Page 3 of Rescue Me

The soap stings as I lather it over my skin, catching on the raw patches on my hands. I hiss, clenching my teeth but I keep scrubbing. The pain is grounding, a reminder that I’m still here, still standing. My shoulder throbs where the bruise is blooming, the water only making it worse.

I could argue with her, I think. I could tell her she’s wrong—that I haven’t been outside all day, haven’t been near an Alpha outside this pack in days. But what would be the point? The consequences of defiance are always worse than compliance. I learned that the hard way in my first week here. A missed curtsy to Hailey she demanded on her birthday, a cup of tea not quite warm enough, and Jackson had me kneeling on rice for hours. Lyle made sure I stayed there.

Who the fuck still punished Betas like that these days?

The water cascades down my back as I rinse off the suds, my mind drifting to the day I lost everything.

My cheeks are still flushed from the celebration, the faint scent of alcohol and happiness lingering on my clothes. Tonight was supposed to be about me, about marking the end of six long years of balancing school, part-time jobs, and my parents’ expectations. A degree in biology—it’s not what they wanted, but it’s what I loved. And for once, I let myself believe I could carve out a future for myself.

But the moment I step into the kitchen, that feeling of freedom vanishes.

My parents are sitting at the table, their postures stiff, their faces unreadable. My mother’s lips are pressed into a thin line, her hands folded neatly in front of her. My father leans back in his chair, his arms crossed, his expression a mix of calculation and something I can’t quite place. Excitement? Anticipation? My stomach churns.

“Reid,” my mother says, her voice a little too calm. “Come sit.”

I hesitate, my pulse quickening. They’ve used that tone before, the one that promises something unpleasant. The air feels heavy and oppressive as I walk to the table and lower myself into the chair across from them. My father’s gaze is piercing, my mother’s uncomfortably soft.

“What’s this about?” I ask, glancing between them.

My mother reaches across the table, her hand cold as it closes around mine. “We have something important to talk about,” she says, squeezing lightly. “An opportunity. For you.”

“An opportunity,” I echo, my voice flat. “What kind of opportunity?” Other than working for my father at the mechanic shop or picking up a few classes as a substitute teacher at my mother’s school, there’s no opportunity I can think of. Neither one of them have friends in high places so it can’t actually be something that would further my development in a way I would enjoy. Whatever this opportunity is, it isn’t for me.

My father leans forward, his expression tight as all of the other emotions seemingly disappear. “The Wilhelm pack has offered you a contract to be their Beta.”

I blink, the words washing over me without sinking in. “A contract? What does that even mean?” The Wilhelms are a well-known influential family, although I couldn’t mention what they actually do to have that kind of power and wealth if my life depended on it. Stocks? Inheritance? Who fucking knows.

“It’s an honor,” my mother quickly offers, her voice trembling slightly, though I can’t tell if it’s nerves or excitement. “The Wilhelms are one of the most influential packs in the region. They’ve agreed to pay a dowry—a very generous one.”

The blood drains from my face. “A dowry? Like... you’re marrying me off?” I’ve never thought about getting married. Even the mere thought of having an Omega or an Alpha mate is far from my mind.

My mother flinches, her hand pulling back. “It’s not like that—”

“Then what is it like?” I snap, my voice rising. “You’re selling me to them?”

“It’s not selling,” my father growls, his tone leaving no room for argument. “It’s a job. A contract. You’ll live with them, serve them as their Beta. In exchange, they’ll take care of you—and us.”

The last two words hang in the air, heavy and suffocating. And us.

I push my chair back, the legs scraping against the floor. “I’m not here to make your life better,” I push out, holding back my real anger. “I’m your son, not some... commodity.”

“Sit down,” my father barks, his voice like a whip. “And shut up. You’ll do this because it’s your duty to this family.”

“My duty?” A bitter laugh tumbles from my lips, the sound sharp and hollow. “You’re joking.”

His hand slams against the table, making me flinch. “The contract has already been signed. The Wilhelms are expecting you. The Alphas are on their way as we speak. This is happening, whether you like it or not.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I didn’t sign anything.”

My mother looks away, while my father’s gaze doesn’t waver. There’s a contract on the table, a thick stack of papers neatly bound. I snatch it up, flipping through it until my eyes land on a signature at the bottom of the page.

My signature.

But I didn’t sign this.

“You forged my name.” My voice shakes as the weight of their actions finally hits me. I look up at them, my chest tight with disbelief. “You forged my fucking name.”

“You’re being dramatic,” my mother says, her voice clipped. “We did what needed to be done. This is for the best.”

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