The Beta Who Betrayed Her Pack For the Enemy Alpha

Chapter 5 – The Friend I Can’t Tell

The training circle was already busy when I stepped out onto the packed dirt.

Morning mist clung low to the ground. Wolves moved in pairs and trios—sparring, stretching, laughing between grunts and curses. The metallic ring of steel on steel, the thud of bodies hitting the sand, the chorus of snarls and barks of instruction. This was where I used to feel the most like myself.

Now every sound seemed a little too sharp, every eye a little too curious.

Kessa Wildstep caught sight of me first.

She was in the middle of knocking a taller male on his ass with a dirty sweep he should’ve seen coming. He hit the ground with a grunt, and she grinned down at him before turning that grin on me.

“There she is,” she called. “Our runaway bride.”

A few heads turned. Heat crawled up my neck.

“Funny,” I muttered, grabbing a practice staff from the rack.

She jogged over, braid swinging down her back, clothes already damp with sweat. Kessa always looked like she was halfway between a fight and a joke.

Up close, I could see the tightness around her eyes.

“You okay?” she asked under her breath, falling into step beside me. “You looked like you were about to faint last night.”

“Didn’t faint,” I said. “Just didn’t sign my life away for once.”

Her brows shot up. “Yeah, about that.” She nudged my shoulder with hers. “You planning to tell me what the hell that was, or should I just keep making up wildly dramatic theories?”

“Depends,” I said. “Are your theories entertaining?”

She snorted. “So far I’ve got: one, you realized you’re secretly in love with me, not Eryx. Two, you had a vision from the Moon that he snores. Three, you’re pregnant with triplets and panicked.”

I choked. “What?”

She grinned. “Hey, I said wildly dramatic. Come on, Greyfang.” She swung her staff, tapping mine. “Spar and spill. You know I don’t fight well without gossip.”

Jarek Ironhide’s bark cut across the circle. “If you two are done flapping your jaws, you can prove you still remember which end of that stick is dangerous.”

He stalked toward us, broad and grim as ever, scars silver against his brown skin. His dark eyes flicked from Kessa to me, lingering a beat too long.

“Pair up,” he ordered. “Three rounds, no mercy. Beta candidate versus Beta candidate’s loudest cheerleader. Let’s see if loyalty makes you slow, Kessa.”

She flashed him a jaunty salute. “Yes, Gamma.”

We moved to the center circle. The other pairs eased back to give us room. A few wolves murmured; more than one gaze slid to me with thinly veiled curiosity.

First I humiliate myself at my engagement party, now I get a spotlight here. Perfect.

Kessa spun her staff lazily. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Jarek blew the short horn that signaled start.

Kessa came at me fast, as always—no feeling-out phase, just a straight lunge aimed at my ribs. I blocked, wood cracking against wood, the impact shuddering up my arms. Muscle memory took over where my scrambled brain couldn’t.

We fell into the familiar rhythm: strike, block, pivot, feint. Her footwork was still a hair sloppy on her left side; my shoulder still twinged if I overextended.

“Left’s open,” I said, breath puffing. “Tighten your guard.”

“Don’t coach me mid-fight,” she panted back, swinging for my knee.

I ducked, swept, nearly took her legs out. She recovered with a laugh.

“Gods, you’re jumpy,” she said as our staffs locked overhead. “What happened, Lyris?”

Sweat slid down my spine. The circle, the eyes, Jarek’s watchful stare from the sidelines—it all pressed in.

“Changed my mind,” I grunted, shoving her back. “Decided maybe I’d like to read what I’m signing before I die for it.”

“Morbid,” she said, circling. “You’ve been weird for weeks. More than usual.”

I feinted left, struck right. She parried, barely.

“You’ve been disappearing from patrols. You stare at Eryx like you’re trying to set him on fire with your eyes. You barely sleep.” She punctuated each point with a jab. “Talk to me.”

I swallowed hard. I died, Kes. He killed me. They all let it happen. The words burned my throat and stayed there, suffocating.

“If I told you I had a bad feeling—” I said instead, dodging a sweeping strike. “About the contract. About some of the rites. Would you trust me?”

She frowned. “I always trust you.”

I saw the opening an instant before she did. Instead of exploiting it, I stepped back.

Jarek’s shout cracked across the circle. “Don’t you dare hold back, Greyfang. She’s not a pup.”

Guilt flushed my face. Kessa lunged, angling her staff toward my shoulder, sharper than before.

“Then trust that I’m not just being dramatic,” I said, knocking her weapon aside. “Something’s wrong, Kes. With the Council. With Serapha. With… things in the infirmary.”

“Eryx?” she demanded, brows knitting. “You think Eryx would hurt you? Hurt the pack?”

“I think,” I said carefully, “that we’ve all been trained to not ask that question.”

She hesitated. My staff caught her thigh. She grunted, staggered, then came back in harder.

“You’re scaring me,” she said. “Use words, not Beta riddles.”

“I can’t.” Panic clawed up my throat. If I started talking, really talking, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stop. And if she didn’t believe me—

You’ll lose her now instead of later.

I feinted high, then spun low, sweeping her legs. This time she went down hard, back slamming into the dirt. I planted the end of my staff at her throat, chest heaving.

The horn blew.

Kessa lay there for a heartbeat, staring up at me, eyes dark and searching.

“Get up,” Jarek called. “Again.”

“Give us a second,” she snapped without looking away.

I eased the staff back and offered her a hand. She took it, letting me haul her to her feet. We stood too close, foreheads nearly touching.

“You’re my pack,” she said quietly, so only I could hear. “You get that, right? Whatever this is, if you fall, I’m falling with you.”

My grip tightened on her fingers.

“I don’t want you to fall,” I whispered. “That’s the problem.”

Her eyes flashed. “You don’t get to decide that for me.”

Jarek barked, “Round two!”

She let go of my hand and spun her staff back into position, jaw set.

“Fine,” she said. “Don’t tell me everything. But don’t you dare shut me out and call it protection. I’ll haunt your ass if you die on me, Greyfang.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and raised my weapon.

“I already did,” I thought.

Out loud, I just said, “Then I guess I’ll have to stay alive.”

We clashed again, wood on wood, sweat and breath and grit. Around us, Mistveil trained like nothing was wrong.

And I kept my ghosts locked behind my teeth, where they couldn’t drag Kessa down with me.

Not yet.