CHAPTER 15: The Beta's Pain
1062 Words
"Some wounds were too deep to see. But that didn't mean they weren't bleeding. And sometimes, the bravest thing you could do was let someone sit with you in the dark."
I woke to the sound of screaming.
It cut through the night like a blade, raw and primal, jolting me from sleep. I was on my feet before I was fully awake, my heart pounding, my instincts screaming danger.
But it wasn't an attack. It was Finn.
I found him in his shelter, thrashing against his furs, his face twisted in agony. He was still asleep, trapped in a nightmare that wouldn't let go.
"No—" he gasped, his voice cracking. "Please—don't—"
I rushed to his side, grabbing his shoulders. "Finn! Finn, wake up!"
His eyes flew open, wild and unseeing. He lashed out, his fist connecting with my shoulder, shoving me back.
"Finn, it's me!" I cried. "It's Raven! You're safe!"
He blinked, his gaze focusing on my face. His chest was heaving, his body trembling with the aftershocks of his nightmare.
"Raven?" His voice was hoarse, barely a whisper. "I—I'm sorry—I didn't mean—"
"It's okay." I knelt beside him, my voice soft. "You're safe. You're here. You're not there."
He stared at me, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. And then the words spilled out of him, raw and broken.
"I saw them. My old pack. They were—they were telling me I was worthless. That I was weak. That I'd always be weak."
I felt Ember stir in my chest, and before I could stop it, I heard Finn's thoughts.
...they were right... I am weak... I'm a burden to this pack... I'm a burden to Raven... she's just being kind... she doesn't really need me... she'll leave me too... everyone always leaves...
My heart cracked. His shame was a living thing, a wound that had never healed. He carried it with him every day, hiding it beneath smiles and steady hands.
"You're not weak," I said firmly. "You're one of the strongest people I know, Finn."
He shook his head, his voice bitter. "You don't know that. You don't know what I've done. What I've failed to do."
"Then tell me," I said softly. "Tell me what happened."
He was silent for a long moment, his gaze distant, lost in the past. Then, slowly, the words came.
"My pack—they said I wasn't strong enough to be a warrior. They said I was a burden." He laughed, a hollow, broken sound. "They were right. I was weak. I couldn't protect the ones I loved. I couldn't protect—"
He stopped, his voice breaking. I waited.
"My sister," he whispered. "Her name was Mira. She was ten years old, with messy brown hair and a laugh that lit up the whole pack. She used to follow me everywhere."
I felt my heart crack further. "Finn..."
"She trusted me," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "She looked at me with those big eyes and said, 'You'll protect me, right, Finn?' And I told her I would. I promised her I would."
He was silent for a long moment, his breathing ragged.
"I saw her in my dream," he said. "She was running, calling my name. I tried to reach her, but I couldn't move. I watched them take her. I watched them kill her. And I couldn't do anything."
I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him close. His body shook against mine, his sobs muffled against my shoulder. I felt his tears soak through my tunic, felt the tremor in his hands as he clung to me.
"It wasn't your fault," I whispered. "You were just a pup, Finn. There was nothing you could have done."
"I should have—"
"There was nothing you could have done," I repeated. "You did your best. And I know—I know—she would be so proud of you."
He sobbed against my shoulder, his body shaking with grief. "I miss her, Raven. I miss her so much."
I held him tighter, my own tears falling. "I know. I know, Finn. And I'm not going anywhere. I'm here. I'm always going to be here."
We stayed like that for a long time, wrapped in each other's grief. The fire crackled softly, casting shadows on the walls of the shelter. The night was quiet, but our pain filled the silence.
Slowly, his breathing steadied. The tension in his shoulders eased. He leaned into me, his head resting on my shoulder, and for the first time that night, he was still.
When Finn finally pulled back, his eyes were red, but something had shifted in his gaze. A small crack in the wall he'd built around his heart.
"Thank you," he whispered. "For staying."
"Always," I said softly. "That's what family does."
He managed a weak smile. "I'm sorry. For waking you. For—"
"Don't." I met his gaze. "Don't apologize. You needed me. And I was there. That's all that matters."
He nodded, wiping his eyes. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Raven."
"You don't have to find out." I squeezed his hand. "Because I'm not going anywhere."
I sat with him as the fire died down, my hand resting on his back. He didn't speak. He didn't need to. The silence said everything.
That night, I sat by the fire, thinking about Finn's pain. He carried so much guilt, so much shame. And he'd been carrying it alone for so long.
I thought about my own nights of screaming. The nights when I woke up alone, gasping, convinced I was still in Damon's house. Finn wasn't alone anymore. And neither was I.
I thought about how hard he worked to be a good Beta. How he pushed himself to prove he was worthy. He already was. His pain made him strong. His compassion made him a leader. He was everything the Ember Pack needed.
He needed you, Ember said softly. And you were there.
"I just held him," I said. "I just listened."
That's what he needed most.
I looked up at the stars, a new determination settling in my chest. I couldn't fix Finn's pain. But I could be there for him.
And that would have to be enough.
- Writer
