The Beta's Blood: Rewritten

Chapter Eight

The drive north stretched endlessly, each mile another thread unraveling the distance between who Ace had been and who she was becoming.

It took nearly five days to reach the northern border. Five days of winding roads, whispered silences, and uneasy peace. Felix’s frequent detours stretched their journey, but each stop brought small mercies. In forgotten towns and pine-scented forests, he insisted they rest.

Sometimes they let their wolves run beneath starlight, paws drumming over soft earth, hearts pounding. Sometimes they found diners where humans smiled without suspicion, where Ace could drink coffee too sweet and laugh too loud.

By the time they crossed the border, exhaustion weighed heavy on her bones, but the northern lands were breathtaking. Mountains loomed ahead, their peaks kissed by frost and snow even in late summer. As dusk descended, the world softened into blue and silver.

Ace shivered. The air here carried an edge that cut through her thin shirt. Still, something about the place tugged at her memory. The cobblestones, the curl of ivy climbing the stone walls, the faint hum of distant waterfalls. She had been here once, long ago.

Felix parked in front of a small inn tucked between two shops, its wooden shutters half-open, its sign faded by years of snow. He turned off the engine, glancing toward her. “Home stretch,” he said quietly. “Almost,” she murmured, gaze lingering on the mountains.

Inside, the room smelled faintly of old wood and lemon polish. Cream wallpaper peeled slightly near the ceiling. Quilted bedspreads covered the single beds, their patchwork colors faded but comforting.

Ace drifted to the window, drawn by the view. The mountain range stretched across the horizon, haloed by the last rays of sun. “It’s beautiful here,” she said softly.

Felix came up behind her. For a heartbeat, she thought he might touch her waist, the way he always did. His hand hovered, his warmth brushing her skin without ever making contact. Then, just as quickly, it was gone.

“I’m glad you think so,” he whispered. Then, he laid his hand on her head, gentle and cautious, as though afraid to startle her. Her lips curved in a small, fragile smile. Each day with him, the ache in her chest dulled just a little. But they still hadn’t spoken about everything... about Jameson, about the night she’d fled.

“I’m meeting someone for dinner tonight,” Felix said casually. His tone was neutral, but there was a spark in his eyes. “Someone?” She asked, turning to face him. “Who?”

Felix chuckled at her sudden curiosity. “Your grandmother.” Ace blinked. “Wait... what?” Her voice came out higher than she meant it to. He laughed, and for a moment it felt like old times. “We’re here. This is the town before you reach the pack lands.”

Her breath caught. The familiarity of the place clicked all at once... the scent of northern pines, the chill in the air, the cobblestone streets. Memories of childhood visits flooded back. Her grandmother’s garden full of moonflowers, the taste of honey tea, laughter echoing in the old cabin.

“Of course I’ll come!” she said, a real smile blooming across her face for the first time in what felt like years. Felix smiled too, softer now. “I thought you’d say that.” He handed her a light cream sweater from his suitcase, and she slipped it over her shoulders before hugging him quickly, unable to contain her excitement. His arms tensed for a fraction of a second before he returned the embrace, gentle and brief.

They left the hotel just as the streetlamps flickered to life, pools of golden light spilling across the cobblestones. The night smelled of woodsmoke and distant rain. Laughter drifted from open tavern doors, mingling with the rush of the nearby river.

Ace felt lighter than she had in weeks. She found herself laughing at Felix’s easy teasing as they walked side by side. Their pace was slow, unhurried, their shoulders brushing now and then.

“Are you nervous?” Felix asked after a while, glancing sideways. “To see my grandmother?” Ace tilted her head, brow furrowed. “No. Excited, actually.” “Good,” he said with a small smile. “She’s missed you.” The warmth in his voice made her chest tighten.

The restaurant glowed like a jewel in the heart of town. It was an Italian place with rustic beams and candlelight flickering inside glass globes. The scent of basil, garlic, and roasted tomatoes enveloped them as they stepped inside.

Felix’s hand rested lightly at the small of her back as he guided her through the tables. The contact was innocent, instinctive but Ace still felt the jolt of awareness travel up her spine.

Then she saw her. A silver-haired woman sat waiting in a corner booth, posture straight, eyes bright with recognition. “Grandma!” Ace’s voice broke with joy as she rushed forward.

Her grandmother rose with surprising grace, her laughter bubbling warm and free. “It’s been too long, my dear.” She cupped Ace’s face between her hands, studying her with fierce affection. “You’re even more beautiful than your mother said.”

Ace’s throat tightened. “I’ve missed you so much.” When her grandmother’s gaze lifted to Felix, the older woman’s expression softened into amusement. “And you must be Felix. Last time I saw you, you were knee-high and chasing Ace through my daughter's back yard.”

Felix’s lips curved into a boyish grin. “Yes, ma’am. Guilty as charged.” Her grandmother swatted his arm affectionately. “None of that ‘ma’am’ nonsense. Sit, both of you.”

The meal passed in a haze of warmth and nostalgia. They shared laughter, family stories, and plates of steaming pasta. Felix seemed at ease, joking lightly, his eyes glinting in the candlelight.

For a few precious hours, Ace felt normal again. Just food, laughter, and love. Halfway through dinner, her grandmother set down her fork and regarded them both with quiet intensity. “You’re probably wondering why I didn’t have you come straight to my house,” she said.

Ace blinked. “I figured you were busy.” The older woman smiled faintly. “That too. But there’s another reason. My Alpha likes to meet all newcomers personally. It’s our tradition. He couldn’t tonight, pack matters, but tomorrow morning, he’ll see you both.”

Felix stiffened almost imperceptibly. “That’s generous,” he said smoothly, though his tone held caution. “Most Alphas aren’t so… personable.” Her grandmother chuckled. “Ours is different. You’ll see.”

Ace’s unease grew, faint but insistent. “You told him why we’re here?” “Of course,” her grandmother said. “We don’t keep secrets in this pack.” Felix’s fingers brushed Ace’s wrist under the table, a subtle reassurance. “Don’t worry,” he murmured. “It won’t be a problem.” He hoped he was right.

When dinner ended, her grandmother refused to let them pay. “You’re my guests,” she declared, pressing the card back into Felix’s hand before rising. “Tomorrow will be a new start for you my dear, maybe for both of you.”

Ace watched her go, heart full and heavy all at once. Outside, the air was crisp. The moon hung low over the rooftops, bathing the cobblestone streets in soft light.

“I can’t believe I finally got to see her,” Ace whispered as they walked back toward the hotel. “It feels like a piece of me I forgot I’d lost.” Felix nodded, his gaze fixed ahead.

After a beat of internal conflict, he gave in and reached for her hand, his thumb sweeping over her knuckles slowly. “Family has a way of doing that,” he said. “Reminding us of who we are… and who we’ve been.”

Ace looked up at him, studying his face. There was something there she hadn’t seen before... hesitation, maybe fear... but he masked it quickly behind his usual calm. She wanted to ask, to press, but the words stuck in her throat.

They reached the hotel steps. The mountains loomed beyond the rooftops, their snowy peaks gleaming faintly under moonlight. “Tomorrow brings a new start… and we meet Grandma’s Alpha,” Ace said softly, almost to herself. Felix squeezed her hand. “Tomorrow,” he echoed, though uncertainty tugged at his voice.

And though neither said it aloud, both felt the same uneasy truth settle between them. Tomorrow could change everything.