Chapter 10 The Beta Upholds Order
Darius reached the eastern side of the pack grounds long before sunrise, his pace steady and controlled. The air hung cold around him and the sky had only begun to lighten with a faint gray. He was not here out of concern for Alberto. The alpha had given him a mission. He followed it. That was all a beta ever needed. Order was the spine of the pack. Obedience was its strength.
He moved toward the hidden tunnel entrance that cut beneath the old stone ridge. Alberto should have already passed through it by now. The boy had insisted on carrying out that mission despite Fernando excusing him from training. Darius expected to find nothing more than disturbed dirt and the faint trace of his scent.
But the moment he crouched near the rocks and placed his palm against the ground he felt it. Too many footsteps. Not one. Not two. A gathering.
Darius straightened slowly. His expression did not change, but something sharpened behind his eyes. The tunnel was supposed to be known only to a few. Slaves were never given such access. If they had come here, it was not by accident. And if they had crossed paths with Alberto, then they had interfered with a command that came directly from the alpha’s house.
That was enough to demand order.
He stepped into the tunnel.
The stone walls tightened around him immediately, the cold settling deeper. Darius moved silently, shoulders square, posture unshaken. The faint flicker of firelight glowed ahead, and he heard voices. Low, careless, too relaxed for anyone who felt the threat of authority. That alone marked them as fools.
The smell hit him next. Blood. Not much. Not enough for death. But fresh. Worry did not touch him. Worry implied attachment. Instead he felt the clean, cold focus that came before discipline.
He quickened his pace.
A turn in the passage opened into a small cavern. Ten men lingered there, all slaves by their scent and clothing. They were laughing among themselves, unaware or unbothered that their voices echoed through a restricted area. One of them held a lantern. Another leaned against the wall with crossed arms. They carried themselves with the looseness of those who believed no one important was watching.
They noticed Darius only when he stepped fully into the light.
Their laughter stopped.
His gaze dropped once to the ground.
Alberto’s bag lay ripped open. Supplies scattered. The map Darius had given him lay torn near the bag, edges shredded as if stepped on repeatedly.
Darius lifted his eyes again. His voice carried no emotion, only the weight of rank.
“Where is the owner of this.”
The men exchanged glances. One stepped forward. He was broad shouldered, with a swelling confidence that had clearly never been checked. His voice dripped with insolence.
“Not our problem. Maybe he ran after we taught him a lesson. You are alone. There are ten of us. Go cry to someone who cares.”
The others snickered again, though unease flickered across a few faces.
Darius did not look at them. He looked once more at the bag. The map. The faint smear of blood.
Then he moved.
The cavern erupted in a blur of motion. Darius struck with clean precision, not rage. Rage made mistakes. Order did not. Five throats were opened before they realized he had crossed the distance. Two spines snapped under his strikes. Seven men fell dead before their minds could register fear.
The remaining three pressed back against the wall, trembling as blood pooled at their feet.
Darius approached them with the same calm he had held upon entering.
“You attacked someone under the alpha’s household. You interfered with a command. You have thirty seconds to explain yourselves.”
One stuttered, voice shrill. “We only wanted to scare him. He acted like he was worth more than us.”
Another choked on his breath. “Bram stabbed him. Only once. Silver. Just to remind him of his place. He ran after. We did not chase.”
Darius’s expression did not shift. “You tore his map.”
“He dropped it,” one whispered.
“You stepped on it,” Darius said.
All three froze.
He grabbed them one by one by their collars, their bones giving under the pressure of his grip but not enough to kill. They cried out, but their voices echoed empty off the stone. Darius dragged them through the tunnel, leaving streaks of dirt and blood behind them.
He did not think of Alberto. He did not think of Fernando. He thought only of law. Of structure. Of consequence. In the old days any slave who assaulted a member of the alpha’s house would have been executed on the spot. Fernando had allowed too much leniency in recent months. That leniency bred arrogance.
As he stepped out of the tunnel and into the cold morning air, Darius reached through the pack link. His voice in the bond was steady.
Alpha.
We have a breach of order.
The response came instantly. A pulse of heat. A harsh tightening. Not anger alone. Something instinctive and violent beneath it.
Darius recognized it.
The mate bond pulling.
Fernando had hidden it well during the council meeting. His only visible reaction had been a sharp breath and his eyes flashing before he forced them back to normal. But the bond reacted whether Fernando wanted it or not.
Darius shut the thought away. Duty did not allow intrusion into the alpha’s private struggles.
He dragged the three men across the main yard. Warriors training in the open field stopped what they were doing and watched in silence. No one interfered. No one spoke. The sight of three bloodied slaves behind the beta was enough to still the entire grounds.
Fernando stood waiting in the center of the training yard. He had arrived before Darius crossed half the distance. His stance was rigid. His jaw tight. But his expression was cold, untouched by the bond coiling under his skin.
Darius stopped before him and released the three men. They collapsed onto the dirt with broken groans.
Fernando’s gaze lowered to the bag that Darius dropped at his feet.
Then to the torn map.
Then back to Darius.
“Report.”
Darius stood straight. “Ten slaves gathered in the restricted tunnel. They confronted Alberto and interfered with his exit. One stabbed him with silver. He escaped wounded. These three survived.”
A faint ripple passed through Fernando. Barely visible. His eyes sharpened the slightest degree. A flash of red flickered in them for half a second before he forced it back. His breath deepened once as the mate bond twisted hard beneath his ribs. Then he smothered it.
To the watching soldiers, he appeared unchanged.
He stepped closer to the three trembling men.
“You attacked someone carrying out a task assigned by my house.”
One of the slaves burst into a frantic plea. “Alpha we did not know he was important. We thought he was nothing. He was bought. We did not think you cared.”
Fernando did not react. Not outwardly. But his fingers curled once at his side. Not in emotion. In restraint. The bond pressed him. Hard. The wolf pushed against his bones, reacting to Alberto’s distant pain. He locked it down with practiced control.
His voice remained even.
“You will be punished for acting without permission and for disrupting order.”
The men collapsed fully, foreheads hitting the dirt.
Darius waited in silence, voice ready if needed, posture unshifting. He followed command. He did not question it.
Fernando turned to him.
“Find him.”
That single order carried an undertone Darius recognized. Not personal desperation. Not affection. The bond was forcing the alpha forward whether Fernando allowed it or not.
Darius bowed his head. “Yes alpha.”