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“Betas have feelings, Noah,” I say, my voice wavering with emotion.
He sneers. “Oh yeah? Then what are you feeling right now?”
“Angry,” I say, my voice thick with unshed tears. “Obviously.”
“That just goes to show…” He sneers, sipping his drink. “You should feel relieved.”
“What? Why?”
He watches me shrewdly, holding the glass to his mouth. His throat moving in a swallow, he doesn’t take his eyes off me. Finally, he sets the glass aside, his mouth in a straight, decisive line as he leans over his desk, watching me.
Something begins to build in the room—the air is being sucked out, an energy buzzing in my ears. Against my will, I choke out a worried whimper and step back.
“I don’t want you, Hetty!” He finally bellows, throwing his arms in the air. The room shakes at the sound, the windows rattling, and the glass decorations on the shelves rumbling. “When are you going to understand that?”
I can’t stop a faint, pained sound from escaping my lips as I raise my hand to touch where my heart used to be.
“Do you really think I want to be with someone like you? Someone so weak?” he presses, his voice rough and dangerously serious. “You’re pointless … a pointless beta. And I’m the damn Administrator of the Order. Think about it.”
Too shocked to cry, I tilt my head and study him. I don’t know this version of him, I realize, staring at his face in the darkness. Once so familiar and comforting, now he looks like a stranger.
“Why are you doing this?” I murmur, my hand falling limply to my side. “This isn’t you.”
“Haven’t you heard?” He growls, leaning over the desk. “This is all an alpha is—hard, mean, dominant.” He barks out a laugh. “And omegas are complacent breeders, and betas … disposable servants. That’s how the world works.”
“I see.” A calm falls over me. “Then I suppose I should do what my alpha wants … and leave.”
“You’re finally catching on,” he snarls, leaning back in his chair. “Stay at Cypress House forever. Pour their coffee. Scrub their floors. Stay away from here and from me.”
I don’t take my eyes off him as I back toward the door. When I reach it, I pause to look at him one last time. I admire the shape of his face and the breadth of his shoulders. Holding himself perfectly still, he’s in control—like always.
“Goodbye, Noah,” I whisper before I turn, leaving him.
21
Five Lies
Noah
One Month Later
“You don’t have to do this, Noah.”
I turn from the window, reluctantly pulling my eyes from the crowd gathering in front of Goldenrod’s town hall.
Stella’s standing in the middle of the empty Administrator’s office, Wyatt lumbering behind her. How long have they been there? I can’t say for sure. I’ve been too lost in a futile attempt to stifle my choking sense of impending doom as I watch a crowd gather outside town hall.
Wordlessly, I walk to the middle of the room to meet them. Without any electricity, the room is dark—even at midday—and the air is stagnant and humid. The desk and the chair are gone, so it’s even emptier than it once was when I was here months ago.
Stella wobbles awkwardly in dirty sneakers, resting her hands on her ever-growing belly. She’s wearing a short blue cotton dress that looks suspiciously like a shirt I’ve seen Nick wear.
Wyatt doesn’t look much more put together. He’s wearing torn jeans and a white T-shirt, and his hair’s too long—he’s got it pulled back from his face and tied at the back of his head.
It’s hard for me to reconcile these disorderly versions of Wyatt and Stella with the brother and sister I grew up with. They’ve lost so much of their polish and pride.
Not me, though. I’m wearing a crisp suit and a fresh haircut.
“What do you want?” I finally ask them, my voice rough from disuse.
