Chapter 5- A Red Birthday pt 1

[CW- Implied emotional abuse, neglect, and bullying. References to a parent with alcoholism. Please take care of yourself while reading.]

“You little shit,” Alpha Claymore growled down at Archer. The large man with scars over his eye and torso would be an intimidating sight on any normal day. Today was a little less normal for the pack. It was meant to be Ariadne’s fifteenth birthday. Her parents had spent the afternoon arranging the main hall of the pack house and filling it with colourful decorations.

Now, all those decorations were dripping red paint.

“Why are you always blaming me?” Archer asked, folding his arms. Being stubbornly defiant would have been much easier if his dungarees weren’t stained red and his fingernails didn’t have red underneath them.

“Because you’re always causing shit,” Alpha Claymore sighed. “Look, you’ve got two options. Either clean up the room and put it back to how it was before Ariadne sees it, or you’re banned from training for two weeks.”

“Two weeks?!” Archer shouted. “That’s not fