The Beta's Blood: Rewritten

Chapter Seventeen

The day that followed felt like it was trying to pull her in two directions at once. Ace filled it on purpose. That was the only way to keep from thinking too hard. She trained in the morning until sweat rolled down her spine and her muscles burned.

She helped Jessica at the community center, folding tiny shirts that still smelled of laundry soap and pups. She ran errands with Grandma Jean, who somehow knew everyone in town and refused to let Ace stay invisible. She even let the younger wolves drag her into impromptu games outside the greenhouse.

Every laugh helped. Every shared story. Every time someone called her name across the square, or waved her over to sit with them, or handed her a basket and said, “Can you take this to the kitchen?” It all reminded her that she was wanted here. That she was slowly stitching herself into the cloth of this pack. And yet. Her mind still wandered home.

To her mother’s kitchen, always too warm, always smelling like rosemary and love. To her father’s firm voice telling her to push forward. To Aaron’s obnoxious commentary on everything. To Felix’s easy grin. She missed them in flashes. Like sharp, sudden stings that came out of nowhere.

But this place…the village carved into the pines, the snowy roofs, the Alpha who didn’t bark and threaten, the women who ran greenhouses and hosted dinners and swapped childcare like it was nothing… this place felt like a home she had chosen.

And that made it even harder. Because for the first time, she wasn’t being told where to belong. She had to choose. So when Sunday came, the day Kai told her to come to his office, her stomach wouldn’t settle.

She’d watched Jessica’s kids the night before, rocking baby Noah to sleep while Letta made her replay the same cartoon three times. It warmed her, but it also hurt. She wanted that.

A family. A future. A mate she could love openly. Wolves didn’t often pick love over the Goddess’s decree, unless it was for power or politics. Ace didn’t want to be bartered. She wanted to be… wanted.

She ran that morning to clear her head. The cold air bit her skin as she jogged toward the pack house, sweat slicking her shoulders despite the chill. Her braid slapped against her back with every step. The mountain air stung in her lungs. Everywhere she looked, she was reminded of why she liked it here. Wolves greeting each other by name, patrols laughing even while on duty, elders waving from their porches. It was simple. Whole. Alive.

But the closer she got to the pack house, the tall timber-and-stone building that seemed to breathe authority, the louder her doubts became.

Can I really stay?

Will Red Forest ever be safe for me again?

Will Jameson ever really let me go?

Will I always carry Felix like a ghost?

She pushed through the front doors and warmth washed over her. The front desk attendant glanced up and gave her a polite, knowing smile. “Good morning, Ace. Alpha will see you now.” That was the only problem with Winter Moon, everyone knew where you were supposed to be.

She took the elevator. The ride felt longer than usual. Each floor dinged with cruel patience, her reflection staring back at her from the silver doors. She had flushed cheeks, hair still a little messy from training, a fitted top and track pants she hadn’t had time to change out of.

When the doors slid open, the long hallway to Kai’s office stretched in front of her like a decision made solid. She knocked. “Come in.” His voice rumbled through the thick wood and she stepped inside.

“Good morning, Ace,” Kai said without looking up immediately. He sat behind his desk, sleeves rolled to his forearms, dark hair slightly mussed like he’d been dragging his hands through it. Papers were spread before him in neat, disciplined stacks. But when he lifted his gaze to hers, it lingered, just a beat too long.

“Good morning, Alpha,” she said, moving to the seat in front of his desk. “I came straight from training, just like you asked.” She tugged at the hem of her top, suddenly self-conscious.

Kai stood, crossed the room, and pushed the office door shut. The soft click sounded louder than it should have. “I would’ve shut it if you asked,” Ace said, brow lifting. “I assumed you would when you came in,” he replied lightly, but his eyes said something else.

Tension slid into the air, familiar now, but still unsettling. He returned to his seat and spun a pen between his fingers. “Have you thought about where you’re headed, Ace?” She huffed out a little laugh. “You do realize I’m eighteen, right? I’m supposed to be confused. Call me at thirty and ask me again.”

His mouth twitched. “You know that’s not what I meant.” Her smile faded. She tapped the arm of the chair. “Yeah. I know.” She inhaled slowly. “I’ve realized I like it here. More than I thought I would. And I can’t keep… hovering. I don’t want to make things harder back home. And I don’t think I can go back without ruining a bunch of lives.”

Kai’s gaze softened, the ice blue of his eyes warming. “I don’t doubt you like it here. But liking something and claiming it are not the same thing.” He leaned forward, elbows on the desk. “You’re at a crossroads, Ace. You can stay. I want you to stay. But I need you to decide what staying means.”

Her throat tightened. “And if I decide to stay?” she asked quietly. “Then you’re part of Winter Moon,” he said without hesitation. “Fully. Not as a guest of your grandmother. Not as a refugee we’re sheltering from Red Forest politics. You swear in, you serve, you hold rank. You become ours.”

The word ours sent a strange shiver through her. She thought of Red Forest, of the pain, of the fear that Jameson’s father could decide she was a loose end. She thought of her parents, forced to pretend. She thought of how seen she felt here.

