40
Adrian's POV
The whispers started small, like the low hum of bees circling a hive. A few sideways glances, muffled voices as I walked by, and then the inevitable silence when I entered a room. I'd been through this before, growing up as the black sheep of the pack, but now it wasn't just me they were whispering about.
They were talking about her.
Bethany.
I tried to brush it off at first. Let them talk, I thought. Let them speculate. But the rumors were gaining traction, twisting into something uglier.
"I heard she spends a lot of time in his cabin," someone murmured in the hall.
"She's always been an outsider. Maybe that's why she's clinging to him," another voice chimed in.
And the one that made my blood boil: "You think she's trying to climb the pack ladder through him?"
I wanted to rip out the throats of every person spreading those lies, but I couldn't. Not without proving them right.
Bethany deserved better than this. She didn't need my temper adding fuel to the fire. But that didn't mean I could sit idly by, either.
The final straw came when I overheard Mason in the training yard, his voice loud enough to carry over the sparring noises.
"She's always been trouble," he said to a group of younger wolves, his tone casual but laced with venom. "Doesn't surprise me she'd latch onto Adrian. Misfits find each other, don't they?"
A few chuckles followed his words, and I saw red.
I inhaled deeply, deciding I'd find him later and have a proper talk with him. Brawling in front of the pack members wasn't going to do us any good.
I walked away, going to the lake not far away from here to take a swim. After taking a swim and making sure I was calm and levelheaded enough, I went back to the pack house gym and found Mason throwing punches at a heavy bag with a ferocity that mirrored my own rage. He was shirtless, his muscles slick with sweat, and his movements were sharp and precise.
"Mason."
He didn't stop. His fists slammed into the bag in a rapid rhythm, each hit echoing like a war drum.
"Mason!" I barked.
He froze, his fists still pressed against the bag. Slowly, he turned to face me, his smirk already in place.
"Well, if it isn't the pack's favorite rogue," he drawled, wiping sweat from his brow. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
I stepped closer, keeping my voice low and even. "We need to talk."
His smirk widened. "About what? Your new pet project?"
My jaw tightened. "Bethany isn't a project, and you know it. What the hell is your problem with her?"
He shrugged, turning back to the bag. "No problem. Just calling it like I see it."
"You're spreading rumors about her," I said, my voice sharp. "Dragging her name through the mud. That's low, even for you. She was your fiancé for god's sake."
He threw another punch, the bag swaying violently. "If the truth hurts, that's not my fault."
I grabbed his arm before he could throw another punch, forcing him to face me. "What truth, Mason? That you're jealous? That you can't stand the idea of someone else getting close to her?"
His eyes darkened, and he yanked his arm free. "Watch it, Adrian."
"No, you watch it," I snapped. "You're crossing a line, and you know it. She's done nothing to deserve this, but you're turning the entire pack against her just because you can't control yourself."
His lip curled, and his wolf flickered behind his eyes. "You think you're the hero here? You think you can just waltz in and protect her from everything? Newsflash, Adrian: you're the reason they're talking about her in the first place."
I flinched, his words hitting harder than I wanted to admit.
"You think you're helping her," he continued, stepping closer. "But all you're doing is making her life harder. People don't trust you, Adrian. They never have. And now they don't trust her either."
"She doesn't need their trust," I said, my voice steady. "She needs someone who won't stab her in the back. Someone who won't exploit her vulnerabilities for their own gain."
Mason's laugh was cold and humorless. "You think you're that someone? Don't kid yourself. You're just as selfish as the rest of us."
"Maybe," I admitted. "But at least I don't hide behind my pack status to tear people down."
For a moment, I thought he might take a swing at me, but instead, he stepped back, shaking his head.
"She's not worth it, Adrian," he said quietly, his voice laced with something I couldn't quite place. "You'll see that eventually."
I clenched my fists, my wolf howling inside me to retaliate, to show him just how wrong he was. But I forced myself to stay calm.
"You're wrong," I said. "She's worth everything."
With that, I turned and walked away, leaving Mason to stew in his own bitterness.
I stepped out of the compound, walking straight towards the woods and then paused when I saw Bethany sitting by the edge of the forest.
She looked lost, her arms wrapped around her knees as she stared into the distance.
"Hey," I said softly, sitting down beside her.
She didn't look at me. "Hey."
For a while, we sat in silence, the sounds of the forest filling the space between us.
"They're talking about me, aren't they?" she asked finally, her voice barely above a whisper.
I hesitated. "Yes."
She nodded, her gaze fixed on the trees. "I thought so."
I wanted to tell her it didn't matter, that the pack's opinions were irrelevant. But I knew that wasn't true. For people like us, the pack's judgment was everything.
"I'm sorry," I said instead.
She glanced at me, her eyes filled with exhaustion. "For what?"
"For not being able to protect you from this."
Her lips twitched into a sad smile. "You can't protect me from everything, Adrian."
"Doesn't mean I won't try."
She sighed, leaning her head against my shoulder. "I don't know how much more of this I can take."
"You're stronger than you think," I said, wrapping an arm around her. "And I'll be here, no matter what."
Her fingers curled into the fabric of my shirt, her grip tight. "Promise?"
"Promise," I said, meaning every word.