2. REID

Chapter two

REID

My room is barely that—a small box with a bed shoved into the corner, a dresser too narrow for its drawers, and a bathroom that smells faintly of mildew no matter how much I clean it. The Wilhelm mansion is massive, every inch of it polished and pristine, but my space feels forgotten. It’s fitting, really. I’m not part of the family, not part of the pack. Just a Beta with a contract and no way out.

I close the door softly behind me and lean against it, letting my forehead rest against the cold wood. My cheek still stings where Hailey slapped me with the rag and the dull ache in my shoulder has worsened. Her aim was terrible, but the lamp she threw the other day connected just enough to leave its mark.

The worst part is that I could stop her. I’m taller, stronger, faster . If I wanted to, I could shove her aside, walk out the door, and never look back. But I can’t. The mark on my shoulder binds me here. The Wilhelm crest, a decorative tattoo stamped into my skin during the ceremony, and the unspoken brand of my family’s betrayal keep me tethered. That and every time I tried to leave, the Wilhelms called whatever police officer they had in their back pocket to retrieve me. There's literally nowhere to go.

I strip off my shirt, tossing it into the corner where it joins the pile of other ruined clothes. The fabric is worn thin in spots, stained in others, and I can’t afford replacements. Not when everything I earn funnels back to my parents. Reid, this is for all of us, they’d said. You’re doing something good for the family.

A bitter laugh tumbles from my lips. I’m just a pawn they sold off for a life of comfort I’ll never see.

The mirror above the sink is cracked, a jagged line splitting my reflection in two. I don’t bother looking at myself as I step into the shower. The tile is cold against my feet, the faucet groaning before water spills out, icy at first and then scalding. For some reason, I still find comfort in this silent space, reaching for the bottle of descenter body wash in the corner.

I pour the thick liquid into my palm, the sharp chemical scent stinging my nose. It’s designed to mask all scents, even the faintest trace of individuality. It’s ironic, really. The Wilhelms demand I have no scent of my own, yet Hailey insists she smells something offensive every time I walk by. This brand adds a chemical edge to my natural smell and while there are so many other types, Hailey insists on this one.

The soap stings as I lather it over my skin, catching on the raw patches on my hands. I hiss, clenching my teeth but I keep scrubbing. The pain is grounding, a reminder that I’m still here, still standing. My shoulder throbs where the bruise is blooming, the water only making it worse.

I could argue with her, I think. I could tell her she’s wrong—that I haven’t been outside all day, haven’t been near an Alpha outside this pack in days. But what would be the point? The consequences of defiance are always worse than compliance. I learned that the hard way in my first week here. A missed curtsy to Hailey she demanded on her birthday, a cup of tea not quite warm enough, and Jackson had me kneeling on rice for hours. Lyle made sure I stayed there.

Who the fuck still punished Betas like that these days?

The water cascades down my back as I rinse off the suds, my mind drifting to the day I lost everything.

My cheeks are still flushed from the celebration, the faint scent of alcohol and happiness lingering on my clothes. Tonight was supposed to be about me, about marking the end of six long years of balancing school, part-time jobs, and my parents’ expectations. A degree in biology—it’s not what they wanted, but it’s what I loved. And for once, I let myself believe I could carve out a future for myself.

But the moment I step into the kitchen, that feeling of freedom vanishes.

My parents are sitting at the table, their postures stiff, their faces unreadable. My mother’s lips are pressed into a thin line, her hands folded neatly in front of her. My father leans back in his chair, his arms crossed, his expression a mix of calculation and something I can’t quite place. Excitement? Anticipation? My stomach churns.

“Reid,” my mother says, her voice a little too calm. “Come sit.”

I hesitate, my pulse quickening. They’ve used that tone before, the one that promises something unpleasant. The air feels heavy and oppressive as I walk to the table and lower myself into the chair across from them. My father’s gaze is piercing, my mother’s uncomfortably soft.

“What’s this about?” I ask, glancing between them.

My mother reaches across the table, her hand cold as it closes around mine. “We have something important to talk about,” she says, squeezing lightly. “An opportunity. For you.”

“An opportunity,” I echo, my voice flat. “What kind of opportunity?” Other than working for my father at the mechanic shop or picking up a few classes as a substitute teacher at my mother’s school, there’s no opportunity I can think of. Neither one of them have friends in high places so it can’t actually be something that would further my development in a way I would enjoy. Whatever this opportunity is, it isn’t for me.

