Page 4 of Star-crossed Betas

My heart beats fiercely in my chest, common sense telling me I should back away and run safely back to my own territory, but a yearning curiosity has me placing one paw in front of the other. As I make my way closer to the water’s edge, he shifts into his wolf form and approaches me with a look of trepidation.

His fur is chestnut brown, but his ears and paws are closer to a shade of honey. He lowers his head in submission, letting me know he means no harm, so I do the same. As we get closer, I take another deep inhale. I’m engulfed by the seductive scent I’d been following earlier. Damp earth and lavender—it’s him. The scent settles something deep inside me, a scent that sayshome.

A scent that saysmine.

I’m startled by my own thoughts; I’ve never smelled anyone who made my teeth ache with the need to claim. Even if I’m not quite ready to admit it to myself, I know what that scent means.

He comes closer, sniffing my neck. Whatever he smells on me seems to appease him because he lets out a happy whine before gesturing with his head for me to follow him into the water. Because we aren’t part of the same pack, we don’t have bonds to send thoughts through while we’re in our wolf forms.

Once we’re both in the deepest part of the water, we shift back at the same time.

Wordlessly, we appraise each other; he has olive skin and a slight t-shirt tan. His large, soft brown eyes are warm and welcoming, and his hair is short on the sides with a mop of messy brown waves on top. His full, pillowy lips are distracting, and I can’t help but think he might be the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen. I offer him a shy smile, and he returns it enthusiastically.

“You’re not an omega,” he says to me. I can’t tell if he means it as a question or a statement. His voice is deep but gentle. Sturdy almost. The sound lights up all the synapses in my brain, and it takes me a moment to respond.

“No, I’m not. I’m a beta like you.” I can smell it on him. Where an Alpha's scent is like iron, betas smell kind of woodsy, like an old oak tree. Omegas can be scented from a mile away, sickly sweet like toffee apples sold on bonfire night.

“There’s no pack on this territory, and you aren’t from the Eastwood pack.” He phrases it as if he’s trying to work out a maths problem. For a second, I’m relieved, thinking this must mean he belongs to the Northumbria pack. I don’t know many people from that pack, so it wouldn’t be surprising for me not to recognise him. Northumbria is the Switzerland of wolf packs in the North of England.

“No, I’m not part of the Eastwood pack,” I say, not wanting to disclose too much.

“Neither am I…”

Bollocks.

I should have known. He sounds posh—pronounces all his t’s.

In a panic, my brain starts coming up with all sorts of ridiculous ideas. I almost tell him I’m from a pack in Scotland. Thankfully, he saves me from myself.

“How about I don’t tell you what pack I belong to, and you don’t tell me what pack you belong to?” he suggests, giving me an out I am definitely going to fucking take.

“Ahh, plausible deniability.” I offer him a smirk to bring some levity to the situation. The truth is we both know the other belongs on opposing sides of a territory war. An ember of guilt sparks to life in my stomach, though, as I realise that while he knows I’m part of the Kelly pack, he doesn’t know I’m the Alpha’s son.

“How old are you?” he asks, interrupting my spiralling thoughts.

“Nineteen, you?”

“Twenty. I was going to ask you your name, but you probably can’t tell me that.” He sounds bummed by that fact, and something within those soft brown eyes of his has me wanting to offer him a sliver of myself.

“How about you call me Cee?”

“Is it what your friends call you?” His furrowed brow suggests he doesn’t like that prospect for some reason.

“Nope, nobody else calls me Cee.” He seems to mull it over briefly before flashing me a smile.

“Cool. You can call me Fee then,” he says, sounding pleased by this solution.

“Does anyone else call you Fee?”

“Nope. Cee and Fee. It can be our secret,” he says, shooting me a look that’s all mischief. I can’t help the grin spreading over my face at that idea, I’ve never really had a secret before, and I’m already feeling quite protective of this one.

We swim together under the moonlight in companionable silence, with only the sounds of the waterfall in the background. It’s peaceful in a way I’ve never experienced before. With a twin sister, an older brother and who knows how many cousins, peace and quiet in my family is hard to come by.

“Do you come here often?” I ask, breaking the silence. Ugh, blush warms my cheeks when I realise it sounds like the world's most clichéd chat-up line.

“I bet you say that to all the wolves.” He winks at me playfully. “But nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’. “I’m thinking I might start making it a regular thing, though. In fact, I’ll probably be ready for another swim next Sunday night.” Relief and excitement simultaneously battle inside me, and I feel fourteen again, having my first crush.

“What a coincidence; I might be here for a swim next Sunday night, too.” His big grin is infectious, and I don’t hold back my own.

---