Chosen by the Beast Alpha

Chapter 15: Chapter 15

Dominic’s POV

The second Daniel spoke, I practically yanked myself away from Lena, forcing calm onto my body like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head. I grabbed the shirt on the ground and pulled it on carelessly, my voice low and steady but tight with restraint: "Which direction?"

"East border. Deep in the forest."

I nodded once, then turned to Lena. "Stay here. Lock the door. And remember—without my say-so, you’re not going anywhere."

I didn’t wait for her to speak before I was already out the door, grabbing Daniel on my way.

The moment I reached the edge of the woods, her scent still clung to my tongue, along with the memory of that soft warmth beneath her lips.

I could still feel the ghost of her skin against my chest; the lingering notes of forest and moonlight from her hair seeped into my mind, making it impossible to think straight.

I cannot lose control right now. Absolutely not.

We pushed through the bushes, branches snapping against my arms, stinging sharply. The canopy above swallowed the moonlight whole, and the deeper we went, the heavier the air became.

Fresh blood stained the ground. I lowered my voice. "How many?"

"Twelve confirmed," Daniel answered in a hushed tone. "There might be more in the woods."

A few steps further, and I saw them.

Rogues.

They staggered out of the shadows, moving like puppets with their strings hacked apart. Driven entirely by instinct, nothing in their eyes—no thought, no presence. Not wolves. Rabid animals.

Daniel immediately stepped forward, ready to attack. I stopped him with a hand. "Hold."

"Alpha?" Confusion roughened his voice, but I wasn’t planning to explain.

I walked forward alone, letting the shift drown me completely. Black veins burst under my skin, bones restructuring inch by inch, fangs tearing through my gums. My world dropped into a blood-red haze.

Then I charged. Ripping, crushing, ending.

Fast—so fast even I didn’t fully register the movement. Brutal, clean, without a single pause.

But my mind... it wasn’t here at all.

Lena’s fingers sliding across my chest.

Her face tilted up toward me.

"Try stopping," she’d laughed against her breath. "I dare you."

She’d never truly seen what I was like without restraint. She had no idea how far I could go.

In less than five minutes, the forest went dead silent, like someone hit a mute button. Only the shredded remains of the Rogues were left on the ground.

I stood in the blood, breathing not even fully settled, adrenaline not yet peaking—and the fight was already over.

I could bet anything that if she saw me like this, she’d bolt on the spot. One glance at me standing over a pile of torn-apart rogues, and every brave word she’d ever thrown at me would vanish like smoke.

She’d back away with that look—the one I learned from Eliza. Disgust mixed with a tiny flicker of pity before she turned her back and walked off.

When I was sure every last Rogue was gone, I shifted back. Bones pulled in, veins settled, and Daniel double-checked the area to confirm nothing had slipped past us.

"Clean it up," I told him. "I’m heading back."

"Got it, Alpha." Daniel grinned, but I didn’t bother responding. I just sprinted out of the forest.

I made the walk alone, then took the private elevator up to the VIP lounge above the boutique.

Inside the elevator, the mirror showed a man with blood drying in his hair, shirt splattered, dark crusts caught under his nails. Me. I reeked of death and iron.

I eased the lounge door open. Lena Foster was asleep on the leather sofa, curled on her side. My jacket was draped over her shoulders, one hand tucked under her cheek.

Her torn shirt had been knotted in front, tightening around her waist. Her breathing was deep, steady. In sleep, her face softened completely, none of the sharp fire she carried when awake.

She didn’t run. She stayed exactly where I told her to. Locked the door. Waited for me. And fell asleep.

I knelt beside the sofa, leaning close to her. Her warm, faintly sweet scent filled my lungs, and for the first time all night, my wolf stopped pacing.

Everything I’d forced down during the fight surged back up. All the tension from that forest evaporated the moment I breathed her in.

I bent down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Her skin was warm and smooth. I could feel her pulse beneath it—slow, steady.

She shifted a little. A small, sleepy sigh slipped out. I moved my lips to her temple, then brushed her nose. She murmured, eyelids fluttering, finally blinking awake. Her gaze was unfocused, still foggy from sleep, staring at me without really processing anything.

"Dominic...?" Her voice was rough and soft, almost velvety. "You’re back."

"Yeah." I traced her cheek with my thumb. She leaned into my hand, eyelids drooping again, trying to stay awake and losing the battle.

"I’m... glad you came back," she whispered. Her fingers curled weakly into my sleeve. "See? I didn’t run. So don’t even think about ditching me."

I kissed the corner of her mouth. She made that sound again, a light little hum that hit straight down my spine.

She tilted her chin up, wanting more, so I gave it to her. My lips pressed to hers—gentle this time, nothing like the suffocating hunger from before. Slow, careful. Wrapped in a feeling I couldn’t even name.

She kissed me back half-asleep, clumsy but warm. Her lips parted slightly, and I tasted drowsiness... and the faint sweetness of the tea she’d had before bed.

Her hand slipped from my sleeve to the side of my neck, her fingers soft and a little limp, like she was barely holding on. But that tiny brush of her skin against my pulse still sent a sharp tremor through my chest, one I couldn’t hide and sure as hell couldn’t fight off.

"I’m not letting you go," I murmured against her lips, my voice low and rough. "You’re mine, Lena."

"Mm." She let out a faint hum, nothing more. Her eyes drifted shut again. The slight curl at the corner of her mouth wasn’t even a real smile—just her body reacting on its own as she slipped deeper into sleep.

"If you ever betray me," I whispered, my mouth grazing along her jaw as I caught the faint salt of dried sweat on her skin, "I’ll kill you."

She didn’t hear a word, of course. The hand she’d draped over my neck slid down, falling loosely to her side. Her whole body softened, sinking back into the couch cushions, safe inside whatever warm little dream cocoon she’d curled into.

I stayed there on my knees, staring at her face. The blood drying on my skin left a metallic stench in the air, but somehow it blended with her clean, familiar scent instead of smothering it.

For the first time in months, the wolf inside me was quiet. Completely quiet. It just sat there, settled and strangely content, like it had finally found the thing it’d been hunting for all along.

I tugged my jacket up, making sure it covered her shoulders before I pushed myself to my feet.

She was truly asleep—peaceful, unguarded. She had no idea that I had come back covered in blood, no idea I’d whispered threats against her skin, every gentle, twisted word spoken with absolute truth.

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