My father leans forward, his expression tight as all of the other emotions seemingly disappear. “The Wilhelm pack has offered you a contract to be their Beta.”

I blink, the words washing over me without sinking in. “A contract? What does that even mean?” The Wilhelms are a well-known influential family, although I couldn’t mention what they actually do to have that kind of power and wealth if my life depended on it. Stocks? Inheritance? Who fucking knows.

“It’s an honor,” my mother quickly offers, her voice trembling slightly, though I can’t tell if it’s nerves or excitement. “The Wilhelms are one of the most influential packs in the region. They’ve agreed to pay a dowry—a very generous one.”

The blood drains from my face. “A dowry? Like... you’re marrying me off?” I’ve never thought about getting married. Even the mere thought of having an Omega or an Alpha mate is far from my mind.

My mother flinches, her hand pulling back. “It’s not like that—”

“Then what is it like?” I snap, my voice rising. “You’re selling me to them?”

“It’s not selling,” my father growls, his tone leaving no room for argument. “It’s a job. A contract. You’ll live with them, serve them as their Beta. In exchange, they’ll take care of you—and us.”

The last two words hang in the air, heavy and suffocating. And us.

I push my chair back, the legs scraping against the floor. “I’m not here to make your life better,” I push out, holding back my real anger. “I’m your son, not some... commodity.”

“Sit down,” my father barks, his voice like a whip. “And shut up. You’ll do this because it’s your duty to this family.”

“My duty?” A bitter laugh tumbles from my lips, the sound sharp and hollow. “You’re joking.”

His hand slams against the table, making me flinch. “The contract has already been signed. The Wilhelms are expecting you. The Alphas are on their way as we speak. This is happening, whether you like it or not.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I didn’t sign anything.”

My mother looks away, while my father’s gaze doesn’t waver. There’s a contract on the table, a thick stack of papers neatly bound. I snatch it up, flipping through it until my eyes land on a signature at the bottom of the page.

My signature.

But I didn’t sign this.

“You forged my name.” My voice shakes as the weight of their actions finally hits me. I look up at them, my chest tight with disbelief. “You forged my fucking name.”

“You’re being dramatic,” my mother says, her voice clipped. “We did what needed to be done. This is for the best.”

“For who?” I demand, my hands trembling as I hold up the contract. “This isn’t a job. This is servitude. Five years of being at their beck and call? That’s what you’ve signed me up for?”

“You’ll be cared for,” my mother defends, her brows suddenly furrowed as if I’m the problem in this situation. “You’ll have everything you need. And you’ll be doing something you love—helping care for an Omega.”

The words hit me like a slap. “Helping care for an Omega,” I repeat, my voice dripping with venom. “So, I’m a glorified servant. That’s what you’ve sold me off to be. Because caring for an Omega and caring for my Omega are two wildly different things.”

“You’ll watch your tone,” my father growls as he pushes to his feet, his presence towering over me. Even as a Beta, he’s pretty large. His hand comes down hard against my cheek, the crack echoing through the kitchen. My head snaps to the side, my skin stinging but it’s nothing compared to the betrayal burning in my chest.

“You’ll do this,” he states, his voice low and dangerous. “Because it’s your duty. Be good, behave, and we’ll all have a better life.”

We. Not me. Never me.

My hands tremble as I flip through the contract, the words blurring until something catches my eye—a breakdown of payments. My salary. A six-figure amount that makes my stomach twist. But it’s not the total that hits me. It’s the distribution.

A portion of the payments, every month for the next five years, is set to go directly into an account I recognize. My parents’ account.

My chest tightens, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps. “You’re stealing from me,” I say, my voice barely a whisper. “Not only are you selling me off, you’re taking my money.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” my mother snaps, her expression sour. “We’ve done so much for you, Reid. This is the least you can do to repay us.”

I look between them, my vision blurring with unshed tears. They’ve made their choice. And I have none.

The water starts to cool, pulling me back to the present. I turn off the faucet and step out, wrapping a threadbare towel around my waist. My skin feels raw, scrubbed clean of anything remotely human. It’s what they want—a Beta with no scent, no personality, no fight.

I pull on a fresh shirt and pants, the fabric irritating my shoulder but I ignore it. There’s no point in lingering. If Hailey decides I’ve taken too long, she’ll find a reason to punish me and I’ve already earned enough bruises for one day.

As I leave the bathroom, my gaze catches on the cracked mirror. For a brief moment, I let myself look. The face staring back at me is unfamiliar—eyes hollow, shoulders slumped, a shadow of the person I used to be.

