All Chapters of ALPHA'S BETA MATE: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Third Person POVThe banquet hall was alive with chatter, clinking glasses, and the subtle hum of admiration for the new ownership. Quinton had organized it as a formal thank-you, yet even in a sea of doctors and staff, he dominated the room—not with words, but his powerful presence. Tailored suit cutting across his broad shoulders, every movement precise and controlled, hair slightly tousled as if he hadn’t needed to try to look perfect—he drew eyes without effort.Quinton moved among the crowd, a striking figure and sight to behold. He smiled, charming, approachable, friendly but his eyes avoided Hudson, and the human’s heart thudded painfully each time he caught sight of him. The drop-dead gorgeous Alpha was friendly with everyone to make each smile feel like a personal gift. Hudson’s pulse stuttered. His heart betrayed him before his brain could even try to suppress it. Every lean, controlled movement of Quinton—the tilt of a head, the adjustment of his cuff—made Hudson's chest ti

Characters:Harvey Thunderstorm – Xayden and Nox’s Seventh Child (28 years old) and billionaire CEO of a famous conglomerate.Kyle Silvermoon – Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack and a genius bike designer (27 years old).Aaron – A human orphan and manny (male nanny) to the Alpha couple’s baby (21 years old)Third Person POVAaron barely made it out alive.He didn’t stop running until his lungs burned and his legs trembled beneath him, until the house behind him became nothing but a blur swallowed by darkness. The night air cut against his skin, cold and sharp, but he welcomed it—it meant he was still breathing. Bruises bloomed along his ribs and arms, half-hidden beneath borrowed clothes that hung loose on his frail frame. Blood had dried at the corner of his mouth. His wrist throbbed where fingers had gripped too tightly, held too long.He didn’t look back. He never would. He was going to leave behind his abusive adoptive parents for good – either by escaping or by dying by fate’s hand t

On the ride home, Aaron pressed in without being told. Kyle’s hand settled firmly on Aaron’s thigh this time, fingers spreading, grounding him through every curve of the road. Not rushing. Not taking. Just reminding him exactly where he was.When they pulled into the driveway, neither of them moved to get off right away.Kyle cut the engine. The sudden quiet was deafening.“You still with me?” Kyle asked softly.Aaron nodded, forehead resting between Kyle’s shoulder blades. “Yes.”Kyle reached back and squeezed his thigh once more—slow, deliberate. “Good boy.”There was that phrase again. Good boy. Aaron’s heart jumpstarted.“You ride well,” Kyle murmured near his ear. “Responsive. Sensitive.”Aaron’s heart almost gave out.Finally, Kyle swung off the bike in one smooth motion.Aaron stayed where he was.The seat was still warm beneath him, legs loose, hands resting uncertainly at his sides. He leaned back instinctively, spine arching as the bike steadied him, breath still uneven from

Harvey had learned control early.Control over boardrooms. Over balance sheets. Over other men’s posturing and power plays. Control over the wolf that lived beneath his skin—patient, supreme, coiled tight behind bone and discipline.What he had not learned—what no Alpha was ever truly taught—was how to endure seeing his mate chosen by the pup before he himself had earned the right.The moment Harvey stepped into the house and saw Aaron asleep upright in the bed, their child cradled perfectly against his chest, something in him shifted.The fading imprint-mark on Aaron’s shoulder glimmered faintly to Harvey’s senses, invisible to the eye but roaring to the wolf. The bite marks on Aaron’s palm sealed it.The cub had chosen.And Harvey’s wolf surged forward in response—violent, possessive, reverent all at once.Mine!Harvey sucked in a sharp breath and turned away before the sound became a growl.Kyle noticed immediately.“Harv,” Kyle said quietly, already moving. “You need air, babe.”“

Third PersonThree weeks passed.Vance did not move.The hospital room became his entire world—white walls, steady monitors, the quiet rise and fall of Azrion’s chest. Hunger dulled. Thirst faded. Time lost meaning. He sat in the same chair day after day, fingers wrapped around Azrion’s unmoving hand, as though letting go might finally make it real.This was why he had rejected him.This was why he had endured twelve years of loneliness.To protect him.And now Azrion had thrown it all away.“How could you do this to me?” Vance whispered hoarsely one night, silver eyes burning. “How could you decide my life wasn’t worth keeping you alive?”No answer came.The door creaked softly.Azrion’s fingers twitched.Vance froze.Slowly—agonizingly slowly—Azrion’s eyes opened.Blue. Clear. Alive.“You always accuse me of being selfish,” Azrion murmured weakly. “But you never notice when you are.”Vance surged to his feet so fast the chair clattered backward. “You—” His voice broke. “You’re awake