Rejected by my Alpha, Loved by my Beta
We barely met two weeks ago, and now she was this person I didn’t want to see come to any harm.
I looked up at the TV screen, which sprang to life showing a frenzy in the arena. The roar of the crowd echoed through the speakers, a tidal wave that vibrated in the locker room.
Tamara climbed into the octagon, her joggers baggy but her body taut, septum ring glinting in the spotlights as a dare. Her opponent from Moon River pack, Roman Winston, was a tank of muscle—wide shoulders and no neck, buzz-cut head, narrow focus eyes. He bounced on his toes, cracking his knuckles that seemed capable of tearing stone.
Bab Populer