Fake Dating My Beta Mate

Chapter 1 - Mate

"Where am I?" Monica muttered to herself as soon as she regained consciousness. She was getting sick of waking up in new places, not knowing her precise location as she looked around frantically, wondering whether she was safe, whether her baby was safe. This time, however, that fear was hardly present, as the wolf inside her was content, and at peace. She knew she had found her mate, and thus the days of her suffering were over. Her mate - whoever he was, he would protect her, love her unconditionally, provide her with shelter and security.

She sat up, and ran a hand through her messy blonde hair, cringing when her hand got stuck in the tangles. She observed the cream colored walls, white sheets and the huge black LCD on the wall opposite to her. The king-sized bed she was sitting on felt soft and comfortable, something she had craved for months now. Her gaze fell upon the brown doors attached to the room, before setting on one. She could hear a shower running behind it, which meant it was a washroom.

Monica stood up from the bed, feeling refreshed after the first proper rest she had taken in months. She glanced down at her body, a small smile stretching across her lips as she stared at the silky lavender material covering her tanned skin. Her mate was considerate, and clearly cared about her. She walked to the washroom door and stood outside, contemplating whether to knock. Would it be appropriate? Was it even her mate inside? She thought to herself, before shaking her head. She knew it was her mate, she could sense him. But disturbing his shower would not be a smart move.

Monica heard the shower stop, and she froze in her position. Her mind told her to move away from the door, but her legs remained rooted to the ground. A short moment later, the door finally opened, and she looked up, her eyes meeting breath-taking green ones. She was immediately reminded of the green meadows she used to play in as a child, his eyes seemed to hold the world's forests within them. Her heart raced inside her chest, and her mouth parted slightly, her gaze involuntarily travelling down his shirtless body. A drop of water fell from his hair onto his shoulder, trailing down to his perfectly built chest, over his visible V-line and then disappearing into the towel wrapped loosely around his lower body. His musky scent washed over her senses, leaving her frozen and entranced, as he stepped out of the washroom, standing right in front of her. Heat radiated between their bodies without even having to touch each other, and both of them felt a kind of electricity spark between them.

It felt surreal, just like it was supposed to.

Her mate cleared his throat, returning to his senses sooner than she did. "What are you staring at?" His husky voice gave rise to goosebumps on her skin, but the harsh undertone of his words managed to pull her out of that mesmerized state.

"No-nothing," she muttered, heat creeping up her cheeks as she took a step back.

His gaze flickered over her body as well, before he crossed his arms over his chest.

"What's your name?" He asked, raising his eyebrows slightly.

"Monica King," she replied, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Tyson Ryder," he said, extending his hand towards her. She bit her lip, and placed her hand in his, expecting him to shake it, but he tugged at it, pulling her to his chest. She gasped, instinctively placing her hands on his bare chest, as sparks erupted through her skin. Tyson turned her around and gently pushed her against the wall, proceeding to brush her hair away from her neck.

"What are you-" she tried to ask, but he shushed her.

"Sh, stay still," he stated, leaning in towards her. Monica felt her heart knock at her ribs, and her breath hitched, as her eyes fluttered close. She felt his nose touch her neck, and she found herself moving her face away, providing him with more access. He sniffed, his lips lightly brushing against her skin, making her stomach twist with butterflies. However, he stepped back away sooner than she liked, turning his back towards her. She could hear his wild heart beat, and she was certain he could hear hers. He ran his hand through his hair, walking to the bed, before turning to look at her with nothing but frustration and anger in his gaze.

"What's wrong?" Monica frowned, hugging herself.

"You weren't supposed to show up," Tyson said through gritted teeth. "Everything was going perfect. Why did you show up now?"

Monica blinked, her heart sinking at his words. She frowned, staring at him dumbfounded.

"I'm asking you a question! Why did you come here?" He snapped, making her flinch.

"What... What do you mean?" She frowned.

Tyson bit his lip, before walking up to her again. He placed his hands on either side of her, intimidating her with his huge form as compared to her small one.

"Which pack do you belong to?" He asked.

"Blue Timbers," she said softly.

"Then what the hell are you doing in Vyania?" He questioned.

She frowned again, staring at him in confusion and disbelief. She was sure she had done nothing wrong to him, and thus his rude and aggressive behavior wasn't sitting well with her.

"Why are you talking to me like that?"

"Excuse me?" He raised an eyebrow. "I will talk to you however I want. You're in my home."

That was enough for her.

