Chapter 1 - "I Want You To Become My Beta."

Tatum Karas was lonely.

She was surrounded by close to a hundred people in this room, but she couldn't help but feel like there was not a single person for her.

She forced downed the lump in her throat.

This bitter, shitty feeling that has been eating at her chest since that fateful night, that night when everything she'd hoped for had been ripped brutally from her eight years ago was still an ever-persistent tug at her heart.

She knew she was supposed to be over it now.

After all, she didn't even know her Mate, right?

No.

After Tatum had begged her father to do so, he'd called every Pack he knew to get the list of people who'd died on that night, hopefully narrowing the possibilities of who might've been her other half.

And from what she'd discovered, she thought even if she couldn't be sure, she had a pretty good idea of who her Mate was.

Because, on that dark night, as far as they'd researched, only three people had taken their last breath; A warrior in his early twenties (unmated), a girl around ten, and a boy her own age.

With further prodding from Tatum, old Alpha Kyler had revealed that the boy had taken his own life, because he couldn't take the bullying anymore.

Tatum had never been so angry in her life when she'd heard that, and whether that feeling was because he was her Mate, or it was simply because she couldn't stand bullying, she had no idea. But to appease herself, Tatum liked to think that the boy was her Mate.

Llewellyn Carter was his name.

That was enough for her.

She would live knowing it, and she would make it a mission in her life to ensure that nothing like that happened in her Pack.

"Whoa! Tatum, it's you!" Angier exclaimed loudly, squinting his drunk eyes at first, when he caught sight of her. Then they widened in recognition from across the packed room, making him grin as he shouldered his way through the people unapologetically, using his muscle as he uncaringly hurt them on his hurry to reach her.

She was wrong. She had one person.

All to her greedy self until he found his Mate.

Once he escaped the throbbing mass of people, Angier threw his arms around her neck — one hand still clutching the lean neck of a beer bottle — and swayed her from side to side, hugging her heartily.

Tatum stiffened instantly, her spine going straighter than a ramrod as her mind, having rejected touch so long, struggled to cope up with the sudden onslaught of sensational overload. She dared not hug him back, simply standing and letting him hug her, long enough for him to get the message that she wasn't moving a muscle.

"I'm so glad you made it." Angier whispered sluggishly as he pulled back, taking a swig of his beer. For his hulking 6'2, all-muscle, wolf body to get so drunk, he must've consumed copious amount of alcohol this evening.

Tatum felt a tiny niggle of an emotion in the corner of her heart.

The feeling was so foreign she had to process it for a moment to realize it for what it was.

Worry.

"Enough for you." Tatum swiped the bottle from her best-friend's hand, making him stagger in surprise as he reached for it, almost stumbling forward into her, before Tatum reached out and arm and steeled it against his bicep to steady him. She took a swig of the drink, making him pop his mouth in surprise.

"Really, Tatum." Angier began, smirking, "After all this time, you finally come out to get drunk? If I'd known alcohol was your weakness, I'd have brought barrels of 'em to your home and lured you out." He laughed at his own lame joke, and Tatum shot him an impassive look.

It was true though. It was like a tradition with them. When they were in high school, Angier came to her house everyday, hanging out with her every evening as they did their homework, telling her all about the people she couldn't care less about, informing her about the upcoming events like parties, inviting her to every one of them, despite knowing that she wouldn't show up. She'd forced him not to hang out with her in school—which he ended up doing anyway, with excuses so lame that she sometimes felt like laughing out loud—because she knew she was miserable company and if she hadn't threatened him within an inch of his life, he would still skip football practice or chemistry lab and spend that time with her too.

Angier Wellington was loyal to a fault.

So they'd come to a compromise, her letting him come to her house so that he could get to take part in all activities like sports or even the frigging drama club—was there anything he didn't excel at?—things she was sure he would give up, if she let him hang out with her 24/7.

And three years after graduating, he still came to her home like they were kids.

That persistence had broken Tatum's will, and she'd finally decided to show up to this party he was going on and on about and find out what all the rage was about.

Thankfully for Tatum, all the kids were too drunk to realize just who had come, so no one had made a big deal out of it like in the movies, where everyone stares at the new person like they had two heads.

"And," Tatum paused, giving him a stern look, "I didn't come here to party. I wanted to drive you home."

Angier rolled his eyes in disgust. "Cut the shit, Tatum. It's not even 9 yet. Just admit that you wanted to see what this was about." He smirked, "And, to get drunk."

"Like I've not been drunk before." She said drily, raising a challenging brow.

"Of course, how can I forget that."

Drinking was kind of her favorite game. It's not like she was a raging alcoholic, she just liked the buzz it gave her, the way she could shrug off her very-serious-all-the-time persona, and laugh at the ridiculous things Angier did, and, if she was being honest, even letting herself admit that he was becoming hotter with every day that passed.

