Alpha Batista
The Dungeon
The air down here was thick—wet and bitter like rot clinging to the stone walls. I hated coming to this place. It felt like punishment just breathing in it.
My boots echoed as I walked down the narrow corridor, flanked by two silent guards. I waved them off before I reached the last cell.
I needed to be alone for this.
My heart twisted when I saw her.
Rain.
Huddled in the corner of the cell, arms crossed tight, chin raised like a dagger she couldn't throw. Her hair was a wild mess, her cheek streaked with a bruise that hadn't been there before. Goddess… what had they done?
I stopped in front of her cell, my fingers curling around the bars.
"Rain," I said quietly.
She didn't move. Just blinked slowly, like I was a particularly ugly bug on her wall.
I swallowed the ache in my throat and forced the words out. "Did you kill Laela?"
My voice came out steadier than I felt.
But inside, I was breaking.
I stood in front of the iron bars, watching her—Rain—with a tightness in my chest I couldn't name.
She didn't say a word.
Just looked at me, guarded, trembling, defiant. Her silence cut deeper than a blade.
"Rain," I said again, softer this time. "Tell me the truth. Did you hate me that much? Did you… did you try to poison me through my food?" My throat felt dry. "Was that your plan? But instead, Laela…" I swallowed hard. "She took the hit meant for me."
Her eyes flared with fire. But still—nothing.
"Damn it, say something." My hand curled into a fist. "Let me help you."
She laughed, sharp and bitter. "Help me? Like you helped my mother? You want me to speak just so you can twist my words, trap me like you trapped her? No, Alpha. That's not going to happen."
Her voice was venom. But it still made my heart ache.
"I'm not your enemy, Rain." I rubbed a hand across my face, trying to hide the flicker of pain in my expression. "You think I want this? You think I can stand here and watch you rot in a cell while the pack claws for your blood?"
She didn't flinch. But I saw the way her fingers dug into the stone bench.
She was scared.
"I don't want to do this," I said. "But if you stay silent… the law will take over. You'll be tied to the Tree of Shame. Flogged. Humiliated. And I won't be able to stop it. They'll starve you. Break you."
I took a step closer, gripping the bars. "Confess. Please. I swear on the Moon Goddess, I will protect you. I'll exile you, yes—but I will make sure you live."
Her eyes shimmered with something—pain, anger, fear. I couldn't tell.
"I won't let them hurt you," I added, barely above a whisper. "Not if I can stop it."
She looked away. But her silence screamed louder than any words.
I leaned closer. "If you can't trust me, then speak to someone who you do. Fast. Because this is bigger than you think."
I let the words sink in before saying, "Laela… wasn't just my concubine. She was Elder Gareth's daughter. And he's not going to stop until someone bleeds for her death."
Rain's jaw clenched. Her breathing quickened.
She wanted to speak—I saw it—but something held her back.
I hated this.
Hated that I couldn't reach her. That my rank, my duty, the past… they were all walls between us.
After a long pause, I took a step back.
"I tried," I whispered. "Even the Goddess knows I did."
And with that, I turned and walked away.
But every step away from her cell felt like walking away from something I couldn't afford to lose.
And I knew—if I didn't find a way to save her soon…
The pack would destroy her.
And I'd never forgive myself.
As I stepped out of the dungeon, Dan was waiting. Arms crossed, eyes cold.
"Well?" he asked.
"She won't talk," I muttered.
"Told you," he said with a smug shrug. "She's guilty. Her silence says it all."
"She's scared."
He chuckled. "She's dangerous."
My jaw tightened. "You don't know her like I do."
Dan's smile didn't reach his eyes. "No. I only know she's the one who tried to kill you."
I looked away, hiding the flicker of doubt.
"She deserves a fair trial," I said at last.
Dan raised an eyebrow. "Why? You're Alpha. You don't need permission."
"I owe it to her father. He trusted me with her."
Dan's face soured for a beat before he masked it with indifference. "You mean the same father whose mate stabbed him in the back?"
I ignored the jab. "Bring her up. We'll have the hearing before the pack."
Dan nodded slowly, a glint of calculation in his eyes. "As you wish… Alpha."
But something in the way he said it made my skin crawl.
I glanced back down the corridor, toward the cell.
Rain didn't know it yet—but she was walking straight into a trap.
And I wasn't sure I could stop it in time.
Dan's POV
Outside the Dungeon
I stood just outside the dungeon, arms crossed, my expression carefully schooled into one of concern. Batista paced in front of me like a storm waiting to erupt, and finally, he exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face.
