Page 47 of Rejected Beta

I sigh. “I hope it's the same for me. I can't afford to close the studio so much."

"Speaking of, Hendrix put up a sign on your door and stole your phone and put up a post on your social media. Hopefully that's okay." He starts fussing with the bedding, straightening my disgusting sheets and rearranging the scattered pillows.

"No, that's great. I hadn't even considered that."

I have no idea how he got access to my social media, but I’m too grateful to care at the moment.

Ryder studies me. “You seem a little more clear-headed than Hendrix said you were earlier."

"Yeah, but my body is still useless."

I’m tired of my body refusing to do what I need it to do. This is the worst possible time for it to fail me, with everything going on.

"Can I carry you out to the living room?” Ryder asks. “Hendrix has made a new soup that he's kept simmering until you woke up."

My shoulders sink. “I guess."

He smirks. “Is accepting help chafing a bit?"

I huff. “Yep. I know it's foolish, but I've only been able to rely on myself for a long time. The last time I let myself rely on anyone...well, you know how that turned out."

He rears back a bit. “Do you think we're like them?"

I shake my head so emphatically it makes me dizzy. “No, I don't mean it that way at all. My point is, the one time I relied on people, it turned into a disaster, so it's not something I'm very comfortable with."

"I understand that. But you're trying to build a new life here, right? One that includes community? This is part of it if you truly want to be a part of the community. I know it's easier said than done though. Especially when you're a beta. I imagine it's even worse for alphas."

Our culture really only gives omegas the room to ask for help and that's more to do with proclaiming how helpless they are and less to do with something more equal. Alphas are supposed to be the one solving all the world's problems and betas are just supposed to figure it out on their own.

It's bullshit, but I don't see things changing any time soon. Sadly, I have to be satisfied with meeting people who fight against their designations, who don't want to be defined by them. This town is full of them.

"Are you ready?" Ryder asks, concern in the fold of his brow.

"Yes. Thank you." I'm going to try to stop protesting and just let them help the way they want.

I'd do the same for them if they needed it.

He scoops me up more carefully than Hendrix did, like Ryder thinks I'm delicate or breakable. I rather like the feeling.

Ryder carries me back out to the living room where I see Hendrix cooking something in the kitchen with Lexie as his helper. They both look up when we enter, shooting me bright smiles.

"You look a lot better. Still feeling like garbage though?" Hendrix gifts me a commiserating smile.

Ryder lowers me onto the couch and I’m out of breath again by the time I get settled into a comfortable position.

"My body is just really weak, but I don't feel quite so foggy."

Hendrix tosses a packet at Ryder, who catches it easily. “Good. It's time for more medicine for you."

Ryder pops out two pills and drops them into my hand. My water is still on the TV tray, so I use that to take the medicine.

"We're making get well soup!" Lexie hollers, waving a wooden spoon in the air.

I grin. “Oh yeah?"

"What's in that?" Ryder heads over to peek in the pot.

Lexie grimaces apologetically at him. “I’m not allowed to tell."

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