5: Beta Jason

KYLA’S POV

Later that evening, the door slammed open and I froze just as I was placing the warm food on the table.

Tormund stumbled in, reeking of liquor. His hair was a mess, his shirt half undone and his eyes bloodshot.

He glared at the table and snarled. "What the hell is this?"

"Dinner," I said softly, placing a glass of carrot juice next to the plate.

"I wanted steak, not chicken!"

"This was what your mother said you wanted today."

"I DON'T WANT EXCUSES!" he barked. "ARE YOU MARRIED TO MY MOTHER OR ME?"

With a violent sweep of his arm, he knocked the plate to the floor and the food splattered everywhere. The crash echoed through the house.

I gasped, stepping back. My heart raced violently in my chest.

Before I could speak, he lunged forward and wrapped his hand around my throat, squeezing until I was choking.

"You dare serve me slop?" His breath reeked of alcohol as his claws grazed my skin. "You dare stand here like you're worthy of me? You're nothing. Nothing but a burden I was forced to carry."

Tears streamed down my cheeks. I clawed at his wrist, gasping for air.

Finally, he shoved me back. I collapsed onto the cold tile, coughing and wheezing.

"Pick it up," he ordered.

"Yes Alpha. I'll go grab a broom right away," I tried to stand, but he pressed his boot on my back, forcing me down to the floor.

"Not with your hands or a broom," he growled, his eyes glowing with cruelty. "Clean it up with your mouth."

My body shook violently. "Tormund, please..."

"DO IT! Or so help me Moon Goddess, I will whip you in front of the entire pack naked."

The words sent shock waves across my soul. Slowly, I lowered myself. The tile bit into my knees as I bent forward.

"Eat," he sneered.

My tears dripped onto the ruined food. I bent down, picking at the scattered food piece by piece with my mouth. Each bite was humiliation. Each swallow burned my throat.

Tormund smirked, watching. "That's right. This is where you belong. You're nothing but a low life who took my life and happiness away from me. Always remember your place."

The taste of dirt and gravy made me gag. But I forced it down.

As I ate the food off the floor, silent tears streamed down my face. I knew one thing for certain...if I stayed with Tormund, I would die. So I started making my escape plan.

******

Almost another year passed, and I had been making notes of how to escape, but my mother-in-law was always with me. It was difficult to do anything with eyes on me constantly. Every step I took, Tabitha's shadow followed. Every time I paused to breathe, her sharp tongue reminded me I wasn't free.

I kept a tiny notebook hidden beneath a loose floorboard in my bedroom, scribbling my ideas whenever I could: routes I might take, allies I might trust, timing for when Tormund would be gone. But no plan ever seemed strong enough. Moonveil pack was a cage, and I was its prisoner.

Tormund, strangely, had been somewhat kinder since that awful day when he made me eat food off the floor. His temper had lessened, his words had been less cruel, and although the wounds from his violence remained carved in my memory, I noticed his insults had been almost nonexistent lately.

I had watched him grow healthier as his body became stronger. His face was no longer pale and hollow. The sicknesses I healed had not returned. After I healed his bones, he was more sustainable to poisons and certain ailments, but now he was strong again, rarely getting sick. Sometimes, late at night, I would listen to his steady breathing beside me and wonder if that was enough for me to stay. I found my own happiness in his well-being, even if his heart never warmed to me.

I couldn't deny that a part of me loved him. I hated myself for it. I hated the way my chest still ached for his approval, how my pulse still skipped at the sound of his footsteps, how my body still remembered every rough touch. I blamed it on the mate bond, on the mark he had left on my neck that chained me to him no matter how cruel he became. I was still heartbroken that he never allowed me to mark him, and this was a known fact to the pack members. This made them lose even more respect for me.

I was making the bed when the sudden shrill of the phone startled me. I froze, then picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Luna Kyla." It was Jason, the new Beta. He had stepped up after my father retired six months ago.

"Beta, how are you?" I answered carefully.

His tone left no room for pleasantries. "The Alpha has been injured and urgently needs a blood transfusion. We need you down at the hospital now."

My breath caught. The phone nearly slipped from my hand. My chest constricted as terror surged through my veins. "What happened? Is he—?"

"Just come," Jason interrupted.

Terrified, I grabbed my shawl and rushed from the room. My legs carried me faster than I thought possible, my heart racing so hard I could feel it beating against my throat.

When I arrived at the hospital, Dr. Brando was already waiting, his expression sour as though my presence itself was an inconvenience. The Beta and Gamma stood like two stone-faced guards at the door of the room they claimed Tormund was in.

I pushed past them with wide eyes. My voice trembled as I spoke. "Doctor, how's my husband? Is he alright?"

Dr. Brando sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "The Alpha is stable for now, but he will need 800cc of blood," he said slowly, as if weighing each word. "And since his father is his only match for a blood type and the former Alpha is out of town, you have to be the one to give it, since you are a universal donor."

The words slammed into me like a stone. 800cc. My knees weakened. I had been so frail these days. Always tired, always dizzy, and my skin was already so pale. But if this would save Tormund's life, there was no second-guessing.

"I'll do it," I whispered firmly.

"Great," Dr. Brando smiled faintly, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I'll set you up in a room down the hall."