Page 22 of The Beta: Part Three
The menu is in a language I don't speak. Phenomenal. “Whatever you're getting, get me the same thing,” I say quietly, “I can't read the menu.”
Devon studies the menu, and when the waiter comes to take our order he points to something and says, “we'll have two of those.”
The waiter notes our choice and scampers off to place the order. I lean forward and whisper, “what did we get?”
Devon leans forward, too, and also whispers, “I don't know. Jasper always orders for us when we come here. I hope it isn't salad.”
The laugh that bursts out of me startles the couples sitting near our table, which only makes me laugh harder. “Me too. Salad at a place like this would be a tragedy.”
As my laughter fades, Devon and I fall into an awkward silence. Devon and I don't really spend much time together alone. We don't know what to say to each other unless it's about Jasper.
Then the food comes. I don't know what it is, but it's not a salad. It's not terrible, though, and we're half way through it before I see Seth's father lead his mother to their table. It isn't close to ours, but we won't be able to leave without them seeing us, and any appetite I had disappears.
“What?” Devon asks. “What's wrong? I can smell your anxiety, it’s like burnt chicory coffee. What happened just now?”
Devon couldn't have seen them come in from his vantage point. “Behind you to the left, Seth's parents.”
Devon doesn't bother looking. “Fuck.”
I put my fork down and look at the table. I'm not afraid of Seth's father, but he knew who my parents were and said all those disgusting things to me at the auction, and I blame him for what happened to me with Seth's pack more than I blame Seth. I don't think I can be in the same room with him without either killing him or vomiting.
“Do you want to leave?”
I nod without looking up from the table.
“Don't do that. I don't like that. You don't look down for anybody, understand? Especially not for him.” Devon reaches across the table and tips my chin up so I'm looking into his eyes instead of at my plate of beige sauce. “You don't look down. Understand?”
I give him another nod.
“Alright, let's go. They've got my card on file. It'll be fine.”
Then we very calmly and efficiently get up from the table and move toward the door. We almost make it.
“Devon!” Seth's father calls out. Shit.
“Shit.” Devon speaks my thought.
“Talia, a word, please,” Alpha Pratchett says as he weaves through the few tables between us and him.
Devon steps in front of me, blocking me from Alpha Pratchett's view. “No.”
“I just want to apologize.”
“Unaccepted. Go back to your table, Pratchett.”
“Talia,” Alpha Pratchett tries again, “I can't begin-”
“No, Jonas, you really can't. Don't speak to my omega again. Don't look at her. Don't say her fucking name. Go back to your table and sit the fuck down.”
“Devon, your father will-”
“My father would have already killed you where you stand. The only reason I haven't is because I don't need another mess to clean up because of you. Your time will come soon enough.”
“Are you threatening me?” Alpha Pratchett sounds out of breath, like he's struggling to control himself.
“Don't embarrass yourself, Jonas. Go back to your table.” Devon sounds perfectly in control of himself. Maybe even a little bored. I'm suddenly feeling so shaky, in a way I haven't felt in years. I don't understand why. I'm really not afraid of Jonas Pratchett. This isn't fear, but I don't know what it is. My teeth are actually starting to chatter.
Awkward or not, marked or not, Devon is my alpha. Alphas protect their omegas. Alphas help their omegas find calm in the middle of the worst situations. That's what the books and lectures say. That's what Corso and Nathan have done for me in the past. Devon is my alpha, and he will help me. I press my forehead between his shoulder blades and tuck my fingertips into the back of his slacks, gripping tightly to his belt. He tenses for just a moment, then he redoubles his efforts to get me out.
