Page 10 of The Beta: Part One

Which is a fine thing to say, but it still makes me feel ridiculous. Sometimes I’m very resentful of the way my omega genetics pull at my emotions. I feel torn about my needs so much of the time and it’s exhausting. These needy urges make me feel so...weak. Inadequate.

I hate it. And I hate that I hate it. I can’t help that my omega needs are bound up inside my male body, a body that has been taught and trained as much as any of my alphas. My head spends so much of the time spinning from the need to assert myself as a male and my need to be needed like an omega.

Like right now, I want them to hold my hand and dance with me and spoil me, but I also want to be the aggressor and lead those dances and spoil them until I can make them feel as precious as they make me feel. I think they forget that I’m more than their omega and that I am not some simpering, feeble, weak thing to be protected within an inch of my sanity, that I’m capable of protecting my pack, too.

Inside, our table is placed near the dance floor and there’s champagne already chilling in a bucket in the center. There’s the usual crowd, and I wave at a few acquaintances. People are positively gawking at my pack. Most of it is for the same reason they always stare, but some of them are staring because we have Talia with us. We have never allowed females at our table, much less into our pack; so I’m sure it’s quite a sight for some of these people.

Devon excuses himself to go speak with his father, as usual, and Nathan goes to a table near ours to have a conversation with someone there. Talia must see someone she knows because I see her give a tiny smile and shake her head slightly at someone, but I can’t catch who it is; and I’ve already witnessed Gia’s shocked and envious expression, with no small amount of satisfaction. We’re into the main course before anything unfortunate happens.

As always, there are lots of other alphas trying to get my attention, which is bad enough. But sometimes there are a superfluous amount of alpha chasing betas in attendance and they tend to flock to our table to fawn and flirt with my alphas. Most of the time my pack shuts it down pretty quickly and easily, but occasionally someone will be very persistent. It’s always the same. They come over feigning interest in speaking to me, or to one of my pack about any number of things, and after a bit they begin their advances.

It usually starts with the long glances, even from the males. Our pack is infamous for not tolerating females, and because of that the types of male betas that come prowling over are interested in a good fuck from an alpha, as well as a place in our pack.

That’s what’s happening now. A male beta named Mitchell has pulled up a chair beside me and across from Trent, who is apparently who he has his sights on tonight. He started off like usual, chatting me up, and totally ignoring Talia after a cursory glance. Then he started looking a little too long and too hard at Trent. Trent, to his credit, is not entertaining any of it and is maintaining a conversation with Kaleb without acknowledging Mitchell.

I try to subtly draw his attention away from my alpha, but he either doesn’t understand the hint or he doesn’t care that I’m giving one. I’m getting more and more uncomfortable. I'm not weak by any means, but I know it would be a bad idea for me to call him out on his behavior myself for more than several reasons. I don’t want to embarrass my pack by not being able to back up a challenge, not that I think Mitchell would be an actual challenge, and I don’t want to bring any unnecessary negative attention to us; and he isn’t doing anything more than basically eye-fucking Trent. I hate it, and it sits heavy and sour in my stomach, but I try to ignore it.

Talia, however, does not ignore it.

She was sitting there, serenely picking at the food on her plate one moment, and the next moment she’s leaning over my lap and stabbing her shiny fork into Mitchell’s thigh. “Touch him with your eyes again, and I’ll fucking take one of them,” she says politely, conversationally, like she didn’t just stab him in the leg with a fork.

It takes a moment, but he eventually throws his head back and lets out a barking curse, and I see her twist the fork back and forth until she has his full attention again.

“Do I make myself clear? Do you understand what will happen to you if you look at my omega’s alpha again?”

His eyes are saucers, and he turns to Kaleb, sputtering, as if to ask if he’s going to allow his beta to attack someone like this.

Kaleb smooths the tablecloth in front of him with his hands and says, “If you say another word, I’ll take the other one,” then he looks at Talia, “Please make sure you wipe off your fork before you finish your meal, cupcake.” Then he goes back to talking to Trent like nothing happened.

I feel her body jerk when she pulls the fork out because she’s still leaned across me. Blood is spreading darkly across the material of his pants and I expect him to dive across me and break her neck.

He doesn’t, but he takes too long to remove himself from our table, so Talia waves her fingers at him and says, “You’re dismissed.”

She wipes off her fork on her napkin and takes a dainty bite of food off of her plate and puts it to my mouth. I smile brightly and take the bite. Of all the things I expected to happen tonight, Talia stabbing someone with her fork because they made me uncomfortable was nowhere near the list; I’m probably going to have to like her, really like her, now. “Will you dance with me later?” I ask her, and she looks surprised. She also looks at Kaleb, who nods at her.

“Of course I’ll dance with you. Just let me know when you’re ready.” And I smile again.

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