Chapter 2: Sariah: Betrayal is Bitter

I stare down at the slice of pizza sitting in front of me.

Untouched.

Cold.

The smell of grease and melted cheese suddenly makes me nauseous.

Across from us, the neon Raven’s Pizza sign buzzes softly against the frost covered windows while old rock music crackles through the speakers overhead. Usually this place feels safe. Familiar. We’ve been coming here together since we were kids. I can feel Brock staring at the side of my face from the booth beside me.

“I can’t eat this whole thing by myself, Ri,” he says finally, nudging my plate closer toward me.

I don’t move. I can’t. Anger is seething inside me and I’m on the brink of emotionally exploding. My jaw aches from how tightly it’s clenched. All I can hear is Lydia’s voice replaying over and over again inside my head.

You are arranged to marry one of his Beta’s sons in three weeks.

Three weeks.

Like I’m some kind of trade agreement instead of a person. With my own thoughts and opinions. 

After I told Brock in the car, all he said was that “it was bound to happen.” Even had the audacity to shrug his fucking shoulders. 

The response has been eating me alive ever since. Because Brock knows me better than anyone. He knows how badly I want out of this place. He knows that I’ve struggled to fit in my entire life and no matter what I do or how hard I try, I’ll never fit in. I’ll never be accepted. And then it occurs to me. In order to have such a non-chalant response, the situation must have been expected. 

“You knew.”

The words come out quieter than I intended. Barley a whisper. 

Brock’s body stills beside me.

I finally looked at him.

His hockey jacket hangs open slightly from the heat inside the restaurant, dark hair still damp from melted snow. Any other girl in Darkthorne would probably kill to be sitting beside Brock Axton right now.

Access to his alpha bloodline.

Elite hockey player.

A misunderstood Omega that has somehow become the golden boy of the entire Darkthorne academy.

But all I can see is the boy who taught me how to skate when I was seven.

The boy who I’ve spent every holiday, every birthday and every waking moment of childhood with.

The boy who swore that no matter how alone this pack makes me feel, he will never abandon me.

“Ri,” he starts carefully.

“No.” I shake my head hard enough to stop whatever excuse he’s about to give me. “Did you know I was arranged to a Beta’s son this whole time?” The second the question leaves my mouth, I already know the answer.

Slowly, he sets the slice of pizza back onto his plate.

A laugh escapes me, sharp and humorless.

“Wow.” I shove out of the booth before I can stop myself. “I’m actually stupid.”

“Sariah.”

“I’m so fucking stupid.” My voice cracks as the words slip out of my mouth.

Not because of the arranged marriage that I won’t be following through with.

Not even because of Alpha Axton once again deciding the fate of my life for me. 

Because Brock knew.

And he never told me. He never warned me. 

I grab my jacket from beside me and shove my arms through the sleeves. My backpack is still sitting in Brock’s car with all my schoolwork inside, but I can’t think about that right now. I just want to get away from here. Away from him.

My chest burns as I push through the front doors of the pizzeria and step out into the freezing night air.

Snowflakes immediately cling to my eyelashes and I let out a cold breath.

“Sariah!”

The door slams open behind me and I turn to look but keep my feet moving one in front of the other.

Brock’s voice follows me down the sidewalk, deep enough to turn heads from people passing by.

I don’t stop walking.

He’s captain of Darkthorne’s elite hockey team. An athlete. If Brock Axton really wanted to catch me...he would.

Raven’s is only a couple of blocks away from my house. Thankfully. It’s freezing out. Snow crunches beneath my boots as I shove my freezing hands into the pockets of my jacket. Halfway down the sidewalk, I realize my hat and mittens are still sitting in Brock’s car beside my backpack.

I laugh out loud like a maniac.

Of course they are.

I glance over my shoulder anyway.

Once.

Then again a few seconds later.

Part of me stupidly hoping I’ll see headlights turning the corner behind me.

That I’ll hear his car.

That he’ll come after me like he always used to when we were kids and I got angry enough to storm off dramatically. Because we’ve played this game before.

But the street behind me stays empty.

The cold wind slices through my jacket as I pick up my pace. Snowflakes cling to my hair and eyelashes while my thoughts spiral hard enough to make me nauseous.

When we were kids, I would joke about running away from this place and never looking back. All the way up until the last year of school when I actually put a plan into place. 

Everytime I told him I wanted to leave he would ask about my future plans when I’m there. He seemed interested in my passion to help people and going to med school. But that was all bullshit. Because every time he asked me and told me not to worry about my future so much, every single time he promised me that things would work out was a lie.

Because he already knew my future had been decided for me.

My chest burns.

By the time I reach the end of the cul-de-sac, my fingers are numb.