“Then I choose to stay,” Ace said. The words left her before she could second-guess them. They rang in the office like a vow. Relief washed through her in a soft, warm wave. Beneath it, fear. But it wasn’t the old fear, the one laced with Alpha Kaine and death threats. This was the good kind. The kind that came before doing something brave.

Kai stood. He paced. It was the first time she’d seen him… restless. “Then I’d like to offer you a position here,” he said finally. “A permanent one.” Ace straightened. “Okay…?” “My current Beta has been running business for Winter Moon for years, but he wants to retire. I need someone new.”

Her jaw dropped. “I don’t know anything about corporate finances, Alpha. Unless you need someone to mix drinks or yell at teenagers, I don’t think I’m your girl.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re always so dramatic.”

“You just offered me a Beta position,” she said, eyes wide. “I’m allowed to be dramatic.” He sobered, running a hand across his jaw. “As Alpha, I should be handling more of this myself, but the absence of a Luna has made everything harder.”

“I’m sorry, Alpha Kai,” Ace said at once, lifting her hands. “But I also can’t be your Luna.” He laughed, the sound real this time. “You are cruel, Ace Harbor.” “You survive,” she shot back.

“I wasn’t going to ask you to be Luna,” he said, shaking his head. “Thank the Goddess. You would’ve destroyed what little pride I have left.” “You don’t have a fragile ego,” she said without thinking.

“How would you know?” he asked, amused. “You’re too handsome to be self-conscious,” she said simply. He blinked. Then leaned back, smirking. “Oh? You think I’m handsome?” “I have eyes, Alpha,” she said, letting it linger.

His grin deepened, but his voice when he spoke again was steady, serious. “I want to offer you the position of Beta. But not the way we’ve done it before.” She stared. “Me? Now I know you have other options.”

“You are qualified,” he said, tone brooking no argument. “You are half Beta-blood through your mother and grandmother. You were raised in a high-ranking house. You’ve already integrated into this pack faster than most. They trust you. They go to you. They like you.”

“Liking me is different than following me,” she said quietly. “Not in this pack,” Kai said. “Winter Moon isn’t like the others. Here, rank is bound to ability, not gender, not tradition, and not what other Alphas are doing. If you can do the job, you get the job.”

She swallowed. “But won’t it look bad? An Alpha naming some… stray from another pack as Beta? And a woman?” She shook her head. “Other Alphas will talk.” He met her eyes, ice-blue and unwavering. “This is my pack. My rules. If they want to talk, they can talk.” A slow, dangerous smile curved his mouth. “I’d rather be judged for following my instincts than weaken Winter Moon to follow outdated tradition.”

Something in her thrummed at that. Not because of the power, though that mattered. But because he saw her. Because he didn’t see a broken bond, or a political complication, or “the girl Jameson rejected.” He saw value.

“Think about it,” he said, voice dropping. “This isn’t just a title. It’s work. It’s your hands in the real decisions. It’s your voice in pack matters. It’s being my second.” His eyes softened. “And it’s yours if you want it.”

She sat back, breath leaving her slowly. “You should… probably talk to Felix before you commit,” He said folding his hands together. Ace’s head tilted. “Why would I do that?” She questioned.

“You and Felix aren’t together.” He looked at her curiously. “No,” Ace said, and the old hurt flickered through her eyes. “I messed that up a long time ago.” “Hm.” Kai’s mouth slanted. “You could’ve fooled me when you both arrived. He looked at you like…” He stopped, catching the pain in her face.

“Well. Now the singles outing makes more sense.” She winced. “What about your mate?” she asked carefully. “What does she think of this?” Kai’s jaw tightened. “She has no involvement in pack affairs.” The words were flat, empty of warmth.

“She doesn’t live here?” Ace pressed, brow furrowing. “No.” A cold quiet slid through the room. “Is that why your Gamma is gone so often?” she asked gently. He nodded once, weariness in the motion. “We’re… negotiating things.” It was the first time he’d sounded truly tired.

Ace leaned forward, hands on her knees. “Alpha, if you can’t trust me with your truths, you can’t trust me with this role. I’m not asking to pry. But if I’m going to stand beside you, I need to know what I’m walking into. I need to know how tangled it is.”

The pen slipped from his fingers. He stared at her, something like surprise flickering over his features. Then, quieter: “Same goes for you, Ace Harbor. If I make you Beta, I need your truths too. All of them.”

“You have them,” she said without flinching. Silence settled. Heavy. Not hostile, just full. Ace rose. “Maybe we both need time to think,” she said softly. “Thank you for the offer, Alpha.” She bowed her head, turned, and reached for the handle.

“Wait.” His voice was rough, not fully controlled, and she turned. Kai stood at his desk, the light behind him casting his face in half-shadow. The composed Alpha was gone. In his place was a man carrying too much.

“Please,” he said, voice lower. “Come back in.” She hesitated. Walking away would be smarter. Cleaner. But there was something in his tone, raw and unarmored, that made her step back inside. The door clicked shut behind her. It sounded like the beginning of something neither of them had put words to yet.