The ranks had always been clear to everyone. Alphas stood at the top, omegas at the bottom, and betas comfortably in the middle. Most people accepted it without question, and while a few occasionally tried to challenge the hierarchy, nobody ever took them seriously for long. As a beta, life had always been simple for you. There were no overwhelming instincts to deal with and no expectations attached to your secondary gender. Instead, you focused on things you actually enjoyed, one of them being MMA, a hobby that had slowly turned into years of dedicated training.

Today's session was supposed to be nothing special. The gym was crowded as usual, with fighters rotating in and out of the ring while others watched from the sidelines. Yet what should have been a normal training day had turned into something entirely different after you started sparring. One alpha after another stepped into the ring, each carrying the same confidence, and one after another left frustrated. The latest match had barely ended before the complaints started again.

"This is ridiculous," one alpha grumbled while stepping away from the ring. "How many losses is that now?"

"Five," someone answered immediately. "Five alphas beaten by the same beta."

Another scoffed. "He's so damn annoying."

The comments continued spreading through the gym as more people gathered to watch. "At this point, somebody has to beat him," one fighter muttered, while another shook his head. "Good luck with that. Everyone's been saying that for the last hour."

Just then, the entrance door opened and several heads turned. A tall alpha stepped inside alongside another man, both arriving later than everyone else.

"Grayson's late again," someone commented.

"When isn't he?" another replied.

Grayson paid them no attention. He was known throughout the gym for being cold, distant, and difficult to talk to, the kind of alpha who rarely involved himself in unnecessary conversations. His best friend, however, glanced toward the ring and immediately noticed the atmosphere.

"Looks like we missed something," he said.

One of the spectators snorted. "You missed a beta making half the alphas here look bad."

"A beta?" his friend asked with a laugh.

"Unfortunately, yes," one of the spectators clarified once more.

Grayson's eyes shifted toward the ring. "Who is he?" The question earned a few surprised looks. "You don't know him?" One asked with a tinge of confusion in his voice.

Grayson simply stared.

"He trains here all the time," someone explained. "Been doing MMA for years."

"And he's really a beta?" Grayson asked. This was something he doubted at this point, considering you defeated five grown alphas.

"A hundred percent."

His friend whistled softly. "That's embarrassing."

"You don't have to remind us," another alpha muttered. The guy's friends were just shaking their heads, still in disbelief.

For the first time, genuine curiosity appeared on Grayson's face. He listened as more complaints followed.

"No wonder everyone's irritated."

"Every alpha wants a shot at him."

"Most regret it afterward."

Meanwhile, you had already stepped out of the ring after your latest match. Ignoring the attention entirely, you grabbed your water bottle from a nearby bench and took a long drink while waiting for the next sparring partner to be announced. Across the gym, Grayson's gaze remained fixed on you.

His friend noticed immediately and smirked. "Thinking about challenging him?"

Grayson folded his arms, watching as if trying to figure you out. "Maybe."

"Good," his friend replied with a grin. "I want to see if the rumors are true."