Chosen by the Beast Alpha

Chapter 44: Chapter 44

Lena’s POV

I sat on the edge of the bed, watching the clock on the nightstand tick past eleven. Dominic still wasn’t home.

Ever since he’d walked out right after taking that call at the party, there had been nothing but silence. Hours of it.

My phone buzzed. Celeste’s name lit up the screen, and I picked up almost instantly.

"Lena, sweetheart." Her voice carried that usual warmth, but there was a hint of tension woven into it. "I just wanted to tell you that you did wonderfully today. The way you handled the Slade family, the way you carried yourself at the gathering—it made me so proud of you."

"Thank you, Luna Celeste." My voice caught at the end.

"And you and Dominic..." she went on, each word sounding carefully placed, "the two of you looked... right together. Truly. There’s something genuine between you. I can see it."

I pressed my lips together, not sure what to say to that.

"Listen," she softened her tone, gentle but threaded with urgency. "I know this arrangement wasn’t what either of you wanted. I want you to understand that once you help him through this, you’ll have your freedom. If you want to leave after the curse is lifted, I’ll support whatever you choose."

Freedom. It should have felt like a relief. But instead, my stomach hollowed out. Imagining myself packing up, walking away from Dominic, never hearing his footsteps on the stairs again—it didn’t feel like freedom at all. It felt like someone cutting off a part of me.

"I understand," I said, because I honestly had no idea how to explain the mess inside my head.

Celeste’s voice dropped lower, all the worry she’d been holding back finally slipping through. "Lena, the next full moon is close. Dominic’s curse is getting worse, and it could hit at any moment. He needs to be prepared—and he needs you with him."

Her words made the anxiety in my chest spike. Which meant I had to find Dominic. Fast.

So after hanging up, I called Samuel Clarke. The phone barely rang four times before he picked up, sounding irritatingly relaxed. "Lena? You calling me? Well, that’s a surprise."

"Do you know where Dominic is?" I asked, not bothering with polite small talk.

There was a long stretch of silence before he finally said, "Sorry, no clue. But I’m pretty damn sure he’s fine. Dominic doesn’t get into trouble he can’t crawl back out of. Mostly because he is the trouble."

He tried to joke, but it didn’t help. I thanked him anyway, hung up, tossed my phone onto the mattress, and covered my face with both hands.

Dominic, where are you?

I had no idea how long I sat like that—long enough for my legs to go numb and my eyes to sting.

Then I heard it. The front door. Heavy, dragging footsteps moving slowly up the stairs.

Dominic appeared in the doorway. His shirt was rumpled, collar open, sleeves shoved up past his forearms. He wasn’t hurt, but he looked drained—like something had been sucked right out of him, leaving nothing but the shell behind.

I shot to my feet, studying his face like I was trying to crack some secret code.

"Where did you go?"

"Met an old friend." His tone was plain to the point of cold. "Doesn’t matter. You should get some sleep."

He brushed past me, heading straight for the study, shutting the door behind him.

I stood there in the hallway, a whole pile of questions stuck in my throat. I wanted to force him to talk, to ask who had called, why he looked like he was carrying a mountain on his back.

But I held back.

I walked into the bathroom, washed my face, changed into pajamas, crawled under the covers, pulled the blanket up to my chin, and closed my eyes.

When he wants to talk, he’ll tell me; if he doesn’t, pushing won’t help.

A door he refuses to open is one I can’t push through.

Dominic’s POV

Actually, on Christmas Eve, Eliza sent me a message: "Dominic. I want to come back to you. Right now."

I stared at those words for a long time. Lena’s hand was gripping my shirt, her breathing steady against my chest, so quiet I didn’t dare move.

I set the phone aside without replying.

But today, Eliza called. Her voice was urgent. She said she’d reached the edge of Bloodmoon Pack territory, said she had to see me, immediately.

So I went. I didn’t tell my parents. Didn’t tell Samuel Clarke. Didn’t tell Lena Foster.

She was waiting for me in a hotel. The moment I walked in, she stood up from her chair. The woman who had been a crying, devastated mess was gone, replaced by the Eliza I remembered.

"Thanks for coming, Dominic."

She looked renewed. New clothes, perfect makeup, not a trace of bruising. Her transformation was so stark it caught me off guard. She knew exactly how to use her beauty. She always had.

"Your lawyer’s handling your case," I said, standing by the door. "Samuel will update you soon. So what’s so urgent you had to show up here yourself?"

"You know that’s not why I asked you here."

She stepped forward. "I made a mistake. The biggest damn mistake of my life. I shouldn’t have left you. I was scared, I was stupid, and I’ve been regretting it every single day."

The faint light in her eyes tightened something in my chest. As much as I hated to admit it, three years of memories don’t disappear just because I deny them.

"I know about her," Eliza’s voice dropped. "That Omega. Lena. I know she’s living in your house, pretending to be your partner. But Dominic, she doesn’t know you. Not like I do. And she never loved you the way I did."

"You never loved me." The words slipped out of her, sharp enough to cut. "You loved the version of me without the curse. The moment reality didn’t match your fantasy, you bolted."

"I really messed up back then." She stepped closer, fingers curling around my arm. That familiar warmth hit me, and my whole body locked up.

"Give me one more chance, okay? Let me show you I’m different now." Her voice was soft but steady. "I can be what you need, Dominic. I can help you break the curse."

She leaned in, rising on her toes, trying to kiss me like she’d done a hundred times before.

Once, that pull she had over me was impossible to fight. But right then, Lena’s face flashed in my mind.

The woman who saw straight through the beast in me, who told me point-blank my kissing sucked. The woman who’d proudly hold up a burnt potato like it was a trophy. On Christmas Eve, she curled into my chest, mumbling "Mom" in her sleep. The same woman who cried quietly because she’d been taught silence was the only way to survive.

My chest tightened so hard it hurt. I jerked my head away from Eliza before I even realized I was doing it. She froze, obviously thrown off.

"I’ll make sure Marcus stays away from you," I told her, peeling her fingers off my arm one by one. "I said I’d help you, and I will. But that’s where it ends, Eliza. There’s no going back."

This time, Eliza didn’t break down. She just stared at me, something complicated flickering behind her damp eyes, gone before I could name it.

I walked out of the hotel and drove home.

On the way back, I kept bracing myself. Lena had to be awake. She’d ask where I went, who I was with, what I was hiding.

Maybe she’d cry, maybe she’d yell, maybe both. I didn’t want to deal with any of it, and just imagining the scene made my nerves buzz with irritation.

But things didn’t play out the way I expected. When I stepped inside, she was sitting calmly on the bed. She asked where I’d been. I didn’t answer. I just shut the door.

And that was it. No accusations. No tears. No interrogation.

I let out a long breath. It should’ve felt like relief. No feelings meant no strings attached. That was the whole deal: free, clean and simple.

At least, that’s what I kept repeating to myself. But sitting alone in the dark study, I didn’t feel free at all. I just felt like something was slipping away from me.

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