The Beta’s Ugly Daughter

Chapter 6

I had built my life on being overlooked, but the moment Wyatt stepped into the archives, everything I'd hidden began to unravel.

His footsteps echoed through the dusty basement like thunder. I froze over the ceremonial records, my heart slamming against my ribs as those silver-blue eyes swept the room with predatory precision.

"Shit," I breathed, scrambling to hide my face behind a stack of territorial agreements.

“Sorry, Gail, I didn't mean to startle you." His voice cut through the silence like a blade. "My father assigned me to help with the historical records project."

The papers trembled in my hands. Of all the people who could have been assigned to work with me, why him? The man whose very presence made me feel like prey caught in an open field.

"He said you've been working on this for years," Wyatt continued, pulling out the chair across from me.

I nodded without looking up, my throat too tight to speak.

Of all the people who could have been assigned to work with me, why did it have to be him? The man I'd spent years watching from afar, harboring feelings I knew were hopeless and pathetic.

"Since I was twelve," I finally managed, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Right." He pulled out the chair across from me, and I instinctively shrank back as he sat down. "I'm supposed to help review everything for accuracy and organization. Where should we start?"

This had to be some kind of punishment.

Maybe my father had finally decided that ignoring me wasn't enough, maybe he'd asked the Alpha to assign his son to babysit the pack’s main disappointment.

I kept my head down, mechanically sorting through papers while trying to figure out how to make this as painless as possible for both of us.

"These are the mating ceremony records from the past fifty years," I said, gesturing to a neat stack without meeting his eyes. "Cross-referenced with bloodline documentation and territorial agreements."

"You organized all this yourself?"

I waited for the polite dismissal, the suggestion that we finish quickly so he could escape to more important duties. Instead, he leaned forward, studying my work with genuine attention.

"You've documented inconsistencies in the council decisions from 1987."

My head snapped up in surprise. He'd actually read my notes. "Three families were promised the same territorial rights through different mating contracts. It caused a minor war that lasted two years."

"The official records don't mention it."

"No, but if you cross-reference the patrol schedules and injury reports—"

"You can see the evidence of the conflict." Something dangerous flickered in his eyes. "That's brilliant detective work."

Heat flooded my cheeks. "It's just filing."

"Bullshit." The profanity hit like a slap. "This is historical analysis. You've found patterns that could prevent future conflicts." He traced one of my connection lines between documents. "How long did this take you?"

"Six years, give or take."

"Six years?" His voice cracked with something that sounded like anger. "You've been doing this level of work for six years, and no one ever told me?"

I flinched at his tone. "I work on it between other duties—"

"Other duties?" He leaned forward, his presence overwhelming. "What other duties?"

"Cleaning, organizing, whatever Mother assigns—"

"You're wasted on cleaning." The words exploded from him. "This is incredible work, Gail. Truly incredible."

The praise hit me like a physical blow. No one had ever called my work incredible before. Tears pricked at my eyes, and I quickly looked down.

"Thank you," I whispered.

The next hour passed differently than I'd expected. Instead of the awkward silence I'd braced for, we fell into an easy rhythm.

He asked intelligent questions about my organizational system, listened carefully to my explanations, and even laughed when I made a dry comment about a particularly ridiculous territorial dispute from the 1960s.

For the first time in my life, someone was seeing me, not the cursed appearance I wore, but the mind beneath it. When he finally said he needed to go, disappointment crashed over me like a cold wave.

"Thank you for showing me around the system," he said, gathering his things. "I'll be back tomorrow if that's all right."

"Of course," I managed, already retreating back into myself as reality settled in.

This was temporary. A duty assignment. Nothing more.

After he left, I sat alone in the archives, my chest tight with conflicting emotions. The small spark of hope that had ignited during our conversation warred with the voice in my head that whispered warnings.

Don't read too much into this, don't let yourself believe this changes anything.

But as the sun set and the blood moon began to rise, painting the sky in shades of crimson, I found myself drawn to the forest.

To the Whispering Grove where I could shed this cursed skin and become someone worthy of the attention he'd shown me today.

The transformation always felt like coming home. My bones lengthened and reshaped, my dull brown hair became flowing ginger fire, my weak frame became strong and graceful.

In this form, I was everything I should have been from birth, beautiful, powerful, and whole.

He was waiting for me in the clearing, as if he'd known I would come.

"You came back," I said, drinking in the sight of him in the moonlight.

"I was hoping you would too." He stepped closer, and I caught the way his breath hitched as he looked at me. "I never got your name."

"Names have power. Maybe I'm not ready to give you that kind of power over me. Yet."

He smiled at that, a real smile that transformed his entire face. "Fair enough. Can I call you Red? For your hair?"

The laugh that escaped me felt foreign and wonderful. When was the last time anyone had made me laugh? "Red works for me."

We walked through paths dappled with crimson moonlight, and he talked to me like we were old friends. This version of him was softer than the composed Alpha heir everyone saw during the day, more vulnerable, more real.

"Do you ever feel trapped?" he asked suddenly, his voice carrying an edge I'd never heard before. "Like you're living someone else's life?"

"Every breath I take." The admission tore from my throat. "But running away only changes the scenery."

"Spoken like someone who's given it serious thought."

"Haven't we all?" I turned to face him, seeing something in his eyes that made my breath catch. "The question is whether we're brave enough to change our circumstances instead of just escaping them."

He moved closer, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from his skin. "And are you? Brave enough?"

"I'm trying to be." The words came out as barely a whisper.

"What if I don't want to run?" He stopped walking, turning to face me with burning intensity. "What if I want to change the rules instead?"

"Rules exist for reasons."

"Do they?" He stepped closer, close enough that I could feel his heat radiating against my skin. "Or do they exist to keep people like us from taking what we want?"

"And what do you want?"

"You." The word hit like a physical blow. "I want to know who you are beneath the mystery. I want to understand why you haunt every quiet moment of my day."

The confession hung between us like a loaded weapon. Dawn was still hours away, but I could feel time slipping through my fingers like sand.

"Wanting and having are different things," I whispered.

"Are they?" He reached out, his fingers tracing the line of my jaw with devastating gentleness. "Because right now, the only thing stopping me from kissing you is your permission."

His grip tightened on my face, and for one electric moment, I thought he might close the distance between us and kiss me.

The air between us crackled with possibility, with want. But then the first tendrils of dawn began to creep across the sky, and I felt the familiar tug of my cursed form trying to reassert itself.

"I have to go," I said, already backing away from him.

"Not yet." His voice carried desperation that made my chest tight. "Stay a little longer."

"I can't," I said, already backing toward the trees.

"Will I see you again?"

I was already fading into the shadows, my heart breaking with each step away from him. "If the Moon Goddess allows it."