Page 7 of Storm

"None of your fucking business," I snap, turning back to Rook, who's managed to get to his feet, swaying slightly. I wrap my arm around his waist, taking as much of his weight as my small frame can handle.

Jonathan's eyes narrow, and I lift my chin higher, refusing to back down to these alphas.

"Interesting," he murmurs, exchanging a look with Reed that makes my skin prickle with unease. I don’t want to know what that means.

"We're leaving," I announce, already turning toward the exit, practically dragging Rook down out of the ring with me. He's trying to walk on his own, his pride still intact despite everything, but I can feel him leaning heavily against me.

As we get just outside past the spectators, he stumbles. His large alpha build is no match for my tiny beta frame to hold up. I tumble towards the cold concrete floor. Holding my arm out in front to stop myself, I feel someone grab me. I turn to see Reed holding my arm, his grip firm but not painful. The contact sends an unexpected jolt through me—like static electricity, but deeper, more unsettling.

I jerk my arm away from Reed's grasp, the warmth of his touch lingers there. "Don't touch me."

His stormy eyes hold mine, something unreadable flickering in their depths. "Just keeping you from falling, Little Beta."

"I can handle myself," I snap, turning back to Rook, who's now slumped against a pillar, his breathing labored. Blood trickles from the corner of his mouth, and the sight of it reignites my fury.

The crowd has already moved on to the next fight, the next spectacle, and we are long forgotten. Only Reed and Jonathan remain. He’s watching us with those cold green eyes that seem to catalog my every movement, every reaction.

"Your alpha needs medical attention," Reed says, his voice surprisingly neutral now. "There's a doctor that works these fights. In the back room."

I know that, but he costs money. Money we don’t have to spare.

I help Rook, feeling his body trembling with the effort to stay upright. His scent is off—that familiar strawberries and cream now tainted with the metallic edge of blood and the sour notes of pain.

"We don't need your help," I mutter, but even as the words leave my mouth, I know they're a lie. Rook needs a doctor. The cut above his brow won't stop bleeding, and the way he's holding himself, I suspect he might have a cracked rib or worse.

Reed shrugs, his broad shoulders rising and falling with casual indifference. "He won't make it home like that."

My pride wants me to tell them to fuck off. But I know it’s true. I’ve never seen Rook like this after a fight.

Jonathan steps closer. "The doctor owes us," he says, his voice smooth and cold as ice. "No charge." I want to tell them to go to hell, but Rook's labored breathing stops me. His weight against my side is growing heavier, his body trembling with the effort to stay upright. Pride won't fix his injuries.

“I won’t fuck you.” If that’s the kind of payment he expects us to give him.

For a moment, a shocked silence hangs in the air. Then Jonathan lets out a sharp laugh, the sound cutting through the tension like a knife.

"You think highly of yourself, Little Beta," Reed says with a smug smile.

"But I assure you, neither of us is looking for that sort of...compensation," Jonathan adds, those green eyes simmering with something dark.

My cheeks burn with humiliation. I'm relieved that the dim lighting back here hides it. I hold my head high. "So, what do you want?"

Reed steps closer, his stormy ocean scent wrapping around me like a physical thing. "Consider it professional courtesy," his voice low.

I quirk my brow, surprised by this sudden change of attitude. In the past, Reed has never shown any courtesy to any beta-born alphas. And most don’t walk away from fights against him.

"What do you want?" I repeat, glancing over at Rook, who is leaning against me heavily now.

Reed's expression softens for a moment as he looks at Rook's injured form. "Just let us take care of him," he says, gesturing to the back room where the doctor waits.

I narrow my eyes suspiciously. There has to be some catch to this offer. Jonathan smirks at my hesitation.

"Come on, Little Beta," he says, his tone mocking. "Unless you have some secret medical skills we don't know about, your alpha needs help."

I grit my teeth and reluctantly agree to their offer. But before I can take a step towards the back room, Jonathan steps closer again and reaches out a hand to touch Rook. My protective instincts flare up and I grab Jonathan's wrist in a tight grip before he can make contact.

"Don't touch him," I growl out, tightening my hold on his wrist as his scent invades my senses. But instead of pulling away or retaliating like I expect him to, Jonathan just tilts his head slightly, as if studying me. Then he lets out another sharp chuckle and jerks his arm free from my grasp.

"You're feisty for a little beta," he comments with a smirk before walking towards the back room with Reed. Rook chuckles a little, then groans.