The Beta's Mate

Dalia

The journey to Lolo Creek was long and arduous. I walked the entire way, memories of my childhood swirling around me like ghosts. As the landscape of Idaho and Montana blended together, a mix of dense forests and rolling hills, I felt a strange sense of anticipation and dread. The closer I got to my old home, the heavier the weight of the past became.

By the time I arrived at Lolo Creek, the sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the familiar terrain. I trudged along the old path leading to the house, my legs aching but my resolve firm. The place was eerily quiet, the only sound being the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze.

I walked slowly, my steps hesitant, as I made my way to the old house. It stood there, weathered and abandoned, a shadow of the place I had once called home. The wooden boards were warped and faded, the windows cracked and covered in grime. Nature had begun to reclaim the structure, vines creeping up the walls and moss covering the roof.

Pushing open the creaky front door, I stepped inside. Dust motes danced in the slanted rays of the setting sun, and the air was thick with the scent of decay and neglect. The interior was just as I remembered, but everything felt smaller, more confined. The furniture was covered in white sheets, like ghosts of the past, and cobwebs adorned the corners of the room.

I walked through the house, each step stirring up memories. The living room, where my mother and I used to sit by the fire and listen to my father's stories. The kitchen, where the scent of my mother's cooking would fill the air. The bedrooms, where I would lie awake at night, listening to the sounds of the forest outside.

In my old room, I found remnants of my childhood. A broken toy, a faded drawing, a book with yellowed pages. I picked up the book and ran my fingers over the cover, the memories flooding back. I sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the weight of those memories pressing down on me.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I thought about everything that had been lost. My mother, my father, the life we had here. The betrayal and the fear that had driven us away. I had tried to bury those memories, to move on, but being here brought it all back.

I stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the forest that surrounded the house. The trees were tall and imposing, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. It was so peaceful, so deceptively serene. I closed my eyes and let the sounds of the forest wash over me, trying to find some sense of peace.

But the peace was elusive. The past was too strong, the memories too vivid. I turned away from the window and made my way back to the front door. As I stepped outside, the cool evening air hit my face, a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere inside the house.

I walked to the edge of the creek, the water glistening in the fading light. I knelt down and dipped my fingers into the cool water, letting it run through my fingers. The creek had always been a place of solace for me, a place where I could escape and find some sense of clarity.

But now, even the creek couldn't wash away the pain and sorrow. I stood up and looked around, feeling a sense of determination. I had come here to confront my past, to find closure. And I would. No matter how painful it was, I would face it head-on.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the forest into shadow, I turned and made my way back to the house. I would stay here for the night, gather my strength, and prepare for the challenges ahead. With a final glance at the creek, I stepped back into the house.

Just as I crossed the threshold, I felt a sudden prickle on the back of my neck, a sense of being watched. My instincts screamed at me to turn around, but before I could react, I heard the sound of footsteps approaching from behind.

I spun around to find myself face-to-face with two men. They were tall and muscular, their presence imposing. Their eyes glowed with an intensity that made my heart race. I recognized them instantly—members of the Gunnolf pack.

"What are you doing here?" one of them demanded, his voice a low growl.

"I... I came back to find something," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

"This is our territory now," the other one said, stepping closer. "You have no right to be here."

"I didn't mean to intrude," I said, raising my hands in a placating gesture. "I just needed to see my old home."

The first man sniffed the air, his eyes narrowing. "You smell like witch and wolf. What are you?"

"My name is Dalia," I said, meeting his gaze. "I used to live here. My parents were... different."

The men exchanged a look, their expressions hardening. "You need to come with us," the second man said, grabbing my arm.

"Wait, please," I protested, trying to pull away. "I'm not here to cause trouble."

The man tightened his grip, his eyes flashing with anger. "You don't have a choice. The alpha will want to see you."

Fear surged through me as they began to drag me away from the house.

As the two Gunnolf pack members dragged me through the dense forest, my heart raced with a mix of fear and anticipation. The shadows of the trees loomed around us, and the air grew colder as we ventured deeper into the territory. I knew that the Darwood Reservoir was their stronghold, a place where their alpha ruled with an iron fist. The stories I had heard about Zeff Gunnolf filled my mind, each one more intimidating than the last.

After what felt like hours of walking, we arrived at a clearing. The Darwood Reservoir was a breathtaking sight, the community was unlike any place I had ever seen. It was a closed urbanization, a hidden enclave nestled deep within the dense forests of Montana. The houses were spread out, each with its own generous plot of land, providing privacy and space. They were rustic yet elegant, constructed from timber and stone, blending seamlessly with the natural landscape.

The streets were well-maintained, lined with lanterns that cast a warm, inviting glow as the evening descended. The air was fresh and filled with the earthy scent of pine and moss, a constant reminder of the forest that enveloped us. There were small gardens in front of many homes, bursting with vibrant flowers and herbs, and I could see children playing outside, their laughter echoing softly through the still air.

Central to the community was a large, communal lodge—an impressive structure made of logs and stone, with a wide porch that wrapped around the entire building. This was the heart of Darwood, where the pack gathered for meetings, celebrations, and other important events. It exuded a sense of strength and unity, its presence commanding respect.

