Page 14 of The Beta's Heart

The one slashed across my chest was a jagged line that pulled and twinged whenever I moved too quickly. My fingertips skimmed over it, and I could almost feel the silver knife again, the razor edge as unforgiving as my father’s hand was merciless.

My belly was next, where a vertical scar ran like a fault line, almost a reflection of how everything split open that night. I pressed my hand against it with a grimace. The pain was distant now, dulled by time, but the memory was sharp. I remembered the blood, the way it soaked through my shirt, warm and sticky. I remembered screaming, my voice hoarse and raw, and the way the world went dark, my senses overwhelmed by the agony.

Finally, there was the long line from my shoulder down to the crook of my elbow. I lifted my arm and turned it this way and that, feeling the neverending tenderness. This has been the deepest wound, the silver knife laying me open to the bone, and the pain had been blinding, a white-hot flash that left me gasping, my vision swimming. I remembered the sound of my father’s breath, ragged and desperate, like he was the one being hunted.

At least I can’t see my back,I thought with grim humor.

No, I couldn’t see it, but I knew the marks it bore. The dozen or so angry, raised scars that would never fade. Closing my eyes, I could almost hear the knife’s whisper as it sliced through the air over and over and over…

Stop it,I commanded myself in the same calm, even tone I used with Riv when he was on the verge of an explosion.You’re alive. You survived it. You and your wolf both survived it.

I stared at my face, searching for something, maybe a sign that I was still me, but all I saw was a boy who had been broken and pieced back together, the seams visible for anyone to see.

Yeah, I survived it,I acknowledged with a harsh grunt,but I still haven’t figured out how to live with the trauma.

The bathroom suddenly felt too small, the walls closing in on me and the air too thick to breathe. I turned on the faucet, splashing cold water on my face, and the shock was bracing and real and brought me back to the present, to the here and now.

Gripping the edge of the sink, my knuckles white, I bowed my head and took a deep breath as the water dripped down my face.

I was still here. I was still standing. I was still breathing. That meant I could fight. Fight to be more than my scars. Fight to recover from my past. Fight to remember that I deserved happiness.

And fight I will, I promised myself.Until the very end.

5. Few and Far Between

Tyler

When the alphas summoned me the next day, I wasn’t nervous, too used to hanging around with these guys, but Iwasunsure of what to expect, especially because they all looked serious, even the younger two, and that wasn’t normal.

The oldest was Alpha Mason Price. He would turn twenty-one in May, and some called him Alpha Ice, most likely because his cold gray eyes looked right through you. He was even-tempered and kept his emotions locked down tight, a man who could rarely be shaken, but when he was, watch out. At six feet six and more than three hundred pounds of pure muscle, he wrecked anything when he snapped, and there wasn’t anybody in the pack who could best him at hand-to-hand fighting. He feared nothing on this earth, probably because he was one of the top ten most powerful shifters in the kingdom, right along with Alpha Cole Barlow.

Nathan Barlow’s oldest son, Alpha Cole was the next oldest, having turned twenty last month. He’d inherited his father’s bear-like build, bright green eyes, and ability to grow a beard, which was rare among male shifters. Most of us were pretty hairless except for what grew on top of our heads. My mom used to tell me it was to make up for how hairy we got when our wolves came out, which had always made me laugh. Alpha Cole wasn’t such a laughing guy, although he had a dry, grumpy humor on occasion. Along with black hair and a darker skin tone, he’d inherited his biracial mother’s fiery temper and didn’t bother to rein it in most of the time.

Alpha Jayden Carson, who turned nineteen three days before Beta Everett was killed, had sun-streaked brown hair, hazel eyes, and was tall with a lean runner’s build. He was probably the most thoughtful and sensible of the five. While Alpha Mase was observant and used his head, Alpha Jay seemed tounderstandeverything. He was practical and kind, loved to play acoustic guitar, and spent hours with me at the alpha library, reading and researching and trying to create some kind of order out of the chaos. He wasn’t above playing a prank and joking around, especially if he was hanging around alphas Ash Mitchell and Wyatt Black.

Alpha Ash, at nearly seven feet tall, was the tallest guy in the pack and had a personality to boot. His dark brown hair floated around his head in wild, thick curls, and his dark brown eyes always flashed with good humor. He liked skateboarding and sports, and his athleticism would have earned him an easy scholarship if he’d wantedto go to college. After he turned eighteen in January, though, he’d decided he would graduate in June and call it good.

Same with Alpha Wyatt, who would turn eighteen next month. Dude was the only one of the alphas with blond hair and blue eyes, so he always stood out a little from them just in appearance, but his wildness, love of pranks, and sense of adventure put him in a class all his own. He was a crazy good artist with a natural talent for drawing that was enviable, and loved working on cars, sports, video games—all things I also enjoyed, which was one of the reasons we got along so well.

I got along with most people, but the alphas had kind of taken me under their wing after I was orphaned, and I stayed there because we all clicked so well.

“You’re probably wondering what this is about, Ty,” Alpha Mason took charge like always. “Well, we’ve been talking about who should fill the open beta position.”

My heart skipped a beat. Surely they weren’t thinking of offering it tome?!

“We all believe you are the right choice. Your courage, loyalty, and commitment are unquestionable, and you have a strength of heart that we value.”

“No way.” I locked my hands behind my neck and blew out of a heavy breath. “Surely there’s some other shifter from Dark Woods with beta blood who is of age and could step up.”

“There are two,” Alpha Ash pointed out, “but neither one is suitable. Roger Poe is 68—”

“And can still put a lot of young hotheads on their butts at fighter practice,” I interrupted.

“Yeah, but he would have to give up the diner, and I don’t want to ask that of him. Since he never found his mate, he’s put his heart and soul into that place. I can’t take it away from him.”

“And the other?”

“David Johnstone will most likely never wake up from that coma,” he answered quietly.

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