Mated to the Beta, Wanted by the Alpha

Chapter 2

-IRIS-

I knew what you were thinking. My mate was a cheating asshat, so obviously I wanted to get back at him by kissing his Alpha.

Made sense, right?

Except it was complete bullcrap.

To understand why, you needed to know something that happened ten years ago, when I was sixteen.

Back then, my father and stepmother still didn't know I couldn't shift. All they saw was a weak girl — small, fragile, and inconvenient. So Susan, my brilliant stepmother, decided to send me to a werewolf summer camp. Not to "toughen me up," like she claimed.

No. In her mind, if I couldn't be strong, I could at least be pretty and maybe snag a future husband. That was her life philosophy: secure a man, secure your future.

So off I went to a camp in the middle of nowhere, designed to help young wolves "reach their full potential." They separated the girls from the boys and put us through daily exercises that felt like military training on steroids. It was hell. Especially for someone like me, who had the athletic ability of a damp noodle.

After the first miserable week, I climbed to the top of the stone cliffs to rest my aching muscles and stare at the full moon. I didn't know what I hated more — the camp, the food, the endless drills, or the girls who treated me like a defective toy. So I stayed away from them as much as I could, and this faraway spot was my favorite place to disappear for a while.

That was when I heard the voices.

Men. At least six of them.

They were laughing, but something in their tone made my skin crawl. These weren't the usual camp bullies. They were worse.

I crouched deeper into the alcove where I was hiding, hoping to make myself invisible. Not that it was hard. I was small, thin as a twig, and thanks to my hybrid background, my scent was faint enough to blend into the surroundings. I just prayed it would be enough.

Their footsteps grew louder. Something heavy scraped across the dirt.

They passed, and I should have run back to the girls' camp before someone noticed I was gone. But something inside me told me to stay. So I peeked through the bushes.

Six burly men with military haircuts were dragging a teenage boy.

Covered in grime, bruises, and cuts, he struggled to get free. His hands and arms were cuffed together, and even from several feet away, I caught the sharp, metallic scent of silver.

"The Alpha's right. The boy's too weak," one of them said. He had a thick neck and a nasal voice.

"Oh yeah, Tyler, I saw how 'weak' the boy is. He broke your nose with one jab," the blond one at the edge of the group shot back, and the others burst into laughter.

"I... I wasn't looking. And he hit me with a stone," Tyler muttered.

I followed them from a distance, keeping low. I didn't know the boy, but nothing about six grown men dragging him around felt right.

"But don't you think this is extreme?" the blond one whispered. "How can a father ask people to make his own son suffer more?"

"It's not our job to question it, Lucas. We follow orders," Tyler snapped, and the others muttered in agreement.

And as if that wasn't enough, Nasal Tyler kept kicking the boy with his boot now and then, like he needed to prove something to the others.

They kept walking until they reached the waterfall. From a water source at the top of the cliff, a narrow stream poured down, running toward the valley below. The men tied the boy to a large stone in the middle of the freezing water, careful not to touch the silver cuffs.

Why silver? He didn't even seem to have his wolf yet. And this camp was supposed to be for underage kids, not full-fledged werewolves. It didn't make sense.

After tying him in a way that left him barely able to move, they turned to leave. I hid behind a large rock, pressing myself deeper into the moss-covered side.

I waited until they passed, already deciding I would help the boy. It wasn't fair to leave him stuck in the middle of a freezing stream just because his Alpha father was an ass. I had already met my quota of terrible parenting.

But when I got closer, things got worse. Nasal Tyler, being the coward he was, kept shoving the boy deeper into the water before finally turning to leave. He didn't just want the boy cold; he wanted him gone. Once he was satisfied with himself, he trudged after the others.

I slid into the stream and tried to push the boy up, but I wasn't strong enough. His eyes fluttered open when I brushed his wet hair from his face.

"Hang on," I said, because I wasn't going to let him die.

I ran after Tyler and punched him.

"Come back, you coward! Untie the boy!"

He blinked at me, confused. "Where did you come from, little mouse?" His gaze swept over my baggy clothes and twig-like limbs. He huffed and kept walking. "Go to sleep before a coyote eats you."

Dammit. My dad would be mad at me, but I didn't have time.

So I used my power.

I grabbed the burly man's wrist and drew on his strength. When I felt enough energy to help the boy, I released him, and he collapsed like wet toilet paper.

Fueled by stolen energy, I sprinted back to the stream. Tearing through the ropes was easy now. I dragged the boy out of the water, though the silver cuffs stayed.

He wasn't breathing.

Thank the goddess for those first aid classes. I pressed on his chest, gave him breaths, and finally — finally — he gasped.

I rolled him onto his side, and he coughed up water before settling into a steady rhythm on his own.

"Hey, are you okay?" I asked once he stopped gasping.

He pushed himself upright, blinking up at me with those ridiculously pretty eyes. "W—who are..."

"I'm from the girls' camp," I said quickly. "I'm not with those assholes. They left. Nasal Tyler is... taking a nap somewhere."

He smiled, white teeth bright against his tanned skin, his eyes catching the moonlight like a lover's caress.

Oh. The boy was hot.

"I can't believe this," he said, looking me over in a way that made my face heat up. "I got my first kiss with the most beautiful girl I've ever met, and I was passed out."

My cheeks went from warm to volcanic. I swallowed hard and tore my gaze away from his. "We should get back. Someone’s gonna notice we’re gone."

"I made you uncomfortable, didn’t I? God, I’m such a jerk." He groaned, smacking his forehead. "Thanks for saving me. And sorry for… all that."

"'s okay. I know you didn’t mean it." My teeth sank into my bottom lip.

"Oh, I meant every word." His voice softened. "You’re so insanely gorgeous, I’m still half‑convinced Nasal Tyler actually killed me, and this is heaven."

A laugh escaped me, heat blooming in my chest. "That’s a terrible pickup line."

He leaned in, eyes glowing with mischief. "You laughed. So… do I get another kiss? Or do you only kiss unconscious guys?"

"I don't even know you," I whispered. But something inside me recognized him. Deeply.

Like we’d known each other forever.

He lifted his cuffed hand and brushed a strand of hair behind my ear with a gentleness that made my breath stutter. "I’m seventeen. My name’s Tristan. Nice to meet you, pretty girl."

And under the moonlight, on that cliff, I had my real first kiss.

It was incredible. Clumsy, sure—but full of fire.

Perfect.

Until I felt Tyler’s power slipping away. I knew what came next. My skin paling. My hair losing color.

Before Tristan could see the freak I was, I stepped back.

"Hey—what’s happening?" He blinked up at me, confused, legs still tied.

"I have to go," I said, already retreating.

"When can I see you again?" He tried to stand, fighting the restraints.

"Tomorrow." Another step back. "Meet me here at ten."

"What’s your name?"

He shouted after me, but I was already running down the hill.

That night, lying in bed, nothing could wipe the grin off my face.

Not even the nightmares.