House number 1444 sits at the very end, lights glowing warmly through the windows. I hesitate at the front door with my hand wrapped around the knob. I don’t want to face the reality of what is on the other side of the door- the conversation I know Lydia’s  going to want to have with me.

At this point I’m not sure what hurts worse- the betrayal I feel from Brock or the woman who raised me my entire life and knows this isn’t the life I wanted for myself.

As if I should fall to my knees thanking the universe for the privilege of being tolerated here. To have a Beta’s Omega son be forced to marry me out of sheer pity.

I push the door open quietly.

Warm air immediately wraps around me, carrying the scent of rosemary, bread and roasted meat from the kitchen. I lost my appetite at Raven’s but Lydia’s cooking always makes my stomach growl even if I’m not hungry.

“Sariah?” Lydia calls instantly.

Right.

Wolves.

Sometimes I forget they can hear practically everything.

"I’m not feeling well,” I called back, already slipping my boots off near the door. “I think I’m just going to go upstairs.”

Lydia appears around the corner a second later, wiping her hands on her apron. Her cheeks are flushed pink from cooking and strands of dark hair have escaped the braid hanging over her shoulder.

“There’s my girl,” she says gently, opening her arms for a hug.

Guilt twists in my stomach.

I let her pull me against her quickly before stepping back. “How was school?”

The question catches me off guard. Like the conversation we had earlier never even happened. I expected disappointment. Maybe even irritation after hanging up on her earlier. Not casual conversation about my school day.

“School was…” I shrug. “School.”

Her eyes narrow slightly like she can sense the tension rolling off me anyway. “Were the rankings posted?”

There it is.

The rankings.

The single most important thing in Darkthorne Academy besides Hockey. 

Every year, students wait for the Darkthorne Rite results to be released three weeks before graduation. One public posting determines everything important to anyone who isn’t me here. It guarantees future placement, career standing, social rank and political value. Some wolves spend their entire childhood preparing for it.

Alphas are usually easy to identify young. Strong personalities. Stronger instincts. Future leaders who are raised like royalty long before their wolves fully emerged.

Everyone has a place here.

Everyone except me.

Even the weakest Omega still belongs somewhere in this pack.

I don’t.

“You know how things work here, Sariah,” Lydia says carefully reading the expression on my face. “You may not be a shifter, but this pack still raised you. There are expectations.”

I stare at her. Wanting her to stop talking. 

And suddenly the warmth in the house feels suffocating.

“To be honest,” she continues softly, “I’m grateful Alpha Axton found you a match with such good standing. Garner comes from a reputable family who’s been in Alpha Axton’s leadership for generations.”

I cringe when she says his name, making everything far too real for my liking.

“Garner?” I repeat, his name tasting sour as it leaves my lips.

“Yes, the Conri family has graciously agreed for the mating.”  She responds matter of fact like they are doing me some sort of favor by forcing us both into something we don’t want.

I’ve gone to school with Garner since elementary. I’m the last person he would want to be married to. We have nothing in common.

“I’m not marrying someone I don’t even know.”

Lydia exhales sharply through her nose.  “This stubbornness was cute when you were younger, but you’re almost eighteen now.” Her voice hardens slightly. “You need to start appreciating what’s been given to you.”

Something inside me snaps.

“Given to me?” I repeat.

My heartbeat pounds violently in my ears. I’ve never even raised my voice to Lydia, let alone talked back or shown her any sign of disrespect. And not because it’s one of the Alpha’s rules either. But because I care about her. Because she saved me. Because she took me in and raised me like her own when she didn’t have to.

I just never thought she would throw it in my face.

“I didn’t ask to be abandoned,” I say, taking a shaky step backward toward the stairs. “I didn’t ask to be dumped at the border of a shifter pack like some unwanted mistake.”

Lydia’s face falls instantly and I know that I’ve made her feel bad.

“And I sure as hell didn’t ask to be married off to some stranger just because nobody here knows what else to do with me.”

“Sariah…”

“No.” My voice cracks. “You all keep acting like I should be grateful just because I was allowed to survive here. But we all know the truth. If it wasn’t for you begging the Alpha to let you keep me- so you could finally have a child of your own- I would have been left or dumped somewhere else to fend for myself.”

The room goes painfully quiet.

For one horrible second, guilt flickers across Lydia’s face.

Not anger.

Guilt.

I turn and storm up the stairs before she can say another word- my bedroom door slamming hard enough to shake the walls. The sound echoes through the silently still house.

Breathing hard, I rip my jacket off and freeze.

There’s something sitting in the center of my bed.

A black envelope stamped with the silver crest of Darkthorne Academy. And right below the crest is…

My name.