I turn away before the reflection can swallow me whole.

Especially because I already know what my reflection would truly show me and I don’t want to see it.

The dark, curling mark etched into the skin of my left shoulder .

The pack bond, branded on me during my “welcome” ceremony three months ago. The swirling design is intricate, almost beautiful but to me, it’s a leash, a permanent reminder that I don’t belong to myself anymore.

I run my fingers over the raised lines, the skin still faintly tender even after all this time. The bond doesn’t glow with the connection of a true packmate—there’s no warmth, no sense of belonging. It’s a symbol, nothing more, a flag that tells everyone who sees it that I belong to Jackson and Lyle Wilhelm.

Owned .

No amount of soap or scrubbing will erase it, though I’ve tried. The memory of the ceremony is etched just as deeply into my mind as the mark is on my skin. Hailey had sat perched on a velvet chair, a glass of champagne in one hand, watching with a cruel smile as the Alphas pressed their brand to my bare shoulder. It had burned into my skin like acid, leaving me dizzy and nauseous, but I’d stayed silent. Just like I always do.

I sit on the edge of the bed, letting the cool air from the vent dry my hair. This is the only place I can breathe, the only place in the mansion where Hailey’s scent doesn’t linger. It’s a brief respite, one I cling to, knowing it’ll vanish the moment I step back into the hallway.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand and my stomach twists when I see the name on the screen. Mom. I don’t want to answer, but ignoring her only makes things worse. She will occasionally call one of the Wilhelm Alphas to check on me and then they take it out on me when they find out I haven’t been keeping up with her. It’s an endless cycle of defeat where I always lose.

I swipe to accept the call and bring the phone to my ear, steeling my nerves for whatever reason she’s chosen to berate me with.

“Reid,” her voice is clipped as if she’s speaking to a subordinate rather than her son. “How’s everything going? The money came through this morning.”

“It’s fine,” I say automatically, but the lie is thin, barely holding together. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound fine.” There’s no concern in her voice. “You’re not causing problems, are you? You know how important this is for all of us.”

“Mom, it’s—” I stop myself, gripping the phone tighter. I don’t know how to tell her. How do I explain what it’s like to live as Hailey’s punching bag, to be constantly belittled and used? Mom wouldn’t care. She never does.

“It’s hard,” I finally say, the words slipping out before I can stop them. “I don’t think I can keep doing this.”

Her scoff is sharp, cutting through the line like a slap. “Reid, don’t be dramatic. You’re a Beta. This is what you’re meant for. Hailey is an Omega; she deserves to be pampered. You need to do your job and stop complaining.” And there's the hypocrisy. Mom's a Beta; so is Dad and neither of them ever served anyone.

“She threw a lamp at me yesterday,” I force out, gritting my teeth to keep from letting my mother catch onto the rage simmering beneath the surface. “She hit me because she didn’t like the light bulb, Mom. That’s not normal.”

There’s a long pause and for a moment, I think she might finally understand. But then she sighs, exasperated. “Reid, you’re overreacting. Hailey is a little high-strung, sure, but that’s why they hired you—to keep her happy. You should be grateful. Do you know how many Betas would kill for the chance to work for a family like the Wilhelms?”

Grateful. That word makes my chest ache and yet, it’s almost laughable. “You mean how many parents would sell their son to a family like the Wilhelms,” I mutter, the bitterness slipping out before I can stop it.

“Watch your tone,” she snaps. “That money is keeping this family afloat. Do you think your father and I could afford to retire without it? Pay off the house? You’re doing your part for this family and you’ll keep doing it.”

“I don’t even have a life anymore,” I say, my voice breaking. “I’m barely surviving here and you don’t care.” Not that I expect you to.

Her silence is damning. Finally, she says, “You need to grow up, Reid. Be good. Behave. And stop being selfish. Goodbye.” The line goes dead.

I stare at the phone, the knot in my chest tightening until it feels like I can’t breathe. I want to throw it, smash it against the wall, but that would only give Hailey another reason to yell. Instead, I set it back on the nightstand, my hands trembling.

The bed creaks as I lie down, curling into myself. I reach for the bottle of pain meds hidden in the drawer and dry-swallow two, hoping they’ll dull the ache in my shoulder and the pounding in my head.

A bitter laugh falls from my lips, the sound hollow in the quiet room. “Cinderella had to have it better than this,” I mumble to no one. At least she had a fairy godmother.

Here, there’s only me.