The Beta’s Ugly Daughter

Chapter 14

I didn’t know who he was kissing, Red, or Gail. Maybe neither, maybe just a dream made flesh under a cursed moon.

I ran until my legs ached and my lungs burned, until I was far enough from the archives that I couldn't feel the pull anymore, that electric connection that had snapped between Wyatt and me like a live wire, leaving me breathless and terrified.

My heart pounded against my ribs as I pressed my back against a tree at the edge of pack territory, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

The way he'd looked at me in that moment, not with the careful politeness I was used to, not with the effort it usually took him to see past my cursed appearance, but with recognition, with something that felt dangerously close to longing.

It felt wrong. All of it felt wrong.

He was promised to Mira, had been since childhood. The contracts were signed, the ceremony approaching, the political alliance that would benefit both our families already secured.

And here I was, harboring feelings that could destroy everything if anyone discovered them.

Worse, he only ever looked at me like that when I was transformed. When I was Red, beautiful and mysterious under the blood moon's light. Never when I was just Gail, plain, cursed, magically designed to be overlooked and dismissed.

I waited in the shadow of the trees until I was sure he hadn't followed me. Part of me had hoped he would, hoped he'd chase after me and demand answers to questions I couldn't bear to hear.

But the forest remained quiet except for the sound of my ragged breathing, and gradually I convinced myself that his absence was a good thing.

It meant he was being sensible, responsible, everything I should be but couldn't seem to manage when he was near.

That night, the blood moon rose heavy and crimson above the forest, its light calling to something deep in my bones. I felt the familiar tingle in my skin that meant transformation was possible, felt my wolf stirring restlessly beneath the surface.

I shouldn't go to the grove. Shouldn't seek him out when we'd parted on such strange, charged terms.

The smart thing would be to stay home, to let the blood moon pass without giving in to the magic that let me become someone else for a few precious hours.

But I found myself walking the familiar forest paths anyway, my body already beginning to change as the moon's power washed over me.

Height returning to my limbs, curves flowing into place, my mousy brown hair brightening to the fiery red that caught moonlight like captured flame.

By the time I reached the Whispering Grove, I was transformed, taller, beautiful, glowing with an inner light that made me feel powerful in ways my cursed form never allowed.

The magic settled over me like armor, but tonight it felt different.

Tonight, I still felt exposed, vulnerable in ways that had nothing to do with physical appearance and everything to do with the raw emotions I couldn't hide anymore.

I almost turned back. Almost convinced myself that facing him again would be too dangerous, too close to revealing truths that would shatter both our worlds. But then I saw him standing in the center of the clearing, his tall frame silhouetted against the ancient trees, and I knew I couldn't leave.

He'd been waiting for me.

"You came," he said as I stepped into the crimson light, his voice softer than usual, tinged with something that might have been relief.

"I wasn't sure I would," I admitted, staying at the edge of the clearing where shadows still offered some protection.

"You ran last time. Why?"

The question hung between us, simple and impossible to answer honestly. How could I tell him that I'd run because the pull between us was becoming too strong to resist?

That every moment in his presence made it harder to remember why we couldn't be together?

I didn't answer, my thoughts too loud and chaotic to organize into words. Mira's kind face flashed through my mind, followed by the memory of Laila's cruel explanation of my curse.

The truth felt like a weight pressing down on my chest, that he was drawn to this version of me, this magical facade, but could barely stand to look at who I really was during daylight hours.

"Red?" His voice was gentle, concerned. "What's wrong?"

The pull inside me returned, stronger than ever, like an invisible rope connecting my heart to his. The mate bond that I'd felt growing between us for weeks now pulsed with an intensity that made my chest ache.

I looked down, afraid of what my eyes might reveal. Afraid he'd see the desperate love I'd been trying to hide, the way I treasured every moment of his attention even knowing it was built on deception.

But he stepped closer anyway, closing the space between us with measured, deliberate steps. The air grew heavy with unspoken things, charged with the same electricity I'd felt in the archives earlier.

We stared at each other across the small space that separated us, both of us breathing hard, both caught in the grip of something neither of us fully understood.

The mate bond pulled at us with increasing insistence, and I could see the confusion in his eyes, the way he was fighting against something he couldn't name.

Still, neither of us moved. Neither of us stepped back or forward, caught in a moment that felt balanced on the edge of everything changing.

Then he stepped closer, finally closing the distance between us entirely.

"I don't care what secrets you're keeping," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "I don't care what's complicated about this situation. All I know is that when I'm with you, I feel like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be."

My breath caught as his face moved closer to mine, as I felt the warmth of his body, the steady strength of his presence.

His eyes searched mine like he was trying to understand something fundamental, like he was looking for answers to questions he couldn't articulate.

For just a second, I wondered if he knew. If somehow, despite the magic and the curse and the impossibility of it all, he recognized me as more than just the mysterious woman who appeared under blood moons.

But he didn't ask, didn't voice whatever suspicion might be growing in his mind. Instead, he looked at me like I was something fragile and wild, something precious that might disappear if he moved too quickly.

And then he kissed me.The contact was gentle at first, almost hesitant, like he was giving me one last chance to pull away.

But when I didn't, when I melted into him instead, my hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt, the kiss deepened into something desperate and hungry and absolutely perfect.