Beta and the Beasts

01 │MATE

I slowly climbed up the edge of the bridge, each step feeling heavier than the last, as though the very act of moving forward was a test of my resolve. The night was still, almost unnaturally so. No cars rumbled in the distance, no voices echoed through the air—just me, the bridge, and the quiet hum of my thoughts. The cold metal under my hands felt unforgiving, a reminder of the decision I was about to make.

Reaching the top, I peered over the edge. The river below stretched endlessly, its dark surface rippling faintly under the pale moonlight. The height was perfect. One jump, and it would all end. No more pain, no more loneliness. The thought was oddly comforting, like a lullaby that promised rest after years of sleepless nights.

I leaned forward slightly, testing the weight of the void in front of me. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, but the dominant feeling was exhaustion. I had grown so tired of life. The endless struggle, the constant disappointment—it was all too much. No one will miss me. I had no family left, no friends who truly cared. My life felt like an empty shell, a hollow existence filled with echoes of past failures.

“What’s the point of living if every day feels like this?” I murmured, my voice barely audible over the whisper of the wind.

I closed my eyes, letting the cold breeze kiss my face as I steadied myself on the ledge. The decision felt final, unshakable. My chest tightened, not with fear, but with a strange sense of relief. Finally, I will be free.

But then, just as I prepared to let go, a voice shattered the silence.

“Don’t go through with it.”

I froze, my heart hammering in my chest. The voice was soft yet commanding, carrying a weight that made my resolve falter. I spun around, searching the empty road behind me. There was no one there. The bridge was as desolate as it had been moments ago, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone—or something—was watching me.

“Who’s there?” I called out, my voice trembling.

Silence.

I shook my head, trying to dismiss the lingering unease. "You’re imagining things, Cassie," I whispered to myself. "Focus. Just get it over with."

But the voice had stirred something inside me, a crack in the armor of my despair. My hands gripped the railing tighter as I hesitated, torn between the weight of my decision and the inexplicable feeling that someone, somewhere, cared enough to intervene.

“Cassie,” the voice came again, this time softer, almost pleading. “Please, don’t.”

My breath hitched. How did they know my name? My eyes darted around, desperate to find the source, but there was nothing—just the empty bridge and the murmur of the river below.

“Leave me alone!” I shouted into the void, my voice echoing back at me. “You don’t understand. No one does.”

I turned back toward the water, determined to silence the voice for good. My hands trembled as I whispered to myself, "It’s time. You’ve come this far. No turning back now."

And then I jumped.

The air rushed past me in a chaotic blur, the fall both terrifying and oddly liberating. The icy water embraced me with a force that knocked the breath from my lungs. Everything was cold, dark, and silent. For a moment, I felt nothing but the sinking pull of the water dragging me down.

But then, images began to flash through my mind—memories I had buried long ago. Laughter, warmth, the sound of my mother’s voice.

“Remember, my child, you are important no matter what happens in this world. Promise me you’ll keep fighting, no matter how hard it gets.”

Her words hit me like a jolt of electricity. Tears mingled with the freezing water as an overwhelming urge to live ignited within me. I didn’t want to die. Not like this. Not now.

I thrashed against the current, my arms flailing as I fought for the surface. My lungs screamed for air, but my strength was fading fast. The river was relentless, pulling me deeper with every second. Panic set in as my vision blurred, the edges of consciousness slipping away.

Then, through the haze, I saw a shadow cutting through the water. A hand reached out, strong and determined, grasping mine just as I felt myself slipping into darkness.

“Hold on!” a voice yelled, firm and real this time.

I couldn’t see their faces, but the grip on my hand was enough to anchor me. I clung to that touch, to the hope that maybe—just maybe—I wasn’t as alone as I thought.

As I slipped in and out of consciousness, one thought echoed in my mind. 'Maybe life isn’t done with me yet. Maybe I am done with life.'

And then, everything went black.

