Mated to the Beta, Wanted by the Alpha

-IRIS- "Can you make sure the kids don't get worried? Especially Sabrina. You know how anxious she gets when things change." "I got this," Annika says, all calm and sunshine-like, as always. She’s barely twenty, still in training, but honestly? She's the assistant teacher and could run the whole classroom on her own. The kids adore her. I adore her. She’s one of the few people in this pack who doesn’t look at me like I’m a misplaced shoe. "You're the best, hon." I reached for my bag— —and a sharp, twisting pain punches through my stomach so hard my knees almost buckle. Annika’s eyes widened. "Iris, you sure you don’t want to go to the pack hospital? Tessa is amazing. She diagnosed Pete’s ulcer just by looking at his toenails." "I’m fine," I lied, forcing a smile. "Just a bug. Same thing I had last Wednesday." Except it wasn't. It hasn’t been the same for weeks. The pain keeps getting worse, creeping into my days like a shadow I can’t shake. Today, it nearly made me throw up into a box of crayons. "If you need me, mind-link me," she says softly. I nod and head out. Annika’s kindness warms me for a second, but it fades fast. Most of the Redclaw Pack barely tolerates me. I get it. I’m tiny, pale, white-haired, and an omega—basically the opposite of what a werewolf is supposed to look like. But you do have a wolf, Chiara murmured in my head. I ignore her. Talking hurts. After collecting my things, I leave the pack school and head straight for my small place. My cottage sat at the edge of the pack grounds, small and colorful and mine. Mark hated it—called it cramped, outdated, "not fitting for the Beta’s mate." He’d been pushing me to move into the packhouse with him since I arrived six months ago. I told him I’d move after the marking ceremony. He accepted that. Barely. I’d always dreaded the idea of moving into the packhouse. That gigantic, ostentatious mansion with its white columns and overly sophisticated furniture felt like the werewolf edition of the White House. Mark adored it. He spent almost all his free time there. Which is why I nearly choked when I opened my door and found him here, on a weekday morning, no less. In my living room. On my couch. Taking Tyra from behind. Her chocolate skin was gleaming from sweat all over her naked body. Her long, curly hair was wild with movement. Her perfect, curvy body writhed with passion. But it was what I saw inside her dark eyes that scared me the most. They snapped towards me, taking me in when I was frozen at the door. Pity. Smugness. Superiority. Victory. My body trembled. My blood froze. Were my lungs working? "Yes, Mark. Harder," she moaned, still staring straight at me. "Give me what your weak mate can’t." Mark was lost in his desire, but something cut through his haze. His pants were around his knees. His face was a mess of shock and guilt. "I—Iris—," he stammered. His eyes roamed over my face, his gaze filled with the same torment I feel. "You lying, cheating asshole," I choked out. "You said you were going to another pack today!" I was surprised that my vocal cords were working, because my whole body seemed stuck in the doorway. "No, princess. It was not like that." Behind him, Tyra stretched out on the couch like a smug cat. She didn’t even bother covering herself. Her full lips didn't move, but her smirk said everything. "You're nothing, omega. I'm a hot werewolf, and I got your mate." "You said you loved me! Why bring me here to this pack just to humiliate me? The whole mating ceremony was your idea!" I was yelling at the top of my lungs, my fists balled. Mark stopped just in front of me, mouth hanging open, unsure what to do. "I do! I love—" "You know what? f**k this. I'm tired of this s**t," I spat, my voice brimming with hurt and fury. Enough is enough. "I, Iris O'Hara, teacher of the Redclaw pack, reject you, Mark Chase, beta of the Redclaw pack, as my mate." And then, if I thought the pain I was feeling was severe, I was completely mistaken. What I felt before was cotton candy, and now it was broken glass. My knees buckled, and my hands shot to the door frame to keep myself upright. My vision darkened, tiny stars exploding as the noise inside my head turned piercing. After what felt like an eternity, my sight crawled back from the center outward until Mark’s face sharpened again. He was sweating, panting, wearing a feral expression I had never seen before. He opened his mouth, his features hard and furious. "NO!" he roared. "I don’t accept your rejection." "W-what?" Was this a nightmare? I had caught my mate with another woman, and he was clinging to our bond? "Why? You clearly don’t want me!" His eyes softened, regret washing over him. "I do want you. I love you, Iris. I made a mistake. Let me explain…" His hands reached for me, and I stepped back, out of the house. Bile surged into my throat. If he touched me with those hands, I was sure I would vomit. "Please, princess. You belong to me," he pleaded. The nerve. I belonged to him, but he could do whatever he wanted? I straightened my spine, gathering the little backbone I had left. I wasn’t letting this dipshit have the cake and eat it too. "You and I are done. f**k you. Or better, keep f*****g Tyra. I’m out of here." I backed away until I was off the porch. Then I ran. I ran like I had never run before, my wolf pushing me faster. The pack blurred around me, houses and people smearing together like fresh watercolors until everything vanished. I sprinted into the forest, leaves crunching under my feet, branches scraping my skin as I tried to outrun the noise in my head. By the time I reached the cliffs, the sun was high, glowing behind thick clouds. The wind cut through my thin clothes, but the cold inside me had nothing to do with the season. It was the cold of being hollow. How did I end up here? Why couldn’t I find love with my mate like everyone else? I had never belonged anywhere. Not in my old pack, with my absent father and shallow stepmother. They hated me on their best days. I thought I could build a life here. I was wrong. I was an outlier. I would always be an outlier. And I was tired. My eyes drifted over the view, my feet close to the edge. The drop stretched below, the wind rising from it in sharp bursts. I didn’t want to fall. I just wanted the world to stop spinning long enough for me to breathe. What would happen if I jumped? Would I fly as my mother? I didn't have wings. I felt him before I heard him. Like always. "Iris," he said quietly. "Don’t." I turned to face him, the silver sunlight making him impossibly handsome. "You have to let me go, Alpha," I whispered. He closed the distance in a few long strides, stopping just in front of me. His presence hit me like heat after a winter storm, steady and overwhelming. He bent his face down to meet me. He’s so freaking tall. "Even if I wanted, I can’t," he said, voice low and rough. "You know I can’t." His silver eyes were sharper than the wind, full of emotions I refused to name. A gust swept through, pushing a lock of his dark hair across his forehead. My hand lifted before I could think, drawn to him like instinct. That was the plan — just brush the hair away, nothing more — but something in the air shifted. My breath caught. My pulse stumbled. Before I knew it, I rose on my tiptoes, pulling his face down. And I kissed him.