The ancient records, the forbidden journals, the whispers in deleted files… they were right. Betas aren’t just filler. We’re the foundation, and I’m not broken for craving this kind of closeness. I’m not soft for wanting to soothe and protect. I was born for this role.
I’m a Pack Beta.
And they are mine to keep safe.
Chapter Thirty-One
Knox
We remain in the courtyard as the sun sinks behind the fortress, casting long shadows across the stone.
I work the bag until my arms feel like dead weight. Until my bones rattle with every hit and my knuckles split open, heal, and split again. The pain is grounding. It’s predictable and honest.
Viper stays. Doesn’t say another word to convince me to leave, just braces the bag. He knows I’m working through our conversation.
The thoughts are loud and sharp at first, then dull as bruises. It’s been a lifetime since I’ve had a bruise that lasts long enough to ache, but the one on my heart lingers.
I burn through each emotion, one after the other. I sweat out the rage, bleed out the shame. Let it all rise and boil, then fall quiet again.
I think about every time I snapped at her, punished her. I think about each time her mere presence would push me to my limits until my Alpha roared at me to make her submit. Tomount her, mark her, until she knew her place was on her knees with her cunt around my knot. I think about how I pushed her in training, almost breaking her in the name of meeting metrics.
But I also remember the moments I chose restraint. I made her hot chocolate when the mountain wind howled too loud. I kissed her by the waterfall, slow and careful, even though everything in me wanted more. I walked away when her heat hit, because she wasn’t ready and I refused to take what wasn’t offered freely.
I hold on to those memories like lifelines. Proof that I can be more than a weapon. That softness lives in me, too. It’s not weakness. It’s a choice and I want to choose her, every part of her, with every part of me.
By the time my fists loosen and I drop my hands, I’m still not whole, but neither am I broken.
My self-loathing turns to determination.
Viper’s right. I can learn. Rut, Iexcelat learning. Top of every class, every drill, every goddamn test they ever threw at me. This won’t be any different.
Halley needs her Alpha.
So I’ll become the best version possible. No more excuses or hesitation.
Finally, I have a plan, and I feel like I’m ready to rejoin the Pack.
Viper throws out short quips of encouragement the whole way down the icy hill towards our new den, each one clipped and dry but weirdly comforting.
But I’m barely paying attention.
My brain’s too busy chewing on the apology I owe Halley. Third iteration in, and it still doesn’t sound right. Too stiff and scripted. Too much like the old me who shouted orders and expected compliance.
We reach the den.
Viper pushes the door open, and I step inside first—
And stumble to a halt.
Viper walks straight into my back with a grunt, but he goes quiet too.
“Woah,” he says.
“Is that a…”
“Yeah.”
“And are they…”
