“Beta Grey,” I whisper, simultaneously feeling relieved and horrified.
Relieved, because if he was here, that meant the human trafficker who had been waiting to violate me had been removed from the room, and given the blood in his hands, probably removed from life altogether.
Horrified, because this was the second of the man whose son tried to murder me after he told him to ‘take care of me.’ That meant that he was not just here to save me but to bring me back.
Or make sure that I won’t be a problem to the Alphas.
Forever.
The Beta regards me with a perfectly solemn face. He is tall and broad-shouldered, bald with a scar running through his right temple. It had come from a graze from a silver bullet, as I’ve heard, that’s why it had not healed into smooth skin. The burn of the bullet