I woke up with a jolt, my body trembling uncontrollably. A strange sensation coursed through me, pulling me out of the haze of unconsciousness. My eyes fluttered open, but before I could make sense of my surroundings, a fit of coughing wracked my chest, leaving me gasping for air.

It was then I noticed him—a man I didn’t recognize—carrying me in his arms. His grip was firm but oddly gentle, as if he feared breaking me. Panic surged through me, and I struggled wildly to free myself, my voice breaking as I shouted, “W-Who are you?! What did you do to me? Put me down!”

His expression remained calm, but his deep voice cut through my panic like a blade. “Is that the first thing you say to the person who saved your life? You didn’t really want to die, so why did you jump?”

The weight of his words hit me like a punch. Saved me? Jump? My mind scrambled to piece together the fragmented memories, but his intense gaze pulled me back to the present.

“Put me down so we can talk properly!” I demanded, my voice a mix of fear and defiance.

“No,” he replied bluntly, without even glancing at me.

I gawked at him, dumbfounded by his audacity. “No? What do you mean, 'no'? You can’t just carry me around like a sack of potatoes!”

My struggles intensified, but it was futile. His strength was far beyond anything I could resist. Yet, it wasn’t just his physical power that left me unnerved. There was something else—a strange, unnameable energy radiating from him, seeping into me with every second I spent in his arms.

“W-Where are you taking me?” I stammered, my voice faltering as unease crept in. “You’re not planning to kill me, right?”

He let out a soft, almost exasperated sigh. “Why would I do that? Didn’t I just save you from the brink of death?”

I bit my lip, unable to come up with a retort. His tone was neither kind nor harsh, but it carried a weight that silenced me. For the first time, I truly looked at him. The moonlight bathed his features in an otherworldly glow, highlighting his jet-black hair and pale, flawless skin. His sharp, sculpted features were almost too perfect, like something out of a dream—or a nightmare.

His eyes, cold and unyielding, stood fixed on the path ahead. They seemed to hold secrets too vast and dark to comprehend. My fear bubbled into paranoia. What kind of man was this?

Finally, he stopped and lowered me to the ground with surprising care. I stumbled back, relief washing over me as my feet touched solid ground.

“Where are we?” I asked, glancing around nervously. The dim surroundings made it hard to discern details, but it felt like we were inside a room—a strange one, at that.

“This is my home,” he said simply, stepping back to give me space.

“Your home?” I echoed, looking around warily. The room was elegantly decorated with vintage furniture, abstract paintings, and a large, inviting bed. It looked like something out of a historical drama, but it was unsettling, pristine, as if untouched by time.

“Why did you bring me here?” I demanded, taking cautious steps away from him. “What do you want from me? Are you planning something—something bad?”

His expression didn’t change. “I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe here.”

Safe? The words felt hollow in his monotone voice. “Why should I believe you? For all I know, you’re some psycho who dragged me here for God-knows-what!”

He sighed, his patience seemingly endless. “If I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn’t have saved you.”

Frustrated by his calmness, I crossed my arms. “Fine! If you’re telling the truth, prove it. Kneel.”

The demand was absurd, even for me. I expected him to scoff or refuse outright. But to my shock, he immediately dropped to one knee, his unwavering gaze meeting mine.

“Are you satisfied now?” he asked quietly.

I stared at him, my brain short-circuiting. “What are you doing? You don’t have to—”

“I told you,” he interrupted, his voice steady. “I won’t hurt you. I would rather die than cause you pain.”

“Die?” I echoed, baffled. “What kind of person talks like that? Who even *are* you?”

He rose slowly, his towering figure casting a shadow over me. “You’ll understand soon. For now, you need to rest.”

He turned to leave, but before I realized what I was doing, I reached out and grabbed his arm. The moment my hand touched his skin, a strange, electric sensation surged through me. It was powerful, almost overwhelming, and it left me frozen in place.

He looked back at me, his voice low and serious. “I’m your mate.”

Those three words echoed in my mind, leaving me stunned. My grip slackened as I stared at him, the world spinning around me. 'Mate?' What did that even mean? What had I just gotten myself into?