Chapter 4 HAUNT

BELLATRIX'S POV

"I can't help it, Lo," I said, taking a savage bite of the fruit. "The way they talk... like we're just tools. Like I'm just a defective version of Clara. I'm not. I'm not."

"I know you're not," Lorena said quietly. "But the pack only sees what they're told to see. And right now, they're being told you're the problem."

"Then I'll give them a problem," I muttered.

“Arrghhh. Sometimes I really feel like beating your ass but I know all it would take you is a flick of your daily fingers and I would be flying in the sky” Lorena teased.

“Oh please! As if you are any different than me. Remember the time when you beat me black and blue when I underestimated you for being an omega” I laughed, nudging her with my shoulders.

Lorena might be an omega but she is the strongest omega I've ever seen. She is a very tough but tired crack.

As soon as the final bell rang, I didn't head home. I didn't want to see my mother’s disappointed face or my father’s cold shoulder.

I burst through the school gates and headed straight for the Deep Woods, the part of the territory where even the Enforcers rarely ventured.

The forest didn't care about my rank. The trees didn't ask if I was an Alpha or a Beta. Here, the only thing that mattered was speed and strength.

I reached my sanctuary, a small clearing hidden by a curtain of weeping willows. In the center stood a makeshift training dummy I’d constructed out of old logs and burlap sacks filled with sand. It was scarred, leaking grain from a hundred different strikes.

I shed my outer tunic, standing in my thin undershirt. The air was biting, but I welcomed it because that was what I needed at the moment. I needed the cold to numb the fire in my head.

Jab. Cross. Hook.

I struck the log, the impact vibrating up my arms and into my teeth.

Clara's smile. Strike.

My mother's silence.

Strike.

Ronan’s mocking brown eyes.

I let out a guttural scream and launched into a spinning kick, my boot connecting with the wood with a crack that echoed through the trees. I didn't stop. 

I moved like a whirlwind, my body a blur of repressed rage. I practiced my footwork, dodging invisible Alphas, ducking under phantom blows.

I was fast. I was much faster than any Beta female in the pack. I had spent years studying the way the warriors moved, picking up their habits and refining them into something more fluid, more lethal. 

I wasn't just training to be a soldier; I was training to be a weapon because I needed to become one if I wanted to survive this pack.

I pulled a small, sharpened stone from my belt, a crude substitute for a knife and began practicing my marksman throws against a target I’d carved into a cedar tree. 

Thud. Thud. Thud. 

Each hit was dead center.

"Nice grouping."

I spun around, the stone held ready to throw, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Standing at the edge of the clearing was Ronan.

He wasn't wearing his school jacket anymore. He was in a simple black shirt that strained against his chest, his hands shoved into his pockets. He looked out of place in my dirty, ragged sanctuary.

"What are you doing here, Ronan?" I spat, not lowering my guard. "Did you follow me to give me another demerit for 'disrespect'? Or, are you that bored?"

He didn't answer immediately. He walked closer, his eyes scanning the clearing, the broken dummy, the worn grass, the marks on the trees. "I was wondering where you went every afternoon. The teachers say you're a slacker, but this doesn't look like slacking."

"Go away," I said, turning back to the tree. I threw the last stone. It buried itself deep into the bark.

"You're angry," he said, his voice lower now, stripped of the performative cruelty he used in front of the pack. "And you're talented. But you're sloppy. You're leading with your shoulder too much on the left hook. An Alpha would catch that and break your collarbone before you could blink."

I turned, my eyes narrowed. "Is that what you came here for? To give me a lesson? I don't want your help, Ronan. I don't want anything from you. And besides, why would you waste your time teaching a beta with no wolf how to fight?"

He took another step, entering my personal space. The scent of him, cedar, rain, and power swirled around me, making my head spin. 

For a second, the crush I’d harbored since we were children flared up, a traitorous warmth in my chest.

"You think I'm the enemy," Ronan whispered, his eyes searching for mine. 

"But the world outside these borders is a lot darker than this pack, Bellatrix. You’re training for a war you don't understand. Which is why sometimes, you are supposed to lay low and be weak"

"I understand betrayal," I said, my voice trembling. "I understand being treated like garbage by the people who are supposed to love me. That’s enough of a war for now."

Ronan reached out, his fingers hovering just inches from my cheek, his expression unreadable. For a heartbeat, I thought he might actually touch me. I thought the Alpha might finally see the girl behind the Beta.

But then, the sound of a distant whistle broke the moment.

"Ronan! Where are you?" Clara’s voice drifted through the trees, sweet and demanding.

The softness in Ronan’s face vanished instantly. He pulled his hand back, the mask of the arrogant Alpha slamming back into place. "You should get home, Bellatrix. The forest isn't safe for a girl alone. Especially one who doesn't know her place."

He turned and walked away, disappearing into the shadows without a backward glance.

I stood there in the silence, the cold air biting at my damp skin. I picked up one of my stones and gripped it so hard the edges cut into my palm.

"My place," I whispered to the empty clearing. "Just wait, Ronan. I’m going to build a place you can’t even imagine."