Chapter 6
SIX
Faye
Inside, the crowd is even more raucous than when I first went outside, and I struggle to push my way through the bodies. They press closer, guys and girls alike reaching out, grabbing my dress, telling me to loosen up and dance. It’s like the alcohol and the hormones have made all of them think that tonight is one giant orgy.
I feel like I’m going to be sick. All this touching. All these people. All the smells. There’s no room to just… exist. So, I do the one thing I’m not supposed to do—I slip out into the hallway.
It’s an immediate, sudden relief. The hallway is relatively dark and quiet, and though I can hear the faint noises of the party in the ballroom, it’s so muffled it doesn’t bother me. I slide down the wall, not caring what happens to my gown, letting my head fall into my hands.
What’s so wrong with me that I can’t stand an evening in a ballroom, surrounded by luxury? For most omegas, this is the dream, and I’m out in the hallway, hiding from it.
The thing is, I know what’s best for me. I know I’m not meant to be linked to another person. I know I can’t handle being linked to another person. The council, and all these damn alphas, need to just accept that and let me go back home.
When can I go home? I just want to go home.
It’s only a matter of time before someone comes along and scolds me for being in the hallway when I’m supposed to be in the ballroom, letting the men sniff all over me. A shudder runs through my body at the memory of that man—Cayson—pressing his nose into my neck. It had no business feeling as good as it did, and I try to convince myself that the shudder that went through me was caused by disgust, and not related to the warm, tingling feeling in my stomach.
But why did being touched feel like that? Would I have felt that way being touched by anyone after so long, or was that man special? I don’t like the direction of my thoughts. It feels like I’m shining a flashlight into the corners of my mind that are best left in the dark.
There’s a sound down the hall. I flinch, heart in my throat, but no one comes. No one is there, but I know someone will be soon, and I can’t be caught out here when they arrive.
Forcing myself to stand, I take a few deep breaths, closing my eyes. I need to ready myself to go back into the ballroom. I need to be prepared for all the people, all the sounds, and all the smells. Today is just the first day of The Selection. There’s going to be a hell of a lot more events like this.
I can handle this. I can do this. Seconds will turn into minutes, then hours, and it’ll be over. I just have to stop being a coward.
Before I can move, something wraps around my neck, tight, and I feel my head bounce off the wall as I’m shoved back. When I open my eyes in a panic, he’s standing in front of me, the man from my nightmares, a wicked grin across his face. The same grin he had that day.
I feel the color drain from my face and my heart stop in my chest. He’s here. Kurt’s actually here.
I can’t look at him without seeing Miles’ body. Without hearing the sound of my brother’s neck being crushed. Without seeing the blood and the emptiness in my brother’s eyes.
Kurt cocks his head, tightening his fingers around my throat, cutting off my air supply so I can’t scream, and my hands fly to my neck, trying to pry his fingers away. My movements are rushed and filled with terror, as I try to use all my strength against him.
It’s no use though. I wasn’t strong enough then, and I’m not strong enough now.
His dark eyes hold mine as he squeezes the life out of me. I should kick my feet. I should thrash, go for his eyes. But I can’t move. Can’t think. Just like the day he killed Miles. I’m frozen. Useless.
Grief and dread well inside me as the memories come, unbidden like always. My brother, screaming, begging for mercy, Kurt’s boot on the side of his neck, the sickening crack that echoed throughout the forest. My throat, stinging in pain, ripping open with agony. It took me an hour to realize I had been screaming the whole time, even after Kurt and his goons left.
Kurt had left Miles’ body there on the ground, his head bent at an unnatural angle, his eyes wide-open and bloodshot, his mouth still crying out for help, for someone to save him. I’d sobbed the entire time I wrapped his body in a tarp, dragging it back home.
Shaking and still buzzing with shock, I’d dragged myself to the nearest courthouse, my voice cracking as I explained to the sheriff what had happened. What I had seen with my own two eyes.
I was left in the interrogation room for a long time, then, eventually, the sheriff returned with a kind looking woman in a pink sweater. What did this woman have to do with finding Kurt and arresting him for what he had done?
“Good evening, Faye,” the woman had said, sitting across from me and reaching out, putting her hand on mine. “I understand you’ve been having a difficult time.”
“Yes,” I’d croaked, taking another tissue and dabbing at my eyes. I looked up at the sheriff, who was standing next to the door, his arms crossed. “Miles was killed. By Kurt Baine of Pack Obsidian. I saw it happen.”
A funny look crossed the woman’s face that I couldn’t quite read. “Tell us about it.”
I took a deep breath. “My brother and I were in the woods near my grandparent’s cabin, and got separated while we were playing a game. Kurt and his buddies came across Miles, I think by accident. I heard the commotion and came over to see what was going on– no one ever ventures out by our woods–so hearing strange voices was frightening. When I saw the group of big alphas insulting my brother, I was too scared to approach them. They started pushing him around, threw him to the ground, and then Kurt asked his buddies if they wanted to see him kill a worthless beta. They were laughing, taunting my brother. Miles tried to get up. To escape. Kurt threw him to the ground and stepped on his neck. I tried to stop him, but Kurt’s friends held me back. And then, while my brother cried and pleaded, Kurt crushed his neck.”