Unfortunately for her, the guy knew how good he looked, and wasn't ashamed of using it to his advantage. 

"Whatever, c'mon Tatum, let's go back inside, I'll show you how a night of partying is done," He winked, and turned around, expecting her to follow, instead of dragging her like she knew he would love to, because he knew better than anyone that she didn't like to be touched.

Tatum had no choice but to comply.

~ * ~

An hour later, Tatum was sitting as rigid as ever on one of the bar stools, while Angier was out there somewhere in the middle of the dance floor, jumping around without shame, not caring that his moves were shit and his coordination was even shittier, as he partied like it was his last day on earth.

Tatum wished she could do that.

Not here. Maybe at home, she thought, consoling herself with that.

She was staring ahead at nothing, her gaze unfocused as she contemplated what she was going to do in the one year that was between her and the date when she would be declared Alpha. Just thinking about ruling a Pack all alone, without a Mate by her side, made her throat thick and her hand tremble on its hold of the bottle she'd been nursing for the past hour.

I thought I was over this.

Apparently not.

"Please, Tatum, I gotta have at least one more drink, puhleassseee." Angier begged, dramatically falling to his knees by her stool as he appeared out of nowhere, looking up at her with his infamous puppy eyes.

He was begging because the bartender wouldn't dare go against the future Alpha. Besides, Angier's father wasn't any kind of a leader, so he can't influence the guy with any of that power-mojo either.

Tatum was embarrassed. AF.

"Angier," Tatum's voice was as sharp as a whip cracking the wind, "Stand up," She snapped, looking around as even the drunk patrons started pointing and laughing at them.

"Pleaaaassseeee." He continued, his drunk senses too daring and that much harder to embarrass.

"Angier Drake Konrad Wellington," She glared, "This is not the way a good Beta would act."

"I don't care, I just need —" It took a few long moments for his alcohol infused brain to catch up, "Wait, what? Beta?"

She grabbed his arm and hefted him up, taking advantage of his shocked state to prop him on the stool next to hers. He looked so thrown off his game, so completely shocked that it seemed he couldn't fathom what to say.

Tatum felt the urge to smile for the first time in a very long time.

"Yes." She acquiesced, "I've thought a lot, and I've decided that if I'm gonna rule this Pack alone, I, for the least need a Beta with whom I can talk."

"I, you, um, what?" He looked to be at a loss for words, and no matter how much she tried, she couldn't help but let the small smile lift her lips as she regarded her best friend take in the news that would change his life.

"Yes, Angier Wellington, I'm going to tell father that I want you as my Beta."

Angier looked like he might jump off the walls with happiness and throw up with the nerves emanating off him in waves.

"Wait, I can't believe that you would do something so big, and without telling me that you were even considering it!" He exclaimed finally, glowering at her, too overcome with emotions to notice that she was giving him what he'd always wanted, her smile.

"It's not like you have a choice." She declared, crossing her arms, "I will be training you, and you will be my Beta. Even if you have to kill Delilah Sanders for that." Tatum said without a hint of remorse. She'd long since stopped feeling bad that she didn't care about people or anything that wasn't of consequence to her. She knew she was hollow, filled with a darkness that consumed her too much for her heart to be big enough to feel emotions for so many other things, when she kind of hated her own self most of the time.

If her choice had to lead to the death of the rightful heir to the Beta's position, then so be it.

Tatum knew that Delilah Sanders was not the right Beta for herself. Maybe she would've been if Tatum had been her old, cheery and happy all the time self, but her heart now was too guarded and cold to let her develop a bond strong enough with the female to let her become her Beta.

So, even if she felt sorry for her choice, which she undoubtedly did not, she would've made this decision.

Now, all she had to do was convince Angier that he could do it.

"What?" The man in question spluttered, looking shell-shocked, "Kill Delilah?" She hadn't thought he would make such a big deal out of it, "You want me to challenge for the position!? No way! I will not do it!"

"Angier," Tatum started, looking at him patiently, "I've seen Delilah train, and trust me, she's not strong enough. And you've trained with me all your life, so you have to know that how you've been trained is how an Alpha is. With a little more tweaking, you can take her out easily. The fact that you don't have the blood in your veins won't even matter." She exhaled, hoping he was convinced, "And, believe me, being a natural heir works to your advantage only if you hone your skills all your life. She hasn't, because as you know, Beta Sanders stupidly wanted to wait for a male heir, so it'll be child's play."

Angier looked unconvinced yet, as he swallowed nervously. "Um."

Tatum took both his hands in her palms, holding them tightly as she looked into his eyes with as much emotion as her lifeless heart could muster, "Please, Angier."

Angier let out a shuddery breath, and Tatum knew she had won.

"Okay,"

The one word made her so happy, she gave him another one of her rare smiles, dropping his hands as she signaled for the bartender.

"One last drink for the Beta."

~ * ~

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