MATED TO THE BEAST ALPHA BROTHERS

"Why do they hate me so much?" Haelyn's voice was barely above a whisper as she sat on the stone bench in the secluded garden of the Lunar Solace pack grounds.

Artemis stood nearby, leaning against the trunk of an ancient oak tree, his sharp green eyes studying her. "They don't hate you, Haelyn. They're just... blind to what matters. Cruel people often are."

She scoffed, wiping her damp cheeks with the back of her hand. "That's just a nice way of saying they hate me. My father, my stepmother, Layla, Malcolm…all of them. Do you know what it's like to feel like you're a ghost in your own home? Like your existence is a burden they have to tolerate?"

Artemis straightened, a frown deepening the lines on his face. "You're not a ghost. You're not a burden. You're Haelyn—resilient, compassionate, fierce. You've endured what others wouldn't survive."

"Endured?" she repeated bitterly. "Strength is enduring years of being told I killed my mother. Strength is watching my stepmother look at me like I'll never measure up to Layla. It's pretending I'm fine when all I feel is broken. Then there's him..." Her voice cracked.

Artemis's jaw tightened, and he moved closer, crouching before her. "Haelyn," he said, his voice low and steady, "none of that is your fault. Not your mother's death, not their cruelty, not Archer's mistakes. They don't define you."

She looked at him, her golden-brown eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I'm so tired, Artemis," she whispered. "Tired of fighting, of feeling like I'm never enough."

"You don't have to carry this alone anymore," he murmured, reaching out to gently cup her cheek. His thumb brushed away a stray tear, his touch warm and steady.

There was a charged silence between them, the tension thick and unyielding. Then, without warning, Haelyn leaned forward, their lips meeting in a kiss that was hesitant yet desperate.

"Haelyn," Artemis murmured against her lips, his voice filled with both longing and hesitation. "We shouldn't..."

"Please," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I need to feel something that isn't pain."

His resolve faltered as he cupped her face with both hands, deepening the kiss. His lips moved against hers with a mix of tenderness and urgency, as though trying to convey everything words couldn't.

Her fingers tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer, and he responded, wrapping his arms around her. The stone bench was cold beneath her as he eased her back, his body pressing gently against hers.

"Artemis," she whispered his name, her voice trembling as his lips trailed down her jawline to the hollow of her throat.

"Haelyn, tell me to stop," he breathed, his voice strained. "Because if I don't..."

"I don't want you to stop," she said, her hands clinging to him like he was her only anchor.

But as their bodies moved in sync, a voice inside her—her wolf—whispered, This is wrong. He's not our mate. Stop, Haelyn. This isn't right.

Her breath hitched as the thought sliced through her haze. "Artemis, wait..." she began, but his lips silenced her, soft and insistent.

Her wolf's protests grew louder. Stop. You'll regret this.

When it was over, Artemis lay beside her, his breathing uneven. The moonlight bathed the garden in an ethereal glow, but Haelyn felt anything but serene.

Artemis sat up abruptly, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I shouldn't have done that," he said, his voice thick with regret.

Tears welled in her eyes as she pulled her knees to her chest. "I... I don't know what came over me."

He turned to look at her, guilt etched into every line of his face. "I'm sorry, Haelyn. I let my emotions get the better of me. I should've stopped."

"You should've," she agreed, her voice barely audible.

Artemis rose, his movements stiff and jerky. "This won't happen again. I swear it."

"Artemis..." Her voice broke, but he didn't turn back.

"I'm sorry," he said again before disappearing into the shadows of the Lunar Solace gardens.

As his footsteps faded, Haelyn buried her face in her hands and broke down. Sobs wracked her body as guilt, shame, and confusion overwhelmed her. Her wolf's voice was faint now, but its judgment lingered: We betrayed Archer.

She sat there for what felt like hours, the cool night air chilling her skin.

---

At the Silver Howl pack manor, Layla flung herself onto the plush couch in the sitting room, her face buried in their mother Helena's lap as she wailed.

"It's not fair, Mother! I should've been Archer's Luna, not her!"

Helena's perfectly manicured fingers stroked her daughter's hair, though her expression was cool and calculating. "Crying won't change anything, Layla."

"But it's his fault!" Layla snapped, glaring at their father, who stood near the fireplace with his back to them. "If he'd just let me marry Archer, none of this would've happened!"

Their father turned, his silver hair glinting in the firelight. "Archer didn't choose you, Layla. That was his decision. Perhaps you should stop blaming everyone else and take a hard look at yourself."

Layla gasped, her fists clenching. "How dare you!"

"Enough!" he barked. "Haelyn is Archer's Luna, and that's final. Stop embarrassing yourself."

He left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Layla's tear-streaked face twisted with fury as she turned to her mother. "He's wrong. I should've been chosen. Haelyn doesn't deserve him!"

Helena tilted her head, a sly smile playing on her lips. "And what do you plan to do about it?"

Layla's eyes narrowed, determination sparking. "I'll take her place. I'll make Archer see I'm the Luna he truly needs. And you're going to help me."

Helena's smile widened. "Very well, darling. Let's begin."

---

Back in her room, Haelyn lay still in bed, her mind racing with guilt. The reflection of her emotions in the mirror earlier had been haunting, but now the stillness of the room felt suffocating. Archer's scent lingered faintly, entwined with the memory of his firm but gentle touch when he'd taken her hand and led her outside.

The door creaked open, and her breath hitched, though she quickly forced her body to relax, pretending to be asleep. She didn't need to look to know it was Archer; his commanding presence filled the space effortlessly.

He lingered at the doorway, his gaze piercing through the darkness as though he could see through her charade. Then came the sound of his deliberate steps as he moved into the room.

Haelyn kept her breathing steady, willing herself not to react as the mattress dipped under his weight. She felt the tension radiating off him, unspoken but palpable.

"Haelyn," he murmured, his voice low, almost hesitant.

She didn't respond.

A moment passed, and then Archer shifted closer, the warmth of his body seeping into hers as his arm wrapped around her waist. Her wolf stirred at the contact, a mix of longing and guilt tugging at her heart.

She stiffened slightly, but Archer didn't pull back. Instead, his hold tightened, grounding her. His chin rested lightly against her hair as his breath brushed against her neck.

"You're terrible at pretending, little wolf," he said quietly, a hint of amusement laced with concern in his tone.

Her lips pressed together, and her heart pounded in her chest. She still couldn't face him…not after everything.

Archer didn't press further. "Whatever's eating at you," he continued softly, "you don't have to carry it alone. I'm here."

The words struck a chord deep within her, and for a fleeting moment, she wanted to turn around and bury herself in him, to let him shoulder the weight of her guilt and fears. But she stayed still, too afraid of what might happen if she let herself be vulnerable. But again, she wondered what had suddenly gotten into him and why he cared so much now.

Archer let out a slow breath, his grip on her firm but not confining. The silence that followed wasn't awkward…it was steady, comforting. It felt as if he was silently telling her he wouldn't leave, even if she wouldn't speak. And as Haelyn lay there, cocooned in his warmth, the ache in her chest eased ever so slightly. For now, it was enough.