3. REID

Chapter three

REID

I don’t remember falling asleep. One moment I’m staring at the cracked ceiling and the next, I’m being ripped from the fog of restless dreams by a sharp, searing pain in my ear. My body jerks awake as a hand yanks me upright and I blink rapidly, disoriented, my breath coming in short panicked gasps.

“Get up, you useless Beta!” Lyle roars, echoing off the walls of my small room. His grip on my ear tightens and I stumble out of bed, bare feet hitting the cold floor.

“I—what?” I stammer, my brain scrambling to catch up but he doesn’t let me finish.

“Hailey is crying in her nest,” he snarls, dragging me toward the door like a disobedient child. We’re around the same age, Lyle 26 or 27 but I always feel so much younger with how much larger he is than me. “What the hell did you do this time?”

“Nothing!” I gasp, clutching at his wrist, trying to ease the pressure on my ear. “I didn’t—she didn’t say—” I swallow back the whine of pain, knowing that Lyle will only find pleasure in that sound.

“Shut up.” He cuts me off with a growl. “You don’t get to make excuses.”

I bite my tongue, swallowing down the number of things I want to say. It doesn’t matter that I have no idea what set her off this time. It doesn’t matter that I’ve spent every waking moment bending over backward to keep her happy. None of it matters because, to them, I’m already guilty. I always am.

Lyle drags me down the hallway, his heavy boots thudding against the hardwood while I stumble to keep up. My heart pounds as we approach the kitchen, dread curling in my stomach. Did I not clean up all the pieces of her mug? Did I miss a spot on the counter? Or could it be something else entirely?

He shoves me forward and I barely manage to catch myself before I hit the floor. My knees slam against the tiles, the impact reverberating through my body. Everything hurts from earlier and this just makes it worse, pain tearing through my limbs.

I look up, and there he is—Jackson seated at the head of the table, his expression cold and unforgiving. “Look who finally decided to show up,” Jackson mocks. He stands, his imposing frame towering over me. “Do you know what I just dealt with, Reid? Hailey, in tears, because you can’t do your damn job.”

“I didn’t—” I start, but his hand shoots out, gripping my chin and forcing my head back until our eyes meet. The sudden movement sends a jolt of pain through my neck and I wince, but I don’t dare pull away.

“You only have one job,” he growls, his face inches from mine. “One. Job. To serve our Omega. And you can’t even manage that, can you?”

I clench my jaw, forcing myself to stay still. The rage in his eyes is palpable, a fire that threatens to consume me. I know better than to stoke it but his words cut deeper than any blow and something inside me snaps, just a little.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with your damn Omega,” I mutter before I can stop myself. The words are quiet, barely audible, but they’re enough.

Jackson’s growl is low and feral and before I can even brace myself, his fist connects with my face. Pain explodes across my cheek, sending me sprawling to the floor, my head spinning. The metallic taste of blood floods my mouth, a small gash on my tongue where I just bit it.

I stay down, my cheek pressed against the cold tile, breathing heavily as I fight back tears. Crying won’t help. It never does. So I grit my teeth and swallow the pain, the anger, the despair.

“You don’t speak unless spoken to,” Jackson states, anger rolling through his tone. “You don’t think. You don’t feel. You serve. That’s your place, Beta. Don’t forget it.”

I don’t respond. I can’t. My head throbs and every inch of me screams to fight back, to tell him exactly what I think of his place . Instead, I press my palms to the floor and slowly push myself up onto my knees, keeping my gaze fixed downward.

“Pathetic,” Lyle mutters from behind me. “He’s not even worth the pack bond.”

I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I taste blood again, but I stay silent. It doesn’t matter what they think of me. It doesn’t matter that I want to scream, to run, to disappear. I can’t. The contract my parents forged ensures that. Legally, I belong to them. If I leave, they have every right to drag me back, to punish me, to destroy whatever is left of my life. And if I tried to explain that my parents forged my signature, someone would end up in jail—with my luck, it would be me.

