Chapter Text
Tyler was such a sweet pup during his childhood.
Even spending most of his days alone while his father and brothers worked in the mines, and his mother and sister were off at her seamstress shop, Tyler had not grown bored.
No, he had his imagination.
He dreamed of a better life for his family. One where they didn’t have to worry about if they’d have food on the table, or if their house would collapse when the next tornado came through.
No late nights listening to his mother cry through their thin walls, of their farther breaking down with her when they realized that they didn’t have enough money to buy their pups new clothes for school nor supplies.
Tyler imagined that they would be happy one day.
They’d live in a huge six bedroom house, with three bathrooms and a huge garden. His mother loved her tomatoes, after all, and he’d want to give her enough space to be able to plant as much as her heart desired.
They’d have an in ground pool, stretching just as the house was wide. His little sister, Natalie, would have the time of her life swimming in clear water instead of the murky lake behind their two bedroom cabin.
A basketball court for him and his three brothers. His eldest brother, Austin, was amazing at it. He knew that if he had the chance to, he’d be in the all-stars one day. Tyler would be sitting in the crowd cheering for him then.
A room with great acoustics, filled with all kinds of instruments for Randy and Devin. The floor would be shiny, wood polished to a t instead of the broken hardwood they had in the cabin. It would be big enough to where his family could dance freely as him and his brothers sung them a song.
He imagined how happy their faces would have been.
His father wouldn’t ache, his hands would be clear of soot and coal. His back would heal, he wouldn’t cough every morning when he woke up. He’d bring their mother into a slow dance, as she had always wanted. A pretty ballgown that she often imagined herself in, rich in fabric and doused in diamonds.
But that was just it. It was his imagination.
Tyler was unlike anyone else from the mountains. He—… well, he was a hybrid. He remembered the story his mother had told him of his birth. How he had came out with two fuzzy little ears and a tail to match. How the doctors were scared to tell her that her son wasn’t normal.
His father had thought she had cheated on him. But looking back at old family photos, he realized that his great-great grandfather was a hybrid. It had somehow skipped three generations, and the gene had manifested into their youngest son.
He got bullied when he was growing up for it. So much that his mother tried to make it better for him, bought him a hat and forced him to wear it even if his sensitive ears hurt. She’d pin the fluffy appendage on his lower back to the inside of a worn t-shirt that was too big for him, effectively trapping it to where no one would see.
Tyler did not want to hide. He just wanted to be himself. He wanted to be useful to his family instead of being the burden that got them chastised.
So, at eighteen, he had made up his mind.
“I am going to the military.”
His father dropped his fork on the fine china they had been gifted from his mother, and the omega sitting across from him almost choked on the stew she had spent all afternoon preparing.
“You can’t!”
His mother tried to plead with him, but Tyler had already made up his mind. He did not want to work in the mines all his lives like his father and brothers. He wanted to leave, only to come back with something that would aid their troubles.
“Mama, it’s the best decision for us,” He was firm in his words, but that didn’t make his voice tremble any less. “They’ll pay for my training. I’ll be a therapy hybrid for vets and active military. I’ll get a bigger check than dad, Austin, Randy, and Devin combined-.”
His father had been silent the whole time.
Even though his scent broadcasted his anger, the alpha didn’t argue with him. “Fine. You’re grown, you can make your own decisions.” Tyler did not want to leave his family, but this was what he had to do.
He wished he would have stayed.
The first pack he had been assigned to had scared him for life. It was something that would never heal. A trauma that would always resurface and grow to haunt him.
But his mother had grown sick. His father couldn’t work in the mines anymore. They were relying on his check from the military.
So, he stayed. He was cleared to work again after getting released from the hospital, with the exception that he had to attend therapy himself.
“Tell me, Tyler,” Doctor Lang sat across from him, one leg crossed over the other as her clipboard rested in her lap. “Do you fantasize a lot?” The beta held a soft smile, encouraging him to open up.
Even after five sessions, the alpha had yet to get to the root of his trauma. He had repressed most of it.
“Of course I do,” Tyler played with the end of his tail, running his fingers through the thick black and tan fur. “Doesn’t everyone?”
Doctor Lang pursed her lips together in a thin line, but the beta’s scent didn’t change from the comforting lilac he was slowly growing use to. “About what, exactly? Can you tell me your most recent fantasy?”
Death.
Not of himself, but of his pack.
He imagined the blood that would surround them, of their pale skin and their faces frozen in terror. They had wronged him. It would be a graceful death for them, even if they deserved more.
They had hurt him. They had taken away his autonomy.
They deserved to have their scent glands torn open like they had done to him.
Tyler’s eye twitched ever so slightly, the thought had brought a wide smile upon his face despite knowing he needed to suppress it.
Doctor Lang had caught his muted scent during sweeter, indicating he was happy at whatever he imagined. She was encouraging him to tell her.
“A pack.” Tyler cleared his throat, sitting up straighter in the comfortable leather chair. “One that is loving, caring. I can take care of them, and they’ll take care of me.” It wasn’t all a lie, that part had been true.
He missed his family so much. He wanted a pack like his familial one.
Close-knit, irreparable, filled with happiness and love.
Not like his last one.
Doctor Lang had that soft smile on her face again, jotting something down before looking up at the alpha again. “I know it’s a little too soon, but the General has recommended a pack to me.” Tyler tensed, his fingernails digging into his tail to the point it started to hurt.
“He has given me the reassurance that they are good. They just need a little help, to find their… stability again.”
Tyler weighed the option in his mind. What if they were just like his last pack? He had heard the same words come from Doctor Lang’s mouth, had heard General Childers’ comforting words that he would be in good hands before he was given over to a literal pack from hell.
And yet, Tyler could not find himself to refuse.
If he held himself back forever, he would go nowhere. He would never level up enough to get the pay he needed for his family.
“I’ll take it.”
Tyler stared blankly out the window of the chopper, and yet his swiveling ears gave away how nervous he was. If his muted scent of rosewood and cardamom souring didn’t give it away first. He was terrified that this pack would treat him like the last, and yet he still had a little hope behind his stoic expression.
“Landing in 1!”
He nearly jumped out of his own skin when the pilot’s voice came through the headset, his tail thumping once in irritation on the seats. General Childers laughed from beside him, clapping him once on the back. “Relax, kid. Start getting ready to meet your new pack.” He could tell General Childers wasn’t too keen on letting him go back so soon, but he was sure about this Task Force.
John Price was an old friend of his, an omega who took care of his pack like his family. And despite his own trauma, he still held strong to carry the burdens his mates suffered. But he was only a man. Tyler would be able to help them, Childers knew he could.
The German Shepherd hybrid’s hands shook as he clutched tight to his backpack, filled with memories and little clothing. He tried to stable himself as he was escorted off the chopper and the tarmac, squaring his shoulders to appear stronger than he was.
He wasn’t a typical alpha, John noticed. He was a little shorter than Johnny, and had a lean frame and small shoulders. His face still held a little baby fat, no wrinkles whatsoever— John was jealous of his youth. He looked nothing more than a confused pup.
John didn’t want to accept a therapy hybrid at first when Laswell had recommended the company to him.
He could handle his pack just fine, thank you.
But then, Simon’s night terrors had gotten worse— more real, more paralyzing. And John had no choice but to call Doctor Lang.
Tyler’s file he had been given wasn’t full of much information. A pictured dated four years back, taken when he was twenty. It had one pack experience listed, but that was all besides a statement that he had done his job well and the pack alpha had been pleased.
He was twenty-four now, and barely looked like his picture. He wasn’t a smiling boy anymore, he had been changed by something John had the urge to figure out. But his curiosity could be saved for later.
John extended his hand when the baby alpha got close enough to his pack, a soft smile on his face and reeling in his scent so it didn’t seem so intimidating.
“Tyler, welcome to London.”