Page 3 of His Beast

Again I’m confused, and it must show because he’s hasty to explain with blunt honesty.

“The guys at the club thought it would be hilarious to send someone like me to an event like this, leaving the ticket in my locker as some sort’ve cruel joke. I was going to ignore it, sit in my apartment, and continue on with my life as if I never saw the ticket. But then my mind wandered to possibilities I had no right having, and next thing I knew, I’m here.”

“Why do you feel you don’t have the right?”

Zayn blinks at me as if it was glaringly obvious before gesturing to the other event goers. They often continue to glance our way, mainly watching me as if I need to be protected, while engaging with their partners.

“The perfect specimens of their designations. They want your standard stereotypical partners. The ones they can show off and parade around because they have the looks to match. Then look at me. I don’t stand a chance. But at least I got to see this place for once in my life. Always heard about the Night of Scarlet. It’s beautiful, a memory I’ll keep for years to come.”

“You’re beautiful too.”

I can’t stop the words falling from my lips, but they were spoken with honesty. Zayn is beautiful in a way I can’t explain. My inner Omega has shown interest, and the scars on his face seem to only enhance its curiosity. I don’t know how he came about them, but I get the feeling that they were a result of an event he had to survive. Valla are supposedly fiercely protective of mates, and despite his biceps that showcase how strong he really is, I have this innate feeling that he would never hurt me if he claimed me as his. I came here as a favor to Alec and had every intention of leaving here without a mate, to continue through my life alone as I had been. Suddenly, that idea no longer appealed, and I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be by his side.

“W-what about you?”

“I’m not looking for a mate. That would require giving up what little freedom I have, and I worked too hard on my career to do that. I won’t be controlled by anyone. I won’t be forced to be a broodmare and made to obey. Like I said, I came here as a favor.” I shrug.

Zayn frowns and looks down at his beer. It was empty, the label long since peeled to shreds in a small pile on the table. “What do you do?”

“I’m a writer. Alec’s brother is listed as my official guardian, so I’m able to publish my work while also possessing a bank account that he had set up for me. He doesn’t control anything, like what I do or how I do it, but by listing himself as my guardian, he’s able to grant me a freedom that society would otherwise deny me, like owning my own home or having a career.”

“What if you meet someone who wouldn’t ask you to give that up? Especially if it brought you happiness? What if they have no desire to control you or use you as a… ‘broodmare’?”

I smile then, watching the wheels work behind those sage green eyes. He’s thinking, and honestly it was adorable. I get the feeling that he may be younger than me, but honestly, that doesn’t put me off in the slightest. Somewhere deep within me, I think I could be content with him. True love and fated mates are only things I write about, that doesn’t mean they happen in real life. Love isn’t always part of the equation, it certainly wasn’t for my parents. They formed a companionship built on understanding and agreeable conditions. I don’t think I ever saw them kiss if I’m being honest, but they were happy in their own way. I step off my chair and pulled a rose from his bouquet, twirling it in my fingers.

“Then I’d love to meet him.”

Zayn

The Omega walks away from me, taking my rose and his spiced honey scent with him. I’m baffled that he had approached me out of everyone here. He didn’t have a rose when he came to my table, but he left with one. Mine.

Quinn is alluring with a head of curly deep brown hair that bounces slightly when he walks. It’s long enough in the front that part of it falls into his hazel eyes that seem to see right through me. Not once did he mention my scars, only focusing on the cut that I had already forgotten is there. But above all else, he said I’m beautiful. There was no sharp edge to his pheromonal scent that hinted he was lying, and he genuinely seemed surprised when he said it, as if it was an internal thought that he hadn’t planned on voicing. I have never been called beautiful. Freak, disgusting, disfigured, heinous, ugly, scary. Those are things I’ve been called since the incident when I was seventeen, but not once have I been called beautiful.

I can’t take my eyes off of Quinn as he orders another drink at the bar, twirling my rose in his hand. As he moves back to his table, I notice he doesn’t have a bouquet waiting for him. He smiles softly as he lifts the flower to his face and I hope he could smell my scent among its petals. An Alpha quickly moves from the shadows, grabbing Quinn around his bicep and twirling him around to face him. Quinn stumbles on his feet, a mixture of surprise and annoyance in his expression as he drops the glass in his hand. It shatters in a thousand pieces of the floor, and the room falls silent.

The Alpha growls in Quinn’s face, his voice low and threatening, attempting to assert dominance. “That? Really? You left our conversation for that?”

“He is not a that. Our conversation was over, he seemed interesting,” Quinn snarled back, jerking his arm quickly to pull it from the Alpha’s grasp.

The Alpha crowds Quinn, pushing him into the table behind him. The glasses on the table teeter and begin to fall, shattering along its surface and onto the floor. The Alpha makes to grab him again, as if he had already claimed Quinn. But it’s my rose he holds. A low vibration starts in my chest as I step off my stool. Quinn’s eyes dart to me, and he shakes his head slightly, turning back to the Alpha.

“Sir, you need to back up. I’m not interested in finding a mate, so you need to back up right the fuck now.”

A loud bark of laughter from the Alpha echoes through the silent room, the scent of damp cardboard radiating from him, mixing with the distressed scents of several Omegas who crowd around us. My eyes remain fixed on Quinn, his expression changing based on whatever he sees on the Alpha's face. It’s akin to fear, his scent tinged with it, yet he continues to stand his ground.

“Yet, you talk to that, and take its rose. I watched you all night, little Omega. Rejecting rose after rose, yet you take this one.”

“Rules of the Night of Scarlet explicitly state that I don’t have to accept a single rose. I will tell you again, Zayn is not an ‘it’ stop referring to him as such. You’re simply proving that I was right not to accept you.”

The scene that unfolds feels as if someone had slowed time down, only to speed it back up again at two times the speed, jumbling everything. I must’ve blacked out briefly because the next thing I know, I have the Alpha pinned against the wall by his throat. His fingernails pathetically scratching at my grip as I cut off his air supply, my canines extended, while an inhuman sound emanates from my throat. Violence of any kind is strongly prohibited at these events, something I was told as I walked through the door, yet no one stops me.

The Alpha’s lips begin to turn blue, his damp cardboard scent slowly fading as his eyes struggle to focus on me. Suddenly a hand dripping with blood is thrust into my field of vision, distracting me with the metallic scent mixed with spiced honey and deep in color. I see blood every day in the ring, yet for some reason, I didn’t like that sight, not one bit. My hand squeezes a little tighter around Alpha’s throat.

“Zayn, stop.”

I look down to see Quinn, not realizing how much shorter he is compared to me until that moment. I stand at around six foot six, and I thought Quinn was rather tall for an Omega as he walked away from me, he still barely comes up to my shoulder. He held his hand up, blood dripping from a gash across his palm and down his wrist, darkening the sleeve of his shirt. He uses his hand to block the Alpha’s face so that I’ll focus on it, on him.

Immediately dropping the Alpha in my grasp, he crumples to the ground gasping for air. Gently taking Quinn's bleeding palm into my hand, I bend the fingers to the side to expose more of the wound. He hisses, wincing slightly, and I let out a low growl but he says nothing, my gaze flickering between his face and his hand.