Mated to the Two Warring Alphas

"Beautiful"

NURAYA

༺ ✤ ༻

"Alpha Logan Beasthrope of the West Moon Pack."

My mouth drops open, my mind struggling to believe what my ears just perceived.

The Alpha Logan?

I did wander into his territory by crossing the bridge, but who would have thought that he'd be surveying his borders?

A loud, agonizing roar scoops my attention, and I draw away, hugging my knees tightly to my chest.

Logan's men are fighting the beast. They seem like his elite warriors because they fight with so much ease, yet give the beast a hard time.

Returning my attention to the angelic man standing beside me, I meet a calm outlook, but raging insides. His jaw flexes subconsciously, his chest rising too high, falling too deep.

"Argh!"

I whip my head back to the struggle, surprised to see a significant reduction in the number of guards fighting. Bodies are already littering the grounds that surround the rabid.

Alpha Logan takes a step towards the fight but halts immediately, a dark energy swirling around him. He senses something.

Could it be another?

My heart sinks at the thought of another rabid showing up.

I strain my senses, trying to perceive whatever it is that Logan just did, but to no avail.

Why? Why? Why did I have to be born like this?

I'm about to give up when the sound of approaching hooves invades my hearing. It's not just one, not two—almost a dozen—all approaching our position.

Soon enough, they come into view. An army of half-transformed riders, charging towards us. Amongst the fierce warriors, one stands out. He's still fully in his natural state—except for his eyes. They glow red.

If he's an Alpha too, he can be none other than Alpha Killian of the East Moon Pack. These two are sworn enemies; why are they together?

Killian's group charges past us without even the slightest acknowledgment to Logan. He growls in disagreement but doesn't go after them. If they are here for the beast, then a short alliance might as well be formed.

The beast, on seeing the newly recruited fighters, turns and flees—tail between its legs—into the wilderness.

But this doesn't stop Alpha Killian. He continues riding, leading his entourage forward, chasing the beast into the thicket.

"Savages," Logan breathes, puffing visible smoke from his nose—it’s not even winter!

Finally, he turns back towards me, his eyes softening—the most caring look anyone has ever directed at me in years.

"Are you hurt?" His voice is flat, but it'll do.

I've lost touch with what it feels like to be cared for, for so long, I can't even remember what it is supposed to be.

"Ahem!" I cough out, working my dry throat. "No." My answer is curt.

"Humph."

Hurried footsteps break our contact as one of Logan's soldiers runs to his side.

"How many soldiers did we lose?" Alpha Logan asks in the most monotonous, detached voice I've ever heard—more detached than my father's.

"Ten."

A thick, low growl creeps out of his throat, and the soldier backs away, bowing deeply.

"Was it at least injured?" he rumbles, jaws clenched.

The soldier shivers under the sudden intense dark atmosphere, but he speaks anyway. "I'm not sure, Your Eminence."

Logan shuts his eyes, breathing through his nose.

"Alpha Killian went after it."

"I saw." He tilts his neck slightly. "And I hope he never returns."

I gulp slowly, chewing the inside of my cheek.

Alpha Logan's prayer proves futile as Alpha Killian's horse re-emerges from the woods shortly after, charging back towards the bridge.

The reporting soldier bows again, then backs away.

I take one look at the scowl on Logan's face, and I don't need divine decree to know that this wouldn't be a friendly meeting.

"Logan." Alpha Killian calls even before he makes it to where Alpha Logan is standing, rooted to the concrete floor of the bridge. "I heard your distress signal." He jumps off his horse. "So I came running."

"How very noble of you," Logan grumbles, obviously unimpressed.

"You don't seem very happy to see me." Killian steps into Logan's breathing space. "You hurt my feelings, couz."

Logan's jaw tenses, and he draws in air from the surrounding. "Why are you here?"

"I just said. Are you deaf?"

I gulp again, praying underneath my breath that these two do not start a war right here and now.

Thankfully, that doesn't happen.

Instead, Alpha Killian's neck snaps towards me, his green eyes sharp—locking me in place.

I hug myself even tighter.

He strides my way, a slow mischievous smile creeping up his handsome face.

"And who do we have here?"

I open my mouth to answer, but my voice fails me, my ability to make sounds dwindling beneath his overpowering presence.

"Leave the girl alone," Logan's voice filters from behind him, but he doesn't heed those words.

He stops right in front of me, reducing himself to his knees. With a gentle swipe of his hand, he brushes a loose strand of hair from my face, pushing it behind my ear.

"Beautiful."

His voice is barely audible, but I hear it. I feel it.

The word wraps around me like a type of warmth I haven't known in years. My breath catches. My throat dries up instantly, my hands loosen around my knees.

It's just one word—simple, common even—but coming from him to an outcast Omega like me feels like something else entirely. Like a balm over wounds I've long stopped tending.

After all the cruelty, the names, the way they looked through me like I was nothing... this... this is undoing me.

"Hands off her." Logan's authoritative voice pierces through the moment.

Killian doesn't seem happy about that.

He rises to his feet, fist balled, and aura dark.

"And what gives you the notion that you have a say in what I choose to do with her?" He growls.

Logan remains calm, calculated. "She's not a property, watch how you address a fellow person, Killian."

"Well, Kizil reached out to me, asking that I keep an eye out for a wandering Omega. I think I found her—and she's mine."

Kizil did what? And did he just... claim me?

Logan scoffs, his calm demeanor unshaken, unwavering—as though he’d honed the art of stoicism until it was etched into his very soul.

"You got a letter too?"

I shift on the ground, moving to look at Logan's resting face.

"Too?" Killian is a little mellow now, more accepting.

Logan takes a few steps forward, reducing the space between him and his opponent. "A daughter of my blood has been swept from my hearth by unpleasant circumstances, and I no longer feel her warmth within these walls. Should she cross your path, do not question the goddess for her presence. Instead, I urge you to cast a merciful gaze upon her and remember that a wise Alpha does not turn the frail away—he embraces them."

The words settle between them, heavier than they should.

Killian breathes out slowly, lids lowering. "That does sound like something I read."

"Kizil knew where she would land. And what that would mean," Logan says confidently.

"And what would it mean?" Killian steps forward, getting too close.

He glances my way—briefly. "That I'm meant to keep her."

Killian lets out an unamused chuckle, shaking his head. "It's always the Westerners with claiming what isn't theirs."

Logan's eyes narrow, the blue darkening. "What did you say?"

Killian steps further into him. "That you won't be having this one."

A low grumbling sound creeps through Logan's throat, sending chills down my spine. His eyes immediately turn red, glowing in the most intense way possible.

Killian doesn't flinch. He doesn't move. Instead, he begins his own transformation too, threatening to retaliate—or even, to throw the first swing.

A quick glance around tells that their respective guards aren't looking for a way to stop this. Instead, they are ready to draw fangs and swing claws just like their Alphas.

I don't know how I did it, but it happened.

One moment I'm on the ground, cowering in fear, the next, I'm in between two warring Alphas, palms flat on their chests. The raging rhythm of their heartbeats penetrates through my cold palms, their heart warming me.

"Stop!" I breathe, heaving. "I will go with Alpha Logan."