Page 33 of Just a Beta (Betas in Waiting)
Her father spoke, and the guys talked softly, with Alderna adding her opinion of things.Even the assistants, who might be some sort of cousins, spoke.Em floated in a calm world and had to admit she liked it.Safety was new, and she felt addiction loom.
Her father, who was nearby, said, “Emhara, I have something for you.”
She sat up and smiled sleepily.Echel inhaled sharply and stroked her cheek.“Hey, Emhara.Time to communicate.”
She nodded and gave him a thumbs-up.“Hey, Father.”
“Why don’t you call me Dad like Mateo does?”
“Oh, your wife would slap me across the face when I did, so I stopped.Father is appropriate, but she still made a face when I said it.”
“But, you called me Dad until you were four...oh no.”
“I am thick-skinned.A normal slap doesn’t show up right away.Even when I was three.From what I remember, I tried to sneak it in when she wasn’t there, but then she insisted that Ihelp her in the kitchenafter that.”
“But, she doesn’t cook.”
“I know.”She smiled.“Was that the only question?”
“No.I got you some art supplies.”
She shot out of Echel’s lap and looked around.“Where?”
He pointed toward a dining room table, and she grinned.“Thank you, Father.”
He laughed softly as she grabbed the sketchpad and used her teeth to score the plastic around the charcoal and coloured pencils.She asked as she got ready, “What should I draw?”
Her father smiled.“Why not a portrait of me?”
She paused.“You know how I see you.”
“Yes.I have always been curious.He has no interest in mirrors.”
She nodded and said, “Can you get me more charcoal?You are really dark.”
She glanced at him, flipped to a clear page, and got to work.
* * * *
Samsor watched Emharaas she chortled and rubbed as she created a tarantula wearing a suit that had amazing realism.“How did you know?”
“I had some of my men enter her pack house.There were no materials for her to draw or sketch, and that used to be how she processed the world.They only allowed her to do bookwork online.No creative outlet at all.”
She spoke as she was muttering and rubbing at the paper.“I drew Augusta in the pack, and I used their greedy faces.They didn’t like it, so they didn’t let me draw again under their roof.”
The image was coming together with surprising speed, and it was terrifying.
She chuckled and said, “Father is easy.He’s just black and brown with dark blue accents.All of his eyes are super shiny, though.The mandibles are hard, but they are so fuzzy.”
She kept working and humming, getting charcoal all over her hands, forearms, and palms.The longer sleeves on her dress were getting the worst of it.
Samsor asked softly, “She’s an artist?”
Her father nodded.“It manifested when she reached for her first crayon, and it never stopped.”
“Why did you stop visiting her?”
“She stopped coming when Mateo turned eighteen.There were things he needed to learn, and she was in the way.I always thought I would see her at the next event, but there was never a next event, and then she disappeared into that pack.”
