Claiming My Beta's Mate

2

Thorn.

I am Thorn Moonsdale.

The Alpha of the last surviving Chimera pack in the city of New Orleans. At a very young age, my father passed away, handing over the responsibility of running the pack. At the beginning, it was rough—no one wanted to accept a young kid as Alpha.

They believed I was unworthy to run the pack—they couldn't respect or feel the aura that showed them I was the chosen one. Unknown to them, I inherited an undiluted bloodline of the Chimera werewolf species from my ancestors.

I am half werewolf-half jaguar. A pure chimera. It didn't matter my age, being Alpha was my birthright. My wolf is enhanced in sensitivity, accelerated healing and agility. I have extremely enhanced, keen senses of hearing, sight, smell, and taste.

Growing up, it was hard to control and nurture my abilities because I didn't have a father figure. I remember how hard and painful it was during every full moon. I am the last existing Chimera werewolf and I had to figure out how to control myself.

I have locked and tied myself up several times to avoid lashing out at those around me because I'm afraid of what I can do. I have no Luna even when I ought to. "Being the last Chimera meant I had to reproduce and have pups but I'm afraid of what my aura can do to a female wolf."

The Pack elders have required that I chose a Luna who would give me pups. It is a matter that I have been avoiding it for the longest time. According to the laws of our pack, it was important that as Alpha, I honor the moon goddess and bonding was the pathway.

When I looked beneath me, it was a woman. We bumped into each other, our lips almost touched and I caught a whiff of her scent—like summer rain and vanilla. I felt the soft swell of her bosom and instead of being annoyed, my wolf and jaguar prowl in delight instead.

I didn't realize how close to her I was until I felt her soft n*****s on my chest, and how the hair on my arms erected by mere contact even when she is wearing a layer of clothing,

In the past, when Brad described her to me, he didn't do justice. Her soft brown curls of hair that are in the fashion of a fringe, vivid blue eyes and pouty lips—how could he miss the description of her innocent eyes?

She is frozen and I'm not surprised that she is dumbstruck with fear that she has bumped into me. I rarely show my face in the pack but when I do, it's because it's a matter of importance.

"Ye—yes Alpha." She says, stepping away from my front and I cannot get my eyes off her lips. I caught a glimpse of the situation and how Mrs Adamas attacked her.

"We shall talk in my office." I say, walking past her and entering into the office.

The news of Brad's death hit me like cold water. I had sent him on an assignment to find information about a group called the Red wolves who were attacking wolves in the city, New Orleans.

The Red wolves are a pack of brutal specimens of werewolves whose nature was to prey on other wolves and feed on them. I received news that they had entered the city and immediately, I wanted to get rid of them.

"We made a good plan in order to find out what pack was sponsoring their movement in the city but unfortunately, the Red wolves were already aware of our plans.They set a trap for Brad and the rest of the group which led to their deaths.”

I have been attending to the families of those who we lost at the hands of the Red wolves and I have received too many petitions from that late Beta's family who are asking me to banish his mate. It makes no sense to me that she is being blamed for his death because of a rumored curse.

Brad, my Beta died in the hands of the Red wolves and I'm at fault for not being there to protect him.

However, they have made a point that she’s originally a rogue and according to the laws of the Moonsdale pack, rogues are not allowed in the pack because we are a bloodline of Chimeras.

I approach my desk and look at the papers that are scattered all over my desk. I have not even had a chance to properly grieve his death—the pack is in disorder and yet, I have to attend to trivial cases such as this.

I pick up a piece of paper that shows the record of her identity. I rest on the table, scanning my eyes through it.

“Your mother was an unknown rogue...”

“Nineteen years ago, she was found heavily pregnant and weak. She was brought into the pack and she fell into labor.” She died shortly after giving birth to you. I place the file on my desk before laying my gaze on her. I say, reading the rest of the information.

“Yes, that’s correct.” Her voice is somewhat shaking and unstable.

“So, you have no idea what pack your mother comes from?” I ask.

“That is also correct.” She says.

“You were born under an eclipse moon. The pack members believe you are cursed and Brad’s parents believe you led to his death by that curse…”

“That isn’t true!” She says, stopping me from completing my sentence.

“I don’t care what is true. What I know is as far as these records go…you are a rogue. As Alpha, I’m ordering you to leave tonight.” I say and her eyes begin to swell in tears.

“But I have nowhere to go...” She says.

“That isn’t my problem. Rogues are not allowed in the Moonsdale pack. I don’t know how it happened that you weren’t kicked out but I believe this pack has offered enough assistance to you for many years already since you were born.”

“This is the last surviving Chimera pack and only that bloodline will be accepted here. My beta, Brad…who has passed away would have been your ticket but he’s dead.” I say, tucking one hand into my pocket and getting ready to take the office.

“No, you can’t!” She says, holding my arm when I’m about to walk past her.

I look at her eyes, they are swelling with tears but I’m not moved by it so easily. She takes her hands off my shirt and I look at her sternly.

“Please, don’t send me away. There is a crack in her voice. It is desperate and I wish I was more sympathetic towards her emotional breakdown but I’m not.”

“I have made up my mind. I will not have rogues in my pack!” I say, ready to walk away but she tries to follow me. In annoyance, I raise my hand to command her but instead, she gets in the way and I mistakenly push her.

She loses her balance, stumbling backward and her eyes widen with panic. At this moment, time seems to slow down as she falls, my heart pounds in my chest as I watch .

Just as she braces herself for impact with the hard floor, I lunge forward with fast reflexes. I catch her in my strong arms, and my face is etched with concern for only a second.

She gasps, her eyes wide with surprise and relief, clutching my arms and her eyes have a mix of gratitude and something more passing between them.

I gently lower her back onto her feet, her fingers on my arms linger for a moment longer than necessary and when she steadies herself, her cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment.

My face is solid and stern when I let go of her.

“It hasn’t even been a week since Brad died, are you trying to find a reason to stay in the pack and you thoughtlessly believe that falling into my arms would make me change my mind?”

“When Brad described you, I didn’t think you were a loose woman.” I say, and I watch the change in her eyes when I mention the word “loose”.

What did you just say to me? She asks.

I walk closer to her, whispering the exact words to her ear when I get closer.

“You are the definition of a loose woman.” I say unapologetically and she hits me across the face.

This is the first time anyone has hit me. I didn’t expect the first person who hit me to be a woman. Much less, my beta’s ex-mate.

She is the one who hit me but her hands are shaking, I can sense her nerves rising and it is because she has realized the consequences of what she has done.

Did you just hit me? I ask and she moves back, her lips quivering.

Afraid of what I can do in retaliation, she tries to walk away but I pull her back. I push her towards the table in my office and I stand in between her legs before she can close it.

“Get away from me! If you think because you are Alpha you can intimidate me, I will prove you wrong!” She says, and I chuckle in response to her—her words are nothing but a motivation to see how far I can tackle her.

“Isn’t this what you want? Did you not try to persuade me with your body just now?” I say, closing every space in between us.

Quickly, I realize that it is a mistake because my wolf prowls in delight and my frontal lobe hardens in the second it rests in between her legs.

I grunt and she moans—and at this moment, my wolf takes over my intentions and pushes me to mark her across the neck.

“What the hell is wrong with you!?” She squeals, getting away from me after I have marked her.