Chosen by the Beast Alpha

Chapter 55: Chapter 55

Lena’s POV

The first thing that hit me was the warmth. Then came the pain—sharp, nagging, pulsing along my ribs every time I tried to breathe. My head felt stuffed with cotton, my limbs heavy like someone had poured sand into my bones. My mouth tasted like dust and metal, dry to the extreme.

I forced my eyes open.

The ceiling above me looked familiar, sunlight spilling in through the tall windows, soft and golden, like it was trying to wrap the whole room in a warm hug.

I was in a bed. In Dominic’s arms.

His chest was pressed against my back, solid and warm, and his arm curled around my waist, carefully avoiding my injured side.

I could feel his breathing—steady, grounding—and the thump of his heartbeat tapping lightly against my shoulder blade. He smelled like that clean cedar soap he always used, mixed with his usual calm, subtle scent. No blood. No damp stone. None of that nightmare from the basement.

He shifted when he felt me move. Lowered his head. And suddenly his eyes lit up.

"Lena? You’re awake?"

And then he smiled.

Not the tight, forced smile he used to give. Not that mocking twist of his lips. This one was real. Barely-there, but warm and honest.

That tiny smile softened all the hard lines of his jaw, changing his whole face. I’d never seen him look like that. I couldn’t help staring.

We’d lived together for months. Argued. Slept side by side. Kissed. I’d dragged myself across a blood-soaked floor for him. But I had never—not once—seen him smile like this.

I tried to shift my weight, and a spike of pain shot through my ribs. I sucked in a breath.

His arm tightened.

"Don’t move."

I froze. His voice was low and rough, like he hadn’t slept at all—or like he’d been holding on by a thread for too long. Maybe both. But it was his voice. Not the thing from the basement. Not the creature with red eyes and broken whispers. Him.

"How long was I out?" I asked.

"Since last night. You passed out in the basement. I brought you back."

Pieces of memory slowly drifted back. My face buried against his neck. His body shaking. His arms around me. Him saying my name over and over. And then—nothing.

"You carried me all the way back to the manor?"

"Daniel drove. I held you."

My stomach churned, and I pressed my lips together, staring up at the ceiling.

"You carried me the whole way?" I asked. I wasn’t sure why that detail mattered so much, but somehow it did.

"Yeah." His voice dropped to almost a whisper. "You kept clinging to my shirt in your sleep. Every time I tried to shift you so you’d be more comfortable, your fingers just tightened. So I gave up."

My throat tightened. I could almost picture it, which somehow made it even more embarrassing.

"Your rib was broken," he said from behind me. "The pack doctor fixed it while you were out. She said you’ll be fine, but... it’ll take a few weeks."

"I’ve had worse."

"I know you have." His tone changed on those four words, raw and torn, like it actually hurt him to say it. "That’s the part that kills me, Lena."

I blinked. That was definitely not the response I expected. I thought he’d throw in some sarcastic jab, like he always used to.

I lay there, breathing carefully through the pain, feeling his heartbeat against my back. The room stayed quiet — just sunlight, warmth, and the sound of the two of us breathing.

"Dominic."

"Yeah?"

"You’re holding me. Right now. You know that, right?"

His arms stiffened. I felt the hesitation run through him — the instinct to pull away, to rebuild that wall of distance he always hid behind.

I braced myself for the sudden cold.

But he didn’t move. His arms stayed exactly where they were.

"You scared the hell out of me. In that basement," he said. The smile was gone from his voice, but the softness stayed. "When that thing threw you into the wall and I heard your rib crack, I lost it. I was trapped inside my own body, and I couldn’t make a sound. I watched it hurt you, and I couldn’t do anything. Nothing."

His hand lifted, fingers brushing my skin with a shaky gentleness. "You were covered in blood, barely breathing. You had every reason to run. But you crawled across the floor, held my face, and kissed me."

His thumb traced the line of my cheekbone, feather-light. "No one’s ever done something like that for me. You kissed a monster."

"You’re not a monster," I said, my voice breaking. "None of that was your fault."

"I’m the one who broke your rib."

"The curse did that. You came back to yourself — that’s what matters."

He went quiet for a long time. I could tell he was wrestling with something huge, like gears grinding behind that iron wall he used to keep between himself and the world.

"The beast went still," he finally said. "The moment you kissed me, it stopped. I’ve fought it my whole life, and nothing ever shut it up. But you did. You—ribs broken, blood on your lips—and you were still stubborn enough to stay."

"I’m not stubborn," I muttered.

My eyes burned. I blinked hard and stared at the ceiling, refusing to let more tears fall. I’d cried enough in that basement to last me several lifetimes.

Dominic was opening up in a way he never could before, now that the curse wasn’t smothering him. He wasn’t that cold, distant version of himself anymore.

"Don’t cry," he murmured, his lips brushing my forehead, warm and steady. "You’re safe. I’ve got you."

A sound escaped me—half-laugh, half-sob. "That was supposed to be my line."

Before I could shove the memory back down, it flooded me—the beast’s twisted voice using Dominic’s mouth, dripping poison.

Every time he disappeared, he was running to Eliza. Always to Eliza.

I knew it was the curse twisting everything. I knew the monster aimed for the softest parts and hit hard. But the words themselves—were they lies? Or was that single sentence the only truth it ever spoke?

Was the person Dominic held closest... me? Or Eliza?

I opened my mouth to ask, but the bedroom door slammed open.

Celeste rushed inside, and the calm she always wore shattered the second she saw us.

Her eyes were red, her jaw trembling. She crossed the room in a heartbeat and wrapped me up in her arms.

"I knew it," she whispered, voice rough and breaking right by my ear. "From the moment you stepped into the Bloodmoon Pack, I knew. Lena, you actually did it."

Her hands were shaking. This woman who held an entire pack together with pure willpower was trembling, her tears soaking into my hair.

"Thank you, Lena." She pulled back, cupped my face, and looked at me with warm brown eyes brimming with tears. "Thank you for bringing Dominic back."

"I didn’t do anything special," I stammered, my voice wobbling. "I just... didn’t leave."

"That’s the bravest thing anyone’s ever done." She pressed her forehead to mine, her praise raw and honest.

I caught the faint floral scent on her—soft, comforting, almost like a mother’s touch. "This is the first full moon night where no one died. No guards had to sacrifice themselves to hold him down. No bodies to bury. No families to compensate. Do you understand what that means?"

My stomach dropped, cold all the way through. Corpses. Families waiting for answers. Every full moon before me, someone had died. I was the only one who’d ever walked away.

Celeste finally let go of me and wiped the corners of her eyes. "My child," she murmured, voice soft, "welcome home."

That warmth of being accepted like family made me weirdly uneasy. Instinctively, I glanced over at Dominic, and sure enough, he was already watching me, like his eyes had never really left.

For a moment, I shelved the question I’d almost asked earlier, because there was another one—one that mattered even more.

Ever since that morning when he had Samuel drop the termination papers at my doorstep, this question had been sitting heavy in my chest. Now it finally rose up, pushing its way to the tip of my tongue.

"Dominic," I blurted out, unable to hold it back anymore, "do we still need to end the agreement?"

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