened and walked out. His trust was wordless. That’s the thing about our rank—we understand each other without sentences.

Jose handed me the blade already slicked with wolfsbane. I felt its heat through the metal, poisonous and bright. I turned it slowly in my hand. “This burns through flesh and bone,” I said, mostly to the silence. “So talk while you still can.”

The rogue’s grin faltered. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would rather not,” I admitted. “But you left me options.”

"I-I will answ-er," he stuttered,

I spared a look at him and found him smiling like a madman. It made me frown and just look at him.

What if he is just a psychopath? Or sick in mind?

That was enough. I pressed the edge to his thigh—just a touch. The hiss of flesh meeting venom filled the room. His scream came late, torn and hoarse.

“Name,” I said quietly.

“No,” he gasped. The rest dissolved into incoherent muttering before he slumped forward, out cold.

I exhaled, the tension leaving my shoulders like dust shaken off. Violence isn’t satisfying—it’s maintenance. You do it so others don’t have to.

“Keep him under watch,” I told Jose. “Rotate with Russell. No mistakes.”

The corridor outside felt almost clean compared to the cell. Arthur’s voice brushed the link before I reached the stairs. Study. Now.

By the time I stepped into the office, the room was already heavy with unspoken worry. Arthur sat behind the desk, Jazmine beside him, fingers resting on his shoulder. Cylon stood near the window, color drained from his face.

“What happened?” I asked.

Arthur’s look was enough; Jazmine answered instead. “Cylon found his mate. One of the human girls.”

For a second, the words didn’t land. Then they did, and Cylon’s anxiety filled the air like static. “She’s human, Alistair. Human. How do I even tell her what I am? What if she hates me? What if she has someone?”

He looked like a man both terrified and in awe. I almost envied him.

“You’ll figure it out,” I said, leaning back in the chair opposite. “You’ve always been impossible to ignore. That’s half the work.”

He tried to laugh, rubbed a hand through his hair. “You think that’ll be enough?”

“No,” I said. “But it’s a start.”

For a moment the tension cracked; the three of us almost smiled. Then silence folded back over us, thick and uncertain.

I glanced at the clock—past midnight. “If she saw too much, I’ll handle it. We’ll keep her safe until we know what we’re dealing with.”

Arthur nodded, the weight in his shoulders easing a little. Jazmine’s eyes softened; she’d always said I had a talent for steadying people when they needed it.

When I left the study, the cold hit again, sharper now. The compound lights glowed faintly through mist. I paused outside, breathing in earth and frost, listening to the quiet heart of the pack beating somewhere under all that darkness.

People called me Lonewolf like it was a curse. Maybe it was. Years without a mate, years of empty space where the bond should be—it changes a man. You stop waiting for magic and start building yourself out of patience and duty. Still, sometimes the silence hums too loud.

Tonight it felt like something shifting. Fate has a scent, faint and metallic, like rain before a storm. I could almost taste it on the air.

I shoved my hands into my pockets and walked toward the training field. Work was easier than wondering.

Whatever tomorrow brought—the human girl, the rogue’s confession, Deacon’s shadow creeping back—I’d meet it the same way I met everything else: calm first, teeth later.

Because kindness and danger both live in me. And I decide which one the world gets.

🌙🌙🌙