Chapter Four: Betrayal Under a faux smile

The rain was constant in this part of the mountains. A hush-fall drizzle that misted the treetops and blurred the windows. Aaliyah sat curled in a tattered armchair of the abandoned hunting lodge, blanket wrapped tight around her legs. Cold seeped through the wood floor, and the fireplace sat empty, long out of wood and patience.

She hadn’t heard from Shelly.

Not a whisper. Not a howl. Not even a scent.

But that night, someone else came.

She heard the tires long before the headlights crested the hill. Her pulse surged. She stood quickly, weapon tucked into the back of her jeans, eyes narrowed at the door. Chris was out scouting. That left her alone.

She opened it before the knock came.

Beta Nicholas stood there—Shelly’s father. Once proud, once feared. His beard was thicker now, streaked with more gray than she remembered, but his smile… that smile hadn’t changed.

It was the kind of smile that made your skin itch and your heart want to believe it anyway.

"Aaliyah," he said warmly, like they’d run into each other at a family gathering. “You’re hard to find.”

Her jaw tightened. “What do you want?”

He held up a brown bag, slightly soaked at the bottom. “Peace offering. Roasted rabbit. Still warm.”

Aaliyah hesitated.

He stepped forward, uninvited but confident. “You’ve lost weight,” he said, voice softening. “But you still look like your father. Same stubborn eyes.”

That stung more than she’d admit.

He set the bag down on the table and shrugged off his coat. “May I sit?”

She nodded stiffly.

He took the chair opposite hers, stretching his legs like he belonged there. She noticed the way his eyes moved—not just watching her, but scanning her. Evaluating. Calculating. Like a man still used to being Beta, even in a broken world.

"I was sorry to hear about Darius," he said gently.

“You didn’t come to the pyre,” Aaliyah replied, voice hollow.

He looked down, almost contrite. “Too dangerous. You know how it is. I wanted to keep Shelly safe.”

“Is she?” The words leapt from her throat like a blade. “Safe?”

Nicholas paused. Then slowly nodded. “She’s alive.”

A breath hitched in Aaliyah’s chest. Alive. Not well. Not safe. But alive.

“She wanted to come,” he continued. “But she’s... not herself. After the attack. After everything that happened. She’s broken.”

“And you?” Aaliyah asked, trying to mask the tremble in her voice. “Are you broken too?”

Nicholas chuckled lightly, and the sound made her skin crawl.

“No,” he said. “I’m wide awake.”

He leaned back, crossing his arms. “I see the game now. The power shifts. The slaughter wasn’t random. It was a message. Our packs are being groomed for a new order. A better one.”

Aaliyah’s gut clenched. “What are you talking about?”

He smiled again. Not kindly. “You don’t have to run anymore, Aaliyah. You can belong. You’re special. Always have been. Darius knew it. That’s why he kept you so... protected.”

She recoiled slightly.

Nicholas’s eyes gleamed. “But I saw you. Long before you were ready. I knew what you’d grow into. All that strength, bottled up in teenage rebellion. It’s intoxicating.”

Her heart froze. Her hands went numb.

“You’re sick,” she whispered.

“No,” he said calmly, “I’m honest. And you need someone honest, Aaliyah. Someone who understands what it means to lose everything and still be standing.”

He rose slowly, moving toward her. She stepped back.

“Nicholas—don’t,” she warned.

“I can help you,” he said, brushing a strand of damp hair from her cheek. “The triplets want you. They’ve heard the rumors. The Alpha blood. The girl who escaped the culling. They’ll pay anything.”

Her world tilted.

“You were never here to check on me,” she breathed. “You’re selling me.”

Nicholas’s smile vanished. In its place was cold calculation. “It’s not personal. It’s survival.”

Lightning flashed outside. The rain poured harder, as if the sky itself recoiled.

She moved before he did—spinning, grabbing the fire iron from the hearth and swinging it blindly. It missed. He grabbed her arm, twisting until her knees buckled.

“You don’t want to make this worse,” he hissed. “You’re not ready for what comes next. Let them tame you.”

“I will kill you!” she screamed.

Thunder answered her.

Then something hit her from behind—blunt, heavy. Stars exploded behind her eyes. She fell, breath knocked from her lungs. The floor was cold against her cheek. Distantly, she felt hands grabbing her arms.

Unseen voices whispered.

“Take her.”

Nicholas’s voice, above the chaos, was smooth and satisfied:

“Sell her. The Alpha Triplets will make her interesting.”

Aaliyah tried to scream, but blackness swallowed her.

---

When she awoke, she didn’t know how long she’d been out.

Her head pounded. Her arms were bound. Her mouth tasted of blood and damp cloth.

The world outside the moving truck—blurry trees and stormy skies—rushed past.

She was caged.

But not broken.

Not yet.