I climbed out of the ring gingerly, picking my way through the ropes and down the small flight of steps in the corner. My whole body pulsed with pain now that my fighting high had come to an abrupt halt. Once on the ground, I limped past my father and took a seat on the nearest bleacher, closest to my bag of supplies. Across the room, my brother had his fists wrapped up in Josh’s shirt. It seemed Josh had his greatest fears realized once my father had arrived on the scene. Tyler shook him, forcing his neck back and forth like a puppet on a string, snarling, “Did you guys think you were tough shit beating up a female? Huh?”
I could feel Josh’s quivering from where I sat. For a beta, there was nothing worse than coming up against a strong alpha. Betas, the absolute followers of Pack, shied away from confrontation. Less than a third of the wolves born were beta; all the rest were alpha, constantly fighting and jostling for their place in line.
Much to my chagrin, I’d been alpha-born too. I’d just drawn the extremely shitty straw of being a girl and a human, instead of a boy and a wolf. The fact I’d been born at all equated me to being one big, scary genetic freak. Werewolves didn’t possess the DNA to create a female, so there was no rational explanation for my existence. I’d been labeled a witch, a freak—something the wolves had the right to punish. Couple that with a myth declaring me evil, and my life on the Compound had been set from birth.
Wolves were pain-in-the-ass superstitious, which meant my very existence threatened them. By walking around, I reminded them of that daily.
“Explain yourself.” My father stood in front of me, legs splayed. “What exactly did you think you were going to accomplish here tonight? Death? Challenging wolves is the quickest way to get yourself killed. This behavior won’t be tolerated, and it will stop tonight.”
I slid my gym bag closer, unzipped it, and plucked a towel out with my left hand. My right was so swollen it didn’t even look like a hand anymore—it looked like a cartoon glove. It throbbed, but it hadn’t overcome me yet. It was about time something swung in my favor. I cleared my throat, which was still bruised and sore. “I had no other choice but to fight him.” Surprising myself with honesty. That hadn’t been the plan. “It was either we clashed here or the bullshit was going to escalate to violence on its own. So I made a decision. Things have changed. Pack has gotten less tolerant of my presence, and I was hoping if I took Mitch down a few notches, I could breathe again for a little while.” I glanced up at my father, blotting the towel carefully on my face. “I know there are ‘sanctions’ against harming me—that you will kill any wolf who touches me—but I needed this fight. It’s time for me to choose a battle to fight, or it’s time for me to leave.” The word “leave” hung in the air with unspoken meaning. “The wolves and I can’t coexist here any longer. Now that I’m of age, the wolves are too restless, too fearful of what my presence means. You know all this already; you’ve seen the signs. You’re just choosing not to see what’s right in front of you. I’ve asked you to send me away, begged you to send me anywhere, but I’m still here.”
“I see just fine,” my father growled. “I understand there’s posturing with the young ones. I understand there are dominance issues with having a female in Pack, and there’s fear, but that doesn’t mean it can come to blows and end up like this.” He gestured to the ring in frustration. “You could’ve died tonight, and I won’t allow that to happen. If the wolves are agitated, I’ll institute more changes and deliver steeper penalties for any behavior involving you. I can fix this without sending you away, where you would be in more danger without my protection.”