And even if I could escape, where would I go? My parents don’t want me. My friends—what few I had—don’t even know what’s happened to me. I’m alone, completely and utterly, and that’s exactly how they want me.

Jackson's voice pulls me from my thoughts. “Do you know why Hailey is crying in her nest right now, Beta?”

I don’t answer. I don’t know. I never know. And when I don’t know, it’s usually worse.

He stands, glaring down at me, his hands flexing at his sides. Lyle leans against the counter, arms crossed, the faint smirk on his lips telling me he already knows how this is going to end. Jackson’s eyes are sharp, gleaming with predatory intent. “Her scent,” he growls. “Her nest reeks of you .”

The words hit me like a slap, the accusation sharp and nonsensical. “What?” I blink at him, confused. “I—I haven’t been anywhere near her nest.” I don’t go upstairs for that very reason unless it’s during her heat when I need to strip the bed or provide meals.

“Liar,” Lyle snaps, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. Before I can defend myself, something heavy hits me square in the chest, falling into my lap. I look down and freeze.

Shirts. My shirts. A handful of them, crumpled and carrying faint traces of my own scent, tangled with the detergent I use. Shirts I’ve been looking for for weeks.

The pieces fall into place and the weight of it crushes me. She stole them. Hailey, with her sly smile and calculating eyes. She set me up . She must have snatched them from the laundry, or even from my room, stashing them in her nest to frame me. To make it look like I was trying to force myself into the pack, trying to insert my scent where it didn’t belong.

My mouth opens to protest or to explain—I’m not sure, but Jackson cuts me off. “You’ve crossed a line, Reid. To invade an Omega’s nest? Do you know what that means?” His voice rises, fury spilling out in waves. “You’ve disrespected Hailey. Disrespected us. And you have the nerve to stand here and deny it?”

“I didn’t—” I start, my voice cracking, but it’s no use.

“You didn’t?” Lyle rounds the corner and then his boot slams into my stomach, the air ripped from my lungs. I collapse forward, clutching my abdomen as I wheeze, the pain exploding through me. My vision blurs, but I don’t cry out.

I curl into myself, instinctively trying to shield my vulnerable spots as Lyle looms over me. “You’re pathetic,” he spits. “You think you can claim what isn’t yours? You think you can force a place in this pack?”

“I didn’t,” I rasp, my voice barely audible. “I would never—”

“Shut up,” Jackson snarls. He crouches down, grabbing a fistful of my hair and yanking my head back until our eyes meet. His grip is iron-clad, his face inches from mine and I can see the raw, unfiltered anger in his gaze. “You don’t belong here, Beta. You never have. You’re lucky we even let you in this house.”

Hailey’s lies are gospel in this house and I’m nothing more than a scapegoat. A tool to be used and discarded.

Jackson shoves me back, my head hitting the tile with a sharp crack. The world spins, but I force myself to sit up, clutching my stomach as I gasp for air. The pile of shirts lies in front of me, a damning display of my supposed “crime.”

“You’re a threat to her,” Jackson says, his voice cold and final. “To her safety, her stability. To her heat.”

I flinch at the word. Heat. The accusation is heavier than I imagined. To disrupt an Omega’s nest during their heat is a violation of pack laws, an unforgivable act. They’ve twisted the narrative so thoroughly, turned Hailey’s lie into a weapon, and now they’re going to use it to destroy me.

“You’ll leave,” Lyle growls out, his teeth bared as his Alpha bark pushes through. “Until Hailey’s heat is over, you’re out of this house. Out of this pack. You’re lucky we’re not reporting this to the authorities.”

“I didn’t do it,” I whisper, the words barely leaving my lips. I know they won’t believe me, but I have to say it. “I didn’t—”

“Get. Out.” Jackson’s command roars in my ears. “ Now .”

I stagger to my feet, every muscle screaming in protest, my body trembling from the blow to my stomach. My face burns with shame, my mind racing as I try to figure out what comes next.

For now, I’ll leave. I’ll do what they say, because the alternative is worse. But as I head down the hall to grab my things, the thought gnaws at the edges of my mind.

How much longer can I survive this?