MATED TO THE ALPHA BEAST

Isabella’s POV

The paper in my hand felt like a loaded weapon—heavier than my rifle, heavier than any mission I’d ever carried out.

“I’m resigning, sir.”

Colonel Reddick looked up from his desk slowly, eyes narrowed behind silver-rimmed glasses. “You’re serious?”

“Yes.” I handed over the letter. My fingers didn’t shake. I didn’t let them.

He stared at it like it insulted him. “You’re one of the youngest, fastest promoted soldiers in this unit. After everything you’ve achieved? Now you’re walking away?”

“I’m not walking away,” I said. “I’m walking toward something else.”

He didn’t ask what. He already knew.

“Your father wouldn’t have approved.”

“My father’s dead.” I interrupted.

The words sat like ice on my tongue. “His death doesn’t change the fact that he raised you for this.”

“No. He raised me to be his version of strong. But I want to find out what my strength is.”

I saluted him one last time. “Thank you for the training, sir.”

Then I turned and walked away—head high, spine straight, and heart beating fast against my ribs. Not out of fear. Not even out of doubt. But because I could feel it.

Something had been unlocked. And whatever it was… it was waiting for me.

By nightfall, I’d packed everything that mattered into two duffel bags. My apartment felt empty already, like it belonged to someone else. The photo of my father stared down at me from the bookshelf, sharp-eyed and unyielding.

“I’m not sorry,” I said aloud.

I knelt beside the bed and pulled out the leather-bound journal I’d stolen from one of his kills. The Wolf Archives. My father would’ve destroyed it if he knew I still had it.

Inside were sketches and notes. Myths, curses, markings. Alphas. Beasts. Warnings. The phrase “fated mate” appeared too many times to count.

I should’ve been afraid. Instead… I was intrigued

*~* MELBOURNE CITY

Melbourne was alive.

Loud. Electric. Sinister in the most seductive way. And I felt it in my blood the second I stepped off the plane.

Anthonia met me at the airport with open arms and rolling eyes. “You didn’t tell me you were quitting the damn army! What the hell happened?”

“I got tired of fighting wars that weren’t mine.”

“That sounds poetic, but also like you’re losing your mind.”

“I might be,” I smiled. “Wanna help?”

She laughed. “Always.”

Back at the apartment, I met up with Genesis and Jethro again—two wild spirits with too much love and not enough boundaries. It felt like home, even if my skin still tingled like it didn’t belong in this world. That night, we decided to go out—to celebrate my “new life,” as Genesis called it. I didn’t argue. Deep down, I felt the pull… "Something was drawing me out.

“Wear something dangerous,” Anthonia said, tossing me a dress.

It wasn’t a dress.

It was a black satin scrap of sin—backless, with thin straps that looped like fingers over my shoulders. It clung to my curves like it had been sewn onto me, stopping high above the thigh. My skin shimmered with body oil. My long legs were on full display in stiletto heels, and I’d applied just enough makeup to make my eyes speak louder than my lips.

I looked in the mirror and barely recognized the woman staring back.

Wild. Bold. It was starved for something she couldn’t name.

The club was called NOX. Hidden. Exclusive. No signs, no music outside. It's just a massive steel door guarded by a man with eyes like a wolf.

He looked me up and down, then stepped aside without a word.

The second I stepped inside, everything changed.

The air was thick—hot, electric, and alive. The music pulsed like a second heartbeat. Lights sliced through smoke. Bodies moved like shadows under red and violet strobes.

I felt him the moment I entered.

Not saw.

Felt.

My skin lit up. My breath caught. My stomach dropped like I was on the edge of something massive, and I was about to fall straight into it.

He was across the room.

Tall. Carved. Still as stone.

His presence pressed against my lungs before I even made eye contact. And when I did—

My world split open.

His eyes… silver like moonlight on a blade. They met mine and held them. My throat went dry. Every part of my body tensed.

I’d never seen him before. But somehow, some terrible and beautiful part of me knew him.

His jaw flexed. His chest rose slow.

I took a step forward.

He didn’t move. I blinked—and suddenly, he was gone. No. No, I’d imagined it. The lights. The heat. I was spiralling.

Then, a voice curled against my ear. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

I turned so fast that I nearly stumbled.

He stood right behind me.

God.

He was taller up close. Broader. His skin was golden-bronze, his cheekbones sharp, lips full and parted like he’d just said something sinful. Every inch of him screamed power. Hunger. Control.

“You—” My mouth was dry. “I don’t know you.”

His eyes scanned my body like a slow caress. “But I know you, Isabella.” He said my name like he owned it. Like he’d branded it into his tongue.

“How?”

He stepped closer. The heat between us was unbearable. My body reacted before my mind could protest—my thighs clenched, my breath hitched, my nipples tightened under the dress.

“I can smell you,” he whispered. “Fire. Blood. Fate.”

I was trembling—and I didn’t want to stop.

My heart beat so loud I thought the room could hear it. He leaned in, voice low and deep. “You were made for me.”

“I don’t—” I started, but my voice failed. He raised his hand slowly—didn’t touch me, just let his fingers hover near my neck.

“You don’t understand yet. But your body already knows me.”

Then he turned away, disappearing into the crowd like he was never there.

I stood there, legs shaking, skin flushed, lips parted.

I should’ve run.

I should’ve screamed.

But all I could think was…

God, I want him. And somewhere deep inside, something darker whispered:

He already has you.