"She's so stubborn," he muttered bitterly.
Good, I thought coldly. Let her be stubborn. Let her push and fight and spit fire until even he can't stand the sight of her anymore.
But my voice came out calm, measured—exactly what he needed to hear.
"I told you, that's how she is."
He shot me a sharp look, and I quickly softened my tone. Never too aggressive. Never too obvious.
"But we need to act, Batista. We can't just let this linger. I think she's guilty."
The flicker of shock that crossed his face nearly made me smile. There it is. The hesitation. The doubt. Let's see how far your heart will stretch for a girl who'd rather bite you than thank you.
"She's not a killer," he insisted. "She's incapable of it. I know her."
I shook my head solemnly. "No. She's guilty. I know guilt when I see it—and it breaks my heart, Batista, but it's written all over her face."
It wasn't, of course. But who cared? As long as the seed was planted.
He shook his head. "I don't believe it."
Of course you don't, I thought. Not yet.
"I know her too," I added gently. "She's my mate."
That made him flinch. And I relished it.
"No," he said too quickly, his tone sharp.
"Not like I do. I knew Rain long before the mate bond ever chose her for you. She was wild, loud, annoying as hell, yes—but she was also loyal. Fiercely loyal. She would never kill."
I let him talk. Let the desperation bleed out of him. It was better that way—more tragic when the betrayal cut deep.
But I pressed anyway, tilting my head with mock concern. ""Why do you keep protecting her? Even now, when she treats you like dirt?"
His jaw clenched.
"She was my friend," he said quietly. "If something happens to her... it'll feel like I failed her father."
There it was again—that man. Always lingering like some ghostly saint.
"My savior," Batista continued. "But Rain's mother... she poisoned her. Turned her against me. Rain used to adore me."
Oh spare me. I kept my expression soft, understanding. "Can I ask you something? But only if you're not afraid to answer."
His brows raised. "What is it?"
I leaned in, just slightly, and let the words slip out like poison in honey. "Do you still have feelings for her?"
His face hardened like stone. I didn't give him time to answer.
"Even after I told you she's my mate?" I added, pressing the dagger in just a bit deeper.
He didn't reply.
There it is. Guilt. Regret. Longing. Let it rot you from the inside out, Alpha.
He took a step back, eyes narrowing. "Why would you ask me that?"
"Because you once wanted her to be your concubine," I said with a clipped voice. "And thank the Goddess I stopped you before you acted on that."
Silence.
A rope between us, pulled taut and fraying.
Then, something shifted in his expression. Like he suddenly remembered something important.
"Aren't you sad?" he asked, almost like it hadn't occurred to him until just now. "About what's happening to her? Doesn't it break something in you to see her like this?"
Shit. He was sniffing around something. Time to perform.
I put on the saddest face I could muster. My voice shook with fake sorrow, even forcing a tear to prick the corner of my eye.
"I am," I said, voice heavy. "I'm terrified. I love her, Batista." I shook my head slowly. "But if she tried to hurt you... I can't ignore that. You're my Alpha. And my friend."
He softened instantly. I almost laughed. Pathetic.
He stepped forward and placed a firm hand on my shoulder. "I know you care about me too, Dan. I can't imagine how hard this is for you."
Not hard at all, you idiot. I bowed my head slightly, pretending to fight back emotion, letting silence do the rest of the acting.
Then, after a minute of fake mourning, I asked what I'd really come here for.
"So... should we tie her to the Tree of Shame first?"
He hesitated. I didn't like that.
"No," he finally said. "Not yet. She needs a hearing."
I frowned. "A hearing?"
"She needs to defend herself," he said. "And if you believe she's guilty, then convince her to confess. If you believe she's innocent—help her prove it."
Unbelievable. Now I had to go play therapist to a feral little brat while this fool clings to some fantasy of justice.
He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "But I promise you... I won't let her die. Maybe exile, but not death."
I bowed my head again, voice tight. "Thank you, Batista. I'll talk to her."
Moron.
He turned and walked off, heading toward the ceremonial ground, his boots echoing off the stone floor.
I didn't move until he was gone.
Only then did I let my lips curve into a slow, satisfied smile.
"Fool," I muttered.
Then I turned to the guards stationed by the dungeon door.
"Bring her out immediately," I said sharply. "We will judge her case before the entire pack."
The game had begun—and I planned to win it.