Chapter 5
719 Words
Beta Garrick and I slice through the roads outside our pack lands like the night is a racetrack built just for us.
His lime, green bike is a loud streak in the dark, practically glowing every time we pass beneath a streetlamp. The colour reflects off the pavement in flashes of neon green before disappearing back into shadow. Mine is the opposite, black, low, and quiet, swallowing the shadows instead of standing out. He loves being seen. Where Beta
Garrick rides like he wants the entire world to see him, I prefer slipping through the night unnoticed.
He had microphones fitted into our helmets months ago. Most wolves don't need that kind of thing mind-linking makes talking effortless. But I don't have a wolf yet, and he taught me to ride way before any human law said I should be near a bike, so we settled for tech instead of telepathy.
"Left up here," Beta Garrick's voice buzzes in my ear. "I'll show you your route for tomorrow."
I lean into the turn without any hesitation and follow him, tyres gripping the road as we weave through narrow bends and long, empty stretches. The engines roar briefly before settling into a low, steady hum as we straighten out again
The ride is smooth and quiet. Just the two of us carving through winding forest roads and long stretches of empty asphalt. No traffic. No noise beyond the engines and the rush of wind against my jacket.
It's peaceful.
After about twenty minutes, we roll to a stop just outside the border gates of Red Moon Pack.
Even from this side, the place has a vibe, colder air, heavier silence, as if the trees themselves are standing straighter. Their scent markers are sharper too, a mix of pine, iron and unfamiliar wolves.
"You'll be cleared to enter tomorrow," Beta Garrick says, nodding toward the gate. "Just ride straight through the town, stay on the main road. You won't miss their pack house. It's huge."
"What, bigger than ours?" I ask.
"Way bigger," he says. He shuts off his engine and swings one leg over the bike, removing his helmet as he speaks.
"Alpha Theron has four sons, plus his daughter."
"Four?" I let out a low whistle. "That's a lot of testosterone. Which one ends up Alpha?"
"All of them," he replies. "They're quadruplets."
I blink inside my helmet. Of course they are. Why have one drama, prince when you can have four matching ones?
We don't head home immediately. Instead, we ride for another hour or so, looping past sleeping towns and quiet stretches of forest. On the way, Beta Garrick fills me in on Red Moon's reputation, especially their four future
Alphas. Apparently, the boys are well, known. Charming, Dangerous. Rich. Handsome and according to Beta Garrick they flirt with anything that smiles at them and drink like it's a profession.
The Red Moon Pack has strong warriors, a strict Alpha, and four heirs who act like the Goddess personally wrapped the world up and handed it to them with a big red bow on it.
It's... disappointing, honestly.
I have always been stubborn when it comes to the idea of a mate. Not because I believe I am better than anyone else, but because the bond means something to me. Even without my wolf, even without feeling that instinctive pull others talk about, I understand what it represents. A mate is not a convenience or a prize to be claimed when the time suits. It is a promise written into the very core of who we are.
The bond is sacred. It is trust, loyalty, protection... belonging.
Yet not everyone treats it that way. Some wolves move through life as though their mate is simply an optional addition, something they will consider when they are finished chasing temporary pleasures. They forget that when the Goddess creates a bond, she does not create it lightly.
I do not need a wolf to know that love should never be treated like an afterthought.
So wherever he is, whoever he may be, I hope the one meant for me understands that loyalty is not a game. It is a choice. A constant one.
And I refuse to give my heart to someone who would treat something sacred like a joke.
- Writer
