Chapter 4

Drake's POV

"Father..."

The word left my lips the moment I stepped into his office. I lowered my head instinctively.

The man seated behind that table wasn't merely my father. He was the Alpha King of the Rucker Pack.

The ruler of the most powerful werewolf pack in the country. His authority alone was enough to make even veteran Alphas lower their heads.

Without acknowledging my greeting, he continued signing the documents spread across his desk. The scratching of his fountain pen against the paper was the only sound in the room.

The silence was suffocating.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally placed the pen down and slowly lifted his head.

Those piercing golden eyes settled on me. "So..."

His deep voice broke the silence. "I heard you caused another disturbance at the training arena."

He leaned back in his chair, folding his hands together. "Tell me, Drake. What excuse are you bringing me this time?"

I clenched my fists behind my back. "I'm sorry, Father."

His expression didn't change. "I didn't ask for your apology, I asked for an explanation."

"I intended to use the opportunity to break their captain's legs before the championship," I admitted. "But things got out of hand."

Father's expression remained unreadable. "And you expect me to be pleased with that?"

"No, Father."

He rose from his chair and slowly walked around the desk. "I gave you a simple order."

He stopped in front of me. "I told you to cripple their chances of winning."

His eyes bore into mine. "I did not tell you to turn my arena into a circus."

I remained silent.

His voice grew colder. "If you wanted to break his legs, you should have done it where no one would trace it back to the Rucker Pack."

He gestured toward the door. "Instead, you started a brawl in front of your teammates and people from two different packs."

"You've handed our rivals something they'll happily gossip about for weeks."

He took another step closer. "Do you know what they see?"

I kept my head lowered. 

"They don't see the future Alpha King. They see an impulsive fool who lets his temper control him."

The words struck harder than any punch.

Father folded his hands behind his back. "Power is meaningless if you cannot control yourself. You are destined to rule every pack under our banner, Drake."

"Start acting like a king...not like a common street wolf."

"Yes, Father. I understand."

He regarded me in silence for several long seconds before speaking again. "If you truly understand then kneel."

Without hesitation, I lowered myself onto one knee.

"No." His cold gaze remained fixed on me. "Both knees."

I obeyed immediately.

Father walked toward the cabinet behind his desk and unlocked it with a small brass key. When he turned around again, a black leather whip rested in his hand.

My fingers tightened into fists. This wasn't the first time, it probably wouldn't be the last.

He stopped directly behind me. "Every action carries a consequence, Drake. You were taught that long before you learned how to shift."

"Yes, Father."

"You embarrassed the Rucker Pack."

"You allowed your emotions to control your judgment. And worst of all, you forgot what it means to be an Alpha King."

The first strike landed across my back.

Crack!

A searing pain tore through my body.

My muscles instinctively tensed beneath my shirt, but I refused to make a sound.

"One."

Father's voice remained emotionless.

The second strike came without warning.

Crack!

Fire spread across my back. Sweat immediately formed on my forehead.

"Two."

I gritted my teeth. An Alpha King does not cry nor does he beg. You must endure Drake. The third strike was even harder than the first two.

My breathing faltered for the briefest moment before I forced it back under control.

Father lowered the whip. "When you inherit this pack," He looked down at me. "Your enemies will not forgive your mistakes."

"If a few lashes are enough to break you then you were never worthy of wearing the Rucker name."

"I understand, Father."

My voice remained steady despite the burning pain spreading across my back.

He stared at me for another moment before placing the whip back on the desk. "Good. Now stand."

Slowly, I rose to my feet.

Every movement sent another wave of pain through my body, yet I kept my expression unchanged.

Father nodded once. "Remember today's lesson. The next time you lose control the punishment will be twice as severe."

____________

After leaving Father's office, I made my way toward my private locker room.

Every lash across my back hurt with each step I took, but years of discipline kept the pain from showing on my face.

As I rounded the corner, I stopped.

Leaning casually against the wall outside my room was that troublesome Omega. The moment he saw me, he straightened.

My brows furrowed. "What do you want, Rain?"

He frowned and uttered. "Rowan."

"What?"

"My name is Rowan." He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Not Rain."

"I don't care." I pulled out my keycard and unlocked the door.

"What do you want?"

He simply stared at me and sighed. "You really have a terrible personality, don't you?"

I slowly turned to look at him. "What did you just say?"

"I said..." He shrugged innocently. "...you have a terrible personality. And from what I saw earlier, you solve most of your problems with your fists."

He folded his arms across his chest. "If I didn't know you were the captain, I'd think you were the team's biggest troublemaker."

My eyes twitched. My wolf, however, wasn't angry.

He was amused. "I like this Omega Drake, we can settle for this while waiting for our mate."

Shut up.

Ignoring my wolf, I stared at the infuriating Omega before me. "You came all the way here just to insult me?"

His eyes widened. "What? No!"

"I actually came to check on your injuries." He lifted the medical kit in his hand. "I'm the team's physiotherapist now."

He offered an awkward smile. "Whether you like me or not you're officially my patient."

I had absolutely no idea how to respond. "I don't need any treatment."

I reached for the door handle. "We wolves heal on our own."

"Normally, yes."

I glanced back at him.

He scratched the back of his head before pointing at me. "But...that doesn't seem to be the case with you."

I frowned. "What are you talking about?"

He tilted his head, studying me with concentration. "Your posture."

"My posture?"

He nodded. "It's subtle, but you're favoring your back."

His emerald eyes narrowed slightly, as though piecing together a puzzle. "Every time you move your right shoulder, the muscles along your back tense."

"You've also been taking shorter strides since you came down the hallway."

He folded his arms. "That usually means you're trying to avoid stretching an injured muscle."

I remained silent.

"The fight may have looked rough..." Rowan continued. "...but from the bruises I saw, I don't think it was enough to make you move like that."

He looked me straight in the eye. "So...What really happened to your back, Captain?"

"You'd do well not to involve yourself in matters that don't concern you." The deep, authoritative voice cut through the hallway.

Rowan and I turned at the same time. Father stood several feet away, his hands clasped behind his back.