005

{The Price of a Secret}

The first hit on the wood made Betty scream, a rough sound that got stuck in her throat.

"Where is she? Where is that whoring little stray?"Dave's voice echoed down the hallway, shaking the floorboards in Betty's small attic room.

Betty was past the point of fighting.

She crawled into the tight space between her bed and the wall, pulling her knees to her chest and pressing her hands over her ears so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

She closed her eyes tight, warm tears running down and soaking into her dirty hoodie.

'Stop. Please stop. Just let me disappear, she prayed.'

BAM. BAM. BAM.

The door groaned on its hinges. Dave wasn't just knocking; he was trying to break everything.

Outside the door, in the hallway, Betty could hear Ruby's cheerful, high-pitched laughter. It sounded like a girl enjoying her favorite movie.

"Oh my god, Dave, stop! You're going to break the door, and then Mom will make her fix it," Ruby giggled.

Betty could hear the quick tap-tap-tap of fingers on a screen.

"I'm sending the video to Sheryl right now. She is going to skin Betty alive for being with the twins. Sheryl's literally typing back in all caps. She's saying it would be fun to watch Betty crawl back into whatever sewer hole she came from."

"She's not going anywhere until I'm done with her!" Dave shouted, his fist hitting the wood again.

"Open the door, Betty! You think because those princes walked you to the gate that you're royalty? You're a maid! You're a mistake! You're trash that I haven't taken out yet!"

Betty cried hard, her breath coming in quick, shaky gasps. She felt like the weight of the world was pressing down on her.

She was a stain.

An abomination. A girl with no scent and no future.

****

Far away, the mood was completely different, but the pressure was still strong.

Aiden and Adam stood in the dark alley where they first met Betty. It started to rain again, a light, cold drizzle that washed away the stray's smell into the gutters.

"Trail's long cold, brother," Adam said, leaning back against the brick wall.  His blonde hair was wet, sticking to his forehead. "The rogue is gone. Let's go home. The council meeting is at dawn."

Aiden let out a quick, frustrated groan, his golden eyes flashing in the dark.

"Home? You mean the palace where Sheryl is currently redecorating the throne room with her ego? Does that girl ever have a life of her own?"

Adam let out a low, smooth laugh.

"It's bad enough we have to suck up to the five pack leaders just to avoid a blood war. This arranged marriage shit is a headache even for us. But Sheryl is Alpha Pious's daughter. She's the 'intended.' She doesn't take hints, Aiden. She only takes territory."

"I hate stuck-up rich girls who think they own the air I breathe," Aiden muttered.

He pushed off the wall and headed toward their parked sports car—a sleek, black beast that looked like a shadow come to life.

"I will race you," Adam challenged, a wicked smirk crossing his face as he vaulted over the driver-side door of his own car.

"In your dreams, brother!" Aiden barked, but as he reached for the door handle, he paused. He looked back at the muddy waterhole where Betty had fallen.

Adam noticed the hesitation.

He rolled his window down as his engine purred to life. "Do you think she will be okay? The girl?"

Aiden stiffened.

He climbed into his car and rolled his own window down, the dashboard lights are shining red on his sharp face.

"Dave Miller won't dare do anything. Not after the way I looked at him."

"Since when did you start trusting a Miller?" Adam asked, his silver eyes serious. "They're one of the lying snakes in our father's court. Licking boots today, biting heels tomorrow. That kid Dave has 'abuser' written all over his pulse."

Aiden grabbed the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white.

He disliked the feeling in his chest—a weird, pulling sensation that felt like a rope.

He tried to shake it off.

"Come on, Adam. She's been living with them for years. She deals with their shit every day. It won't be that bad."

Adam shook his head, his blonde hair catching the light. "You're cold, man. Truly cold."

"I just don't like how off her scent was!" Aiden snapped, his voice rising in frustration. "Every wolf has a scent. It's the law of nature. But her? It's like she's a ghost. I hate complicated things, Adam. I like things I can hunt and things I can kill."

"Yeah," Adam mused, staring out at the rain. "She is a weird one. But you have to admit... she's a pretty one. I didn't know the Millers had something that beautiful hidden in the attic. Those curls, those eyes..."

Aiden's grip on the wheel tightened even further, a flash of possessiveness—dark and unearned—surging through him.

He forced a smile, though it looked more like a snarl.

"You're crazy, brother. Sheryl would rip out the eyes of anyone who dared to look at us. Imagine what she'd do to that poor stray if she knew we were even talking about her hair."

"Well," Adam said, his voice dropping into a bored drawl. "Sheryl is waiting for us. I just hope Silver hasn't ripped her head off yet. You know how hot-tempered our sister is when she's forced to play hostess to 'Barbie' shifters."

"That would save us the stress of the wedding," Aiden muttered. "Go on then. Let's see what the Queen Bee wants this time."

They started their engines at the same time.

The sound of the two V12 engines filled the industrial area like loud wolves.

They exchanged one last smile before speeding off, tires screeching on the wet road as they disappeared into the night.

********

Back at the Miller house, the screaming had stopped.

The quietness that replaced it was far worse.

The door to Betty's room was no longer hanging on its hinges; the wood was broken, and the lock was destroyed on the floor.

Betty was lying in the small space by the bed. She wasn't holding her ears anymore. She couldn't. Her body was curled up tight, and she was breathing in short, wet gasps.

She couldn't move.

Every time she tried to breathe, a sharp pain shot through her ribs. She was holding her stomach, her fingers covered in dark stains.

Beneath her, blood was slowly spreading, soaking into the thin, cheap carpet she thought was hers. It was dark and smelled like metal—the only smell she had left.

Dave's boots paced heavily in the small room. He wasn't shouting now. He was looking at her, breathing hard, his dark eyes wide as he suddenly realized what he had done.

He looked at his hands, then back at the broken girl on the floor. He hadn't meant to go this far. He had just wanted to break her spirit, to remind her that she was his.

But the rage—the jealousy of the twins, the hatred of his own desire for her—had taken over.

"Shit," Dave whispered, his voice shaking.

He didn't reach down to help her. He just stepped back toward the door, his face showing he didn't want to believe what was happening.

"Shit... look what you made me do, you bitch."

Betty closed her eyes.

The last thing she noticed was the flickering light in the hallway, and the last thing she felt was the cold floor against her.

As she started to lose consciousness, one thought kept repeating in her mind.

'Rogue.'

She wasn't a wolf. She wasn't a stray.

Maybe the twins were right. Maybe she was just a mistake that was finally being fixed.