Adjacent to the lodge was a clear, shimmering lake—the actual Darwood Reservoir. The water was pristine, reflecting the surrounding trees and sky like a perfect mirror. There were docks and boathouses along the shore, and a few canoes bobbed gently in the water. The lake served as a recreational area as well as a strategic resource for the pack.

The men led me towards the lodge, their grips firm on my arms. As we approached, the massive wooden doors swung open, revealing a dimly lit interior. The air inside was thick with the scent of pine and earth, mixed with the unmistakable presence of wolves. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing in my ears.

Inside the lodge, the atmosphere was tense. Wolves in their human form milled about, their eyes tracking my every move. I was acutely aware of their scrutiny, their suspicion palpable. The two men guided me through the hallways, finally stopping in front of a large, ornate door. They knocked, and a deep, authoritative voice called from within.

"Enter."

The door creaked open, and I was pushed inside. The room was spacious, the walls lined with bookshelves and adorned with hunting trophies. A large desk dominated the center, behind which sat a figure exuding power and command. Zeff Gunnolf, the alpha of the Gunnolf pack.

He looked up from his desk, his piercing green eyes locking onto mine. His presence was overwhelming, his aura radiating dominance. His dark hair was neatly trimmed, and his muscular frame filled the chair with an intimidating presence. He leaned back, studying me with a critical gaze.

"State your business," Zeff said, his voice low and menacing.

"I didn't mean to intrude," I said, my voice trembling. "I used to live here. I came back to find old heirlooms."

Zeff's eyes narrowed, and he glanced at the two men who had brought me in. "Leave us," he ordered. They nodded and exited the room, leaving me alone with the alpha.

"You have a lot of nerve showing like that," Zeff continued, his gaze unwavering. "You're lucky we didn't kill you on sight."

"I'm not here to cause trouble," I said, trying to keep my composure. "I just needed to see my old home."

Zeff stood up, his movements fluid and graceful. He walked around the desk, stopping just a few feet away from me. "Your scent... it's a mix. Explain yourself."

"My mother was a witch, and my father was a wolf," I replied, meeting his gaze. "We lived on the border of Idaho and Montana until... until things went wrong."

Zeff studied me for a moment, then nodded. "Very well. I'll decide what to do with you. For now, you'll stay here under our watch."

Just then, the door opened, and another figure entered the room. It was a tall, muscular man with light brown hair and striking silver eyes. His presence was electrifying, and as soon as our eyes met, I felt a powerful pull, with the sweet smell of vanilla, a connection that took my breath away. My wolf stirred within me, howling for the first time.

This man was my mate. And he had awoken my wolf.

"Zeff, is everything alright?" the man asked, and as his eyes landed on me everythign shifted.

Josh's eyes widened slightly, and he took a step closer. The bond between us was undeniable, a magnetic force drawing us together. I could feel my wolf yearning for him, and the intensity of the bond made my heart race.

He must have felt it too. He licked his lips, his hand trembling, and reached out to take my hand. The moment our skin touched, a jolt of electricity shot through me, solidifying the bond. My wolf howled in delight, and I felt a sense of completeness I had never known before.

"Josh," Zeff said briefly, unaware of our connection as he walked back to his desk, "take her to the security quarters. We'll discuss this further in the morning."

Josh nodded, his eyes never leaving mine, and gestured for me to follow. We walked in silence, yet my mind wanted to scream and touch him. I noticed his shoulders were tense, and his hands trembled, forcing them into his pockets to hide it.

As I walked beside him, I noticed he was biting the inner walls of his mouth, as if holding back the urge to say something. We arrived at the security quarters by the look of the guards posted outside and the iron bars reinforcing the building around.

The guards at the front nodded, opening the door for us to step in. The place had a large round table, similar to a dining room. On the left were a few iron doors, most likely small rooms for holding intruders. At the front was a door labeled restroom along with another saying interrogation.

As Josh closed the door behind him, I found my courage to speak, "Dalia."

Josh looked at me, his eyes filled with concern. He turned to one of the iron doors, gesturing for me to go in. As I stepped in, I noticed a small bed by the wall. Just as I was about to turn, Josh closed the door behind him.

Before I could say anything, he grabbed my shoulders and pulled me towards him, his lips crashing against mine. The kiss was urgent, filled with the longing and intensity of our newly formed bond. My body responded instinctively, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

Our lips moved together, exploring and tasting, as if we were trying to make up for lost time. The heat between us was palpable, our breaths mingling as the kiss deepened. Josh's hands roamed my back, sending shivers down my spine.

I could feel his heart pounding against mine, the rhythm matching the rapid beat of my own. The connection between us was overwhelming, a force of nature that neither of us could resist. The scent of pine and musk from his skin was intoxicating, mingling with the faint traces of the forest that clung to him.

After what felt like an eternity, we finally pulled away, both of us breathing heavily. Josh's eyes were dark with desire, and I knew mine mirrored the same intensity. He rested his forehead against mine, his voice a husky whisper.

"I've waited so long for this moment," he admitted, his breath warm against my lips.

He kissed me again, softer this time, . "I'll figure out what I can do," he murmured against my lips. "I'm not letting you go."