Page 12 of This Fate That Guides Us
He’s a pain in the ass at times, but he always has my best interests in mind. It was his decision to place me with the Powells. A choice I am grateful for every day.
“Here y’go kid.” He grins as he hands me a plate loaded with a few slices of cheesy, saucy goodness. “Don’t want a hungry omega terrorizing this bunch.” I roll my eyes. He isn’t wrong. Mumbling thanks, I dig into the food.
The room is filled with the soft chatter of our family and friends, so I’m surprised when Donovan sits down beside me on the couch instead of joining the other men standing by the island separating the kitchen and living room.
“Heard you got a pretty cool job offer.” He finally shifts his attention fully to me after a few moments of comfortable silence.
“Yeah, I did.” I smile. “Working with one of the bands at Soulbound Echo Studios as their tour photographer.”
Donovan hums thoughtfully as he studies me. My stomach sinks at the look in his eyes. “I’m not going to tell you to turn down the job, kid. I know you deserve to be able to chase your dreams as much as any other person in this world,” he tells me gently.
“But?” We both know there’s a catch to his approval.
“But, we are assigning you a bodyguard for the duration of the tour. Tensions are too high right now, and seeing the stops the tour will make… We won’t risk your safety.”
The pizza churns angrily in my stomach. While it isn’t unheard of for rescued omegas to be assigned a bodyguard, itusually only happens when they are at risk of being discovered by the family or captors they left behind.
“Has something happened? Have they found my new identity?” My voice breaks with the words. I’ve always known there is a chance my birth family will find me. That knowledge doesn’t make handling the possibility any easier.
Flashes of my childhood shutter through my mind before settling on one painful, fear-filled memory.
The scent of rosemary and bergamot pouring from my brother’s open bedroom door is suffocating. My sister, Hannah, holds a hand over my mouth to keep me quiet, forcing me to take steady inhales through my nose. Tears soak both our cheeks as we listen to Father’s enraged screams inside.
Our brother presented as an alpha.
A designation of sin.
“You dare to look upon me and speak ofHisplan? You, the worthless bastard of my loins, whose sins have cursed him with this alpha status?”
My body shakes in terror hearing the vitriol in my father's voice. The sound of his hand connecting with my brother’s face rings down the hallway.
“You will learn to control your scent and instincts through blood and pain. This will be a lesson to the rest of the congregational youth. A reminder of the consequences for those who live in sin.”
Father marches from the room in the opposite direction of where Hannah and I remain hidden. His fury palpable as he calls an emergency service for all of the teens and preteens who attend his church. My stomach rolls knowing I will be required to be there too.
“Come, sweet gremlin, let’s get you cleaned up before Mother comes to fetch you.”
I let my sister lead me to my bedroom where she picks out another of the floral long-sleeve dresses I’m required to wear to church. I feel numb as I slip the scratchy material over my head, shocked by my parent’s reaction.
Hearing their hate-filled speeches about the designations, I always assumed they would change their minds if one of their children were to present as an alpha or an omega. Instead, their disgust is amplified. Their hatred the purest I’ve ever seen. I may not present for another six years, but the fear exists all the same. I’m terrified I will be an alpha or an omega and face my father’s wrath as punishment.
“Sarah,” Mother’s cold voice calls from the doorway. Her cheek and throat are bright red, signs she bore the weight of some of Father’s anger. She hums, her lips pursing as she looks me over. Annoyance and disgust fill her dark brown eyes. “You are presentable at least. Maybe do something with that rat’s nest you call hair next time.” She says nothing else as she turns and leaves.
I follow, as expected, my head low and my hands clasped in front of me. Silence turns to the quiet chatter of the adults dropping their children off per my father’s order. None of the other children speak, unwilling to incur their wrath with so much tension already in the air.
I glance back when we reach the open doors to the church, wishing Hannah was young enough to attend with me. She shakes her head from the side of her husband’s car. Not a trace of her fear or sadness in sight.
Mimicking her, I imagine a breaker box in my mind and slowly shut off all of my emotions. My face and mind are blank as I follow the crowd to my spot in the front row of pews.
Fifteen minutes pass before my father arrives. His green eyes alight with the promise of pain as he gazes out upon usfrom before the cross. “Tonight, you shall bear witness to my son’s deliverance. He has been born in sin. Accepted the touch of the devil on his soul and welcomed the curse of the designations into his heart. Let his punishment steer you along the righteous path.”
My brother-in-law and uncle drag my brother out from the back and toss him down onto the tiled floor before Father’s feet. A sneer lights his face as he looks down upon his son, but it’s the acceptance I see in my brother’s eyes that breaks me. He’s doing this willingly. Accepting whatever cruel fate Father has created for him. Maybe he even believes he is deserving of this punishment.
My lips clamp shut, my teeth digging into my cheeks and tongue to prevent myself from crying out as I watch the three older men bring their belts down onto my brother’s exposed back.
Over and over again, they beat him. Blood seeps down to the floor as his skin breaks open, yet they still don’t stop. They move to his arms and legs when his back is too mangled to continue. Refusing to stop until his scent is diminished and his sins are atoned for in the eyes of God.
Bile and blood coat my tongue as we are forced to watch this brutal act. No one deserves to be treated this way. To be broken in the name of their creator. What kind of God wishes such pain upon his creations?
