Yes Father

Stepping out into the warm sunshine, I feel nothing but cold. A shiver runs through me when I see Deadrick Pride’s imposing figure looming at the end of the gravel path. A hint of anger still boils in his grey eyes as he approaches me at the bottom of my stoop.

He barely surveys the damage he caused last night, grimacing as though the state of my home was the result of my shortcomings. Like the wreckage is proof I’m always at fault.

How dare I not repair everything he ruined in mere minutes? Useless, stupid Makayla.

Before he reaches me, I step forward and bow deeply, as is required for underlings when in the presence of pack leadership. Can’t say I hate it. It gives me an excuse to look away from his perpetually disappointed face.

To meet his eyes would be like stepping into a minefield, so I keep my gaze lowered even after finishing the bow. Volatile doesn’t even begin to cover my father’s temperament, and there’s no way of knowing what will set him off.

“You took your time,” he grunts, his voice heavy with agitation.

“My apologies, Beta Pride. I’ve only just returned from my perimeter check,” I reply, careful to stay in line. Drunk Deadrick is a nightmare; sober Deadrick is deadly. My body has only now recovered from Wesley and Russel’s beating. I refuse to earn another this morning.

“I don’t want your half-ass excuses, Makayla.” His finger presses into my forehead, tilting it far enough for his stony face to come into view. “Unfortunately, for now, you represent River Crest. As such, you are expected to perform your duties and maintain an air of professionalism that I find you lacking as of late.”

With a quick glance, he references the shattered remains of my trailer and the muddied, soiled clothing hanging from my body. It’s as if he isn’t the cause of half those issues.

“If you can’t handle the privileges we give you as the guard for this section of our territory, I will find more meaningful employment for you.” His finger starts digging into my skin, but I know better than to wince. He’s looking for a reason to unload on me. Breaking my things must not have been satisfying.

I respond with a well-rehearsed monotone that betrays neither resentment nor enthusiasm. Either would tip him into violence.

“I am grateful for the opportunity, Beta Pride. River Crest deserves only the best. I am truly sorry for not meeting those expectations. I will rectify this issue immediately.”

So long as I acknowledge my failures as a living creature and bend, I’ll survive.

A few seconds of silence tick by, and Deadrick Pride’s leering eyes study my soldier’s façade for any cracks. All he needs is an inch. I don’t budge.

Satisfied, he huffs, “Make sure to clean up this mess before tonight.”

No remorse on his face, no hint of regret. To him, trashing my life is as casual as breathing. He sees me, but I’m a speck in the background, not worth a second glance.

Finally, he backs away from me, removing his finger from my face and strolling around the front of my trailer. His business must not be finished.

“Moon Goddess above, why won’t he just leave?!” Milla snarls within me, wanting to break free. She’s usually so calm, but the last few hours have been hell for us both, and she’s dying to be freed. “Let me out, and I’ll make sure he never hurts us again.”

“We can’t do that, Milla.” Keeping a leash on her is too much for me right now. I can’t handle her attitude on top of his. Quietly, I take a few deep breaths, soothing Milla into silence for now.  

I keep my cool, somehow. Not easy, considering he’s a walking reminder of everything I want to escape. But there’s no point in even entertaining that thought now. Not while River Crest’s Beta is loitering outside my home.

“River Crest is in talks with the Io pack Alpha to establish an alliance between our two packs,” Deadrick begins, his voice cutting through Milla’s incessant growling and demands. “Those talks have culminated in a fruitful partnership, which we will celebrate this evening.”

What does any of this have to do with me?

It’s not as though I’ll be invited to join in any reindeer games. Not this little, red-nosed misfit. I don’t hear about these things until I slink into town for supplies three months later.

As if reading my mind, my father adds, “Normally, I wouldn’t waste time talking to you about such matters, but Alpha Nolan has instructed that you be present.”

The mention of his name makes my stomach knot in dread. Why me? Why now?

“We must present a united, strong front for the leadership of Io. Those savage mutts might be rising in influence and power. Still, we have one of the oldest bloodlines in history at the helm of River Crest. Despite our… flaws.” That last remark was for me, I know. He scans me from head to toe, assessing River Crest’s greatest “flaw” with a grimace before turning away in disgust.

“As the Beta, I represent the pack’s second line of defense and order. You… are my…responsibility. And should be present for the benefit of our powerful image.” Deadrick continues his spiel through grit teeth.

He’s not excited, not remotely interested. It’s like he’s reading from a script, playing a part he’s assigned. Good. I’m glad he’s as put out by this display as I am.

After touting the merits of leadership and presenting a united front, he issues his orders in that usual cold, bitter tone.

“Be there tonight,” he sneers, lips curling into a terse frown. “You’re my daughter, after all. So, put on a face. Be quiet. Do what you do best—be invisible.”

His orders come simple and blunt—be there because, for one night only, I’m his daughter and not the living bane of his existence. Unless Io Pack decides I’m worth a nod, I am to remain barely seen and not heard.

“Do you understand?”

I breathe to respond, but that is apparently the wrong answer.

He’s in front of me in a flash, furious eyes blazing. He grabs my arm, gripping it as he shoves me against the trailer. The metal exterior clangs as my head slams into it. I know it should hurt, but it doesn’t.

I’m numb to Deadrick’s little dance of power and fear.

Threats flow effortlessly from his lips—poisonous promises of what awaits me should I defy expectation. If I dare create a scene and draw even the slightest hint of attention, he promises a fate worse than any nightmare—I’ll be tossed into the dungeons, a plaything for Alpha Nolan.

Now, that is something to fear. If Wesley is a villain, his father is a full-blown monster. My blood runs cold at the thought of being abandoned and left to the Alpha for his amusement.

I swallow hard, my heart thudding against my ribs. Despite this, my voice is steady, and my words carry a distant formality that masks the storm inside me.

“I understand your expectations, Beta Pride.” Without breaking eye contact, I offer the best imitation of gratitude, as sweet and convincing as one of Quinn’s performances. “Thank you for the opportunity to be useful to River Crest.”

Deadrick loosens his grip, releasing me with a shove. The friction in the air dims a fraction, though the bitter tension between us remains.

“Good. Now go clean yourself up,” he commands as if I’m a disobedient child. “You reek of piss and blood.”

“Yes, Beta Pride. Thank you, Beta Pride.” I bow once more and stay bent until his footsteps disappear into the woods and his scent all but fades from existence. A shard of broken glass rests below me, reflecting my pathetic expression.

Fine cracks run along the smooth surface, and I wonder if they’re part of the glass or part of me. What if those cracks are bleeding through my skin, revealing how close I am to shattering?

Will make-up and an old, thrifted dress cover that up and make me presentable enough for Io? For Deadrick? Oh, Goddess. For Alpha Nolan?

I would do anything to avoid being seen by him and his twisted son tonight. Interacting with Wesley once is more than enough. Being stuck in front of him and everyone else who hates me in River Crest is too much.

“What if I run away tonight?” I mutter to myself, half-convinced that I just may.

“Not tonight. They’ll hunt us. But soon, we will be free,” Milla growls.

I ask her what she means, but she’s gone quiet again. Of course. It’s always like this. Her silent looming, the promise of more, the withholding of information. I’d hate her with all the rest if she wasn’t my wolf.

I’m tired.

“Goddess, help me.”