Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by his Brother Chapter 89: Axel And The Reformed Rascals

At so point, while I walked through the pack, a few young pack mbers trailed behind , whispering amongst themselves.

"Why is he walking?"

"Did he lose a bet?"

"Maybe he’s punishing himself."

I was this close to turning around and snapping at them, but then an old woman suddenly rushed forward, blocking my path with an alarming amount of determination.

"My Beta, please, take my cart!" She gestured wildly at the rickety wooden cart she had been using to transport vegetables.

I scrunched up my face in surprise. "What?"

"Please," she insisted, practically shoving it toward . "It’s unworthy of soone of your status, but at least it will carry you ho faster than walking."

I stared at the cart. At the old woman. At the expectant crowd now gathering around us.

Then, slowly, I dragged a hand down my face.

This was ridiculous.

I was walking. That was all. Not waging war. Not overthrowing a kingdom. Not sacrificing myself to the gods. Just walking.

And yet, the entire pack was acting like I had descended from my throne to experience the life of the peasants.

Yet, if it were people of the lower status or the weak ones like María José, no one would give a damn. Fuck, I hate this pack!

Or... hold on... what I needed to repeat to myself from now on was that when I rose in power, I’d make it better. I would alleviate the extre power dynamics and ensure every pack mbers had their rights.

However, there were limitations to my power as a Beta. I’d still need the pompous Álvaro’s permission to do a lot of things.

Maybe I shouldn’t have refused that Alpha post. Darn... I was so ignorant. Well, maybe I could still have it. After all, Álvaro wasn’t the Alpha yet.

Now, back to this ludicrous mont, just as I was about to decline the offer – because, dear Moon Goddess, I was not riding ho in a vegetable cart, soone new approached.

The familiar scents hit first.

I turned.

And there they were; Luis Miguel and his cronies. I almost groaned out loud.

These idiots again.

Here they were, standing before like model citizens, their postures straight like soldiers in attention and their eyes... respectful?

What kind of sorcery was this?

"Beta Axel," Luis Miguel greeted, nodding his head.

His friends followed suit, all of them bowing slightly as if they suddenly believed in hierarchy and discipline.

I dimd my eyes, suspicious. "What do you want?"

Luis Miguel flashed a nervous smile. "We, uh... ca to thank you."

I arched a brow. "For what?"

They fell into step beside as I continued walking toward the Packhouse, literally escorting like my own personal fan club. This was getting weirder by the second.

"For teaching us a lesson," one of them said.

"Yeah," another added. "We, uh... learned a lot."

What?!

The trouble-making Luis Miguel and his stupid friends were here to thank for teaching them a lesson?

Did I hear that right?!

"Oh, really? And which part exactly did you ’learn a lot’ from? Was it when I made you sweep the entire market under the sun? Or was it when you had to help every vendor in the market?"

Luis Miguel grimaced. "Both?"

His friend, Gonzalo, raised a hand. "Actually, I think the worst part was when we had to carry that sack of rotten onions through the pack square. I still sll it in my dreams."

I couldn’t help it—I laughed. Loudly.

The image of Luis Miguel and his friends trudging through the pack square, faces scrunched in misery, while carrying that awful, stinking sack for the vegetable vendor was still fresh in my mory.

The way pack mbers had covered their noses and run in the opposite direction... that was priceless.

"So, what are you really here for?" I asked, shaking my head.

Luis Miguel scratched his head awkwardly. "Well... we were also wondering if the punishnt has ended... or if there’s still more."

I stopped walking for a second, just to give them a long, slow stare.

Patchy Mustache gulped. "I an, w-we just wanted to be sure! Y’know, in case we needed to brace ourselves..."

I burst out laughing. They had been so traumatized that they actually thought I might have more in store for them.

"The punishnt’s over," I said, still chuckling.

The relief on their faces was instantaneous.

Luis Miguel threw his hands up in celebration. "YES! Thank the Moon Goddess!"

Pedro (the last of them) grabbed Gonzalo’s shoulders, shaking him excitedly. "We survived, bro! We actually survived!"

The others cheered, hollering like they had just escaped death itself.

I rolled my eyes but let them have their mont. Then I twisted my voice into a dangerous tone. "But listen carefully."

The laughter died instantly.

"If you ever start acting like nuisances again... or worse, if you ever try to make María José’s life difficult..." I paused for effect before adding with a slow, wicked smirk, "I’ll have a much, much bigger punishnt waiting for you."

They all straightened up so fast, it was almost comical.

"No, no, we wouldn’t dare," Luis Miguel said quickly, waving his hands in protest.

"Yeah," Pedro added. "We’ll do exactly what you told us to do when we see her."

I gave them a sharp look. "Which is?"

Pedro imdiately straightened his back and saluted. "Greet her with the utmost respect, offer to carry her things, sing to make her smile, and if anyone sses with her, beat them up in her honor."

Luis Miguel elbowed him. "Not that last part! We’re supposed to report it, rember?"

I smirked. "Good. Then we’re all good."

They collectively exhaled in relief, and I saw their shoulders finally relaxing.

The conversation beca lighter after that. They followed the rest of the way, talking about random things—food, their parents, and ridiculous rumors about the pack. By the ti we reached the Packhouse, I had completely forgotten they were still there.

That was, until I turned to head inside and realized they were still standing behind , shifting on their feet awkwardly.

I raised an eyebrow. "Aren’t you guys going ho?"

Luis Miguel and Pedro exchanged sidelong glances, looking like they wanted to say sothing but didn’t know how.

I folded my arms. "What?"

They gulped skeptically. Fidgeted.

Finally, Gonzalo cleared his throat. "Well, uh... we were just wondering..."

Patchy Mustache nudged him. "Go on, say it!"

Gonzalo shot him a ’why don’t you co tell him too?’ glare before turning back to . "We were wondering if... maybe we could, you know, co hang out here sotis?"

Hub?

This was so random and unexpected that I stared at them. Hard.

Luis Miguel quickly clarified, "Not all the ti! Just once in a while! Y’know... to, uh, experience the royalty life?"

I blinked.

Then I wrinkled my forehead:

These idiots.

They actually had the guts—the sheer audacity to ask this after all the trouble they had caused ?

For a second, I just stood there, processing the absurdity of the request. Then I burst out laughing.

I laughed so hard I had to lean against the Packhouse wall to catch my breath.

"You—you still have the ti to make requests?" I wheezed, wiping my eyes. "After everything?"

Luis Miguel held up his hands in surrender. "Hey, it was just a question! You don’t have to say yes."

Pedro grinned sheepishly. "We were mostly joking... mostly."

I shook my head, exhaling heavily. "Fine."

They all froze.

Gonzalo’s eyes widened. "Wait... what?"

"You heard ," I said. "You can co hang out whenever you want."

For a mont, they just stared at like I had grown two heads. Then...

"WHOOOOOOO!"

They exploded into cheers, jumping around like a bunch of overgrown puppies.

"Beta Axel, you’re the best!" Patchy mustache actually hugged Pedro out of excitent.

"I take back every bad thing I ever said about you," Luis Miguel swore, grinning ear to ear.

"You said bad things about ?" I asked dryly.

Luis Miguel paled. "N-No! Of course not!"

I just smirked and waved them off. "Go ho, idiots."

They finally left, still celebrating as they walked away.

Shaking my head, I turned and made my way toward the backyard. It was ti to see Luis.

He was the only person who would understand just how ridiculous today had been.