A Spitfire's Fury

CHAPTER ONE- You're Not Important

"Karen, we recently have been told that you have received yet another detention" My father said, looking up from his perfectly cooked medium rare steak. 

"That's great" I replied, spearing a piece of broccoli and chewing it. Father paused his fork immediately and flicked his now angry eyes to me. He sat back and put his fork down, body tensed with repressed rage. My daddy was like that- easy to anger, even easier to piss off. 

"Do you understand how you're making me- us look?" 

I sighed and pushed my plate forward, ignoring the hard look from my mother. "Yes. I do. But do you see this right here?" I waved my finger around my outstretched empty hand. Father furrowed his brows and nodded, confused. 

"That's the amount of fucks I give" 

A roar was heard throughout the Jay house that night- one that our furry neighbours would describe as one of 'intense exasperation and anger all wrapped up in a ball of frightening yet impressive vocal heights.' Lyle, my casual partner in crime and son of pack Betas would tell me so later.

My brother, Moses, held back a snort and instead coughed, holding out a hand underneath the table for me to high five. Pissing off my father was one of the most rewarding things to do-something he didn't agree with at all. 

"Karen, please, at least don't use profanity. It's unbecoming" My mother tutted, blonde hair twisted perfectly into a chignon bun that exuded more snobbery than elegance. I rolled my eyes and waited for the lecture that was bound to come. 

"You are so infuriating" Father growled, fists clenched on the mahogany table. "You need to stop acting out in the rebellious, attention seeking phase and start being the woman that your mother and I want you to be" 

The fifties called, they want their ideals back. "So a bored, dull, beige dressed fish finger who only has interests in breeding and unseasoned chicken?" A barely suppressed chortle erupted next to me, on my father pointed a very icy glare to. He sighed, running a hand through his thick, black hair and trying to calm the frustration that was so plain on his face. 

"You have an obligation as the daughter of the Alpha to be elegant-"

I waved a hand, "yes, yes, yes, Elegant, composed, the epitome of  a distinguished Alpha" That had been drilled into me ever since I was born. Sometimes I wondered if I was actually their child or just a construct that was made to fulfill familial duty. 

"I'm me Grayson. And no matter how much you try to write my personality off as a phase, I'm always going to be me." I stood and suppressed the urge I had to growl. "But you wouldn't even know what that looks like would you?" 

And just like every other time, my father sat in silence and just let me walk out, alone. 

_______________

The night was warmer than most, and I wandered the streets with my hands nestled deeply in my jean pockets. These streets had become friends ever since I started getting in trouble from the young age of nine and was able to actually evade the constant lecturing of my parents. It was actually the place where I met Lyle- the ever reserved and quiet son of Beta Miles. Beta Miles was by far one of the only people I could actually stand in this misogynistic clan of a pack. 

He treated his mate like they should be- as an equal. Beta Morgan was a calm woman, the gentle breeze to her mate's hurricane. When I was sixteen I had spent most of my time at their house until my father banned me from their house- resenting the 'ideas' that were being put into my head. 

"Escaped again?" A murmur sounded from behind me, and I turned quickly, already smiling before I saw the familiar green eyes of Lyle Andrews. "Yeah, you know the drill". He fell into step next to me, an ease to the air that I never had at home.