"Step back," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. 

"I won't," he replied with determination. "You're a Rogue werewolf in my territory, and I have every right to question you."

"Correction. I'm the only survivor of my pack. Everyone else was murdered. Not sure if that makes me a Rogue. And just for your information, I am also your mate, and I know you're not the Alpha. So step back," she ordered.

Tyson scoffed, smiling at her humorlessly, as he raised his eyebrows in surprise. She took note of his insensitivity, his lack of reaction at her words, as if he did not give two shits about what she had been through. "Impressive. I see you have experience with Alphas. I would like to inform you, that being the Beta, I am the acting Alpha right now. Which makes you answerable to me. And you being my mate doesn't change anything."

"It does, in fact," Monica retorted. "It changes everything. You realize destiny would pull me here no matter where I was, right? I don't have any ulterior motives of coming here, so you can rest assured. Your pack faces no danger from me."

"Destiny," Tyson muttered, rolling his eyes. "I don't believe in that shit."

"You're kidding, right?" She scowled, his words a slap to her face.

"Look," he cut her off. "I don't believe in the mating bond, or that it's necessary for werewolves to stay with their mates. Sorry to burst your bubble, but I'm in love with someone else. Someone I genuinely care about, and not because some stupid bond makes me attracted towards her."

Monica felt a wave of sadness and jealousy wash over her, and she immediately shifted her gaze to the floor. Her face fell just like her heart, and she scratched the bridge of her nose, trying to register his words. Tears pricked her vision but she refused to let him see them, as she felt her hope coming crashing down once again. She ran her hand through her hair, before taking a deep breath and meeting his gaze again.

"I understand," she said softly, nodding. "I... I had someone too," she muttered, touching her stomach. "But what I don't get is, why am I here then? And where is this? Where are we?" She asked.

Tyson stepped away from her, allowing his hands to drop to his sides. He walked to his cupboard, opening it and inspecting his clothes. "You're in the pack house of the Sawtooth Wolves. I brought you here because you fell unconscious in my arms, naked, by the way, in the middle of the town square. I didn't know where else to take you."

"You should've left me there," Monica muttered, stepping away from the wall she was leaning against. "Why did you bring me here when you didn't want me? What am I supposed to do here? Become your girlfriend's maid of honor when you marry her?" She said through gritted teeth.

"Shhh," he snapped, turning to her with a scowl on his face. She noticed his unnecessarily tight grip on his shirt, as he stormed to her. "Do not talk about her here."

"Why?" She crossed her arms. "Your family doesn't know you're rejecting your mate for someone else? Have you told her that you've found me? Does she still wanna be with you?"

"Enough," Tyson stated, raising his hand to stop her. "I am not obligated to answer your questions, but she's a human being, and she does not know what I am. Secondly, no, my family and my pack do not know about this. They've been waiting for me to find my mate. According to them, my mate will help me control my anger. And now that I have, they won't let me reject you."

"Are you for real?" Monica muttered in disbelief, glaring at him. "You're dating a human and you're so serious about her, yet you haven't told her what you are. You love someone else, yet you still brought me here! When you knew your pack would insist on keeping me here, why did you-"

"Because there was nowhere else to take you, alright?" Tyson said, stepping closer to her. She backed away, flinching slightly, but maintained her glare and scowl. "And I couldn't leave you out there to die. You're my mate after all, and as much as I hate it, my life is now linked to yours. You die, I die," he said through gritted teeth.

Monica bit her lip, looking away from him. She took a deep breath to calm herself down, but her throat was burning with cries of disappointment. "I know how to protect myself," Monica whispered, shutting her eyes. "I've been doing it all my life, I can continue to do it. I can't stay here, and watch my mate love someone else. Even if I hate your guts, which I do, by the way, the wolf inside me loves you and yearns for you. It has yearned for you all its life. I can't put it through this pain constantly." She tried to walk towards the door, but Tyson caught hold of her wrist.

"Wait," he said, stepping in front of her. "I can't let you go."

"What's your problem?" She snapped, sniffing. "Try to understand, I can't do this."

"Where will you go?" He asked.

"None of your business," she replied, pulling her hand out of his grip. He clenched his jaw, his eyes flashing purple for a second.

"Fine. Leave then. Go where you want, but don't expect me to come running after you," he stated, rolling his eyes. He walked into the washroom with his clothes, slamming the door behind him. She stared at the door in disbelief, and a tear slid down her cheek. Angrily wiping it away, she stormed out of his room.

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