Another chance with the Beta

My nails dug into the flesh of my palm, but I barely felt the pain as Seraphina, my former friend and the Beta’s daughter, openly mocked me in front of the entire pack. "Does she really think showing up to this dinner will somehow hide the fact that she’s wolfless?"

"Someone who hasn’t awakened their wolf doesn’t even deserve to be in the pack," one of her lackeys added, sneering.

My eyes burned with unshed tears. But the worst part came when I heard Seraphina call out, "Jaxon!"

The world seemed to tilt as Jaxon, my supposed mate and the future Alpha of the Silver Fang Pack, strode toward us. He's wanted by almost all the she wolves in our age, including Seraphina. Now his face was a mask—cold, unreadable.

Jaxon had been my childhood sweetheart—the boy who had once told me, over and over, how much he longed to be my mate. But now, because the truth had come out that I was wolf-less, we were forced into secret love.

Seraphina’s grin widened. “Since our dear Aria seems to believe she belongs here, I think it’s only fair to hear from the future Alpha himself.” She turned to face him, eyes glittering with something sinister. “Tell us, Jaxon. What do you think of our little stray?”

Silence fell over the hall.

My heart pounded so loudly I was sure everyone could hear it.

Jaxon’s gaze locked onto mine.

And for a moment, I saw something there. A flicker of hesitation. A war within himself.

Then, his lips curled into a smirk.

“I think…” He let the words hang in the air, then chuckled. “I think Seraphina has a point.”

The room erupted in laughter.

The world around me blurred, voices distorting into cruel echoes.

....

I was unwanted in the pack. A pariah. A misfit.

Born without a wolf, I was the stain on the Silver Fang Pack’s otherwise pristine reputation. In a world where strength was everything, I had none. Where wolves prided themselves on their ability to shift, I remained painfully human. My existence was an inconvenience, a burden no one wanted to bear. And so, they made me pay for it every single day.

I had lived my whole life in the pack house, but I was nothing more than a servant—no, worse than that. Even servants were given decent quarters. I was forced to live in the basement, a dark, damp space with barely enough room for a single bed and a trunk of clothes. The air was thick with the scent of mildew, the concrete floor so cold it seeped into my bones. No windows. No warmth. Only the suffocating reality that this was where I belonged.

“Faster, freak!” A voice sneered from behind me as I scrubbed the wooden floors of the dining hall. A bucket of murky water sat beside me, my raw hands gripping the brush so tightly my fingers ached. I recognized the voice immediately—Daniel, one of the warriors’ sons.