The woman reached forward, putting both of her hands on mine and smiling gently. “I understand you’ve gone through some other family tragedies. Sometimes, when our brains go through trauma like that, it’s easy for us?—”
I’d yanked my hands back, glancing up at the sheriff. I started to stand out of my seat. “You don’t believe me? I saw him do it with my own two eyes!”
“Please, Faye, sit down and we can—” she began.
“No. I don’t believe you, and neither will the council,” the sheriff said, looking like he had finally lost his cool. He stepped toward me, jamming a finger in my face. “The rising alpha of Pack Obsidian is a good man. I’ve known his father for years. I saw him when he was in diapers, and I’ve watched him grow into the man he is today. And that man is not a murderer.”
“I—” I said, struggling to catch my breath. When I was packing up my things, coming to town to tell the sheriff about what happened, I didn’t even consider that he might not believe me. “But I saw it happen.”
This can’t be happening. They have to believe what I saw with my own eyes.
The sheriff gave me a disgusted look, like I was something below pond scum. “And that’s why I brought a counselor to speak to you. Clearly, you’re having hallucinations.”
Anger and disbelief coursed through me. “My brother is dead . That’s not… that’s not a hallucination! I had to move his body!”
The sheriff sneered. “Like I told you before, we can come and investigate whatever accident led to his broken neck, and take care of the body. But I won’t entertain the notion of a false accusation against an alpha.”
When he stormed out, the woman leaned toward me, her voice soft as her eyes darted around the room as if looking for spies. “Kurt’s father, Dexter, is the leader of Pack Obsidian. You remember him? He wasn’t invited to a birthday party hosted by the alpha of a smaller pack… and then the alpha’s entire family was murdered, somehow. He’s also the one who started a war with Pack Scarlet because he thought their leader insulted him. Dozens of shifters were killed when he attacked with all his alphas. And he has a lot of alphas. The most of any pack and all regularly trained for war.”
What she was telling me was clear. As psychotic as Kurt was, his father was even more unstable. No one would risk insulting him for fear of the consequences. Saying that Kurt didn’t kill my brother was their way of sweeping everything under the rug to protect “the greater good.” The greater good didn’t matter to me though: I was determined to find justice for my brother, to take a dangerous man off the streets.
Leaving his office, I didn’t stop until I stood before the council. The three ultimas whose words held the most power. I begged them to take some action against Kurt, yet they did nothing. I went to my pack, to my alpha, Charles, and pleaded with them to add their voices to mine, so that someone might listen, but they avoided eye contact. Pretended like they couldn’t hear me. Like Miles’ death was just something that could be ignored and forgotten. Only Addilyn looked at me, but we both knew our voices together would do nothing.
As an omega, I had lived my entire life in deference to others. I knew when my voice wasn’t going to be heard. And now an omega was accusing an alpha. If I were an alpha, they would’ve listened to me. Miles would’ve gotten justice. So after I’d pointlessly tried everything possible, I made the long trek back to my cabin, where I spent two days digging a hole in which I could bury my brother.
Now, Kurt makes a noise, drawing me out of my reverie. His breath, which smells like rancid cider, fans out over my face, as I continue to grab at his hand. A dark thought occurs to me. Maybe he won’t be satisfied until every last person in my family is dead. I stop grabbing at him, letting my hands drop. Maybe I’ve been fighting too long. Maybe my fight is finally over.
Air floods into my body when he finally relaxes his hand, and I collapse to the ground, gasping in breaths. I’m alive? He let me go? No, this man is a murderer. He’s not done with me yet.
I look up at him, and our eyes lock for a long moment. I know something is coming. Something bad. I just don’t know what yet.
“Hello, Faye,” he snarls. He’s silhouetted in the light from the hallway, and from this angle, he looks even taller and broader than I remember him. A ball lodges in my throat when he leans toward me, that stink of alcohol washing over me again. He takes a long breath, his nose tipped down. Like he’s smelling me.
A shudder of disgust moves through me and a desperate need to escape him uncoils from within, but I can’t seem to move. I’m entangled in his awful web. In a nightmare.
“You smell good, Faye,” he says, one of his eyebrows quirking upwards.
I flinch away from him, desperately trying to keep from having a panic attack. Just as quickly as it appeared, the smile on his face drops, and he moves closer to me, boxing me in. Stealing even the small chance that I might escape.
“Don’t think I’ll ever forget about your little stunt. About you lying to everyone. Trying to say that I was the one who attacked your brother? Why would I waste my time with your worthless brother? Why would anybody believe a lying bitch?” His words are cold and cruel.
It’s obvious this man is a liar, the kind of man that tells his lies so many times that everyone around him starts to believe him. Maybe even he starts to believe himself. But I know what I saw. I know I’m not crazy. So he can try to paint any pretty picture he wants, but I’ll never forget what he did.
Yet, he keeps staring down at me. Keeps invading my space. More than anything, I want to close my eyes and avoid his gaze while he speaks. But my body feels paralyzed, and I keep looking right at him as he leans even closer, a piece of spittle landing on my cheek.
“I’ll never forget, Faye. Watch your back.”
With that, he steps back, turning on his heel and walking down the hallway, his boots clicking with every step. As I watch him go, the horror of his words doesn’t even sink in, because I’m too busy being grateful that he’s gone. But the thing is, we both know he won’t be gone for long.
Evil always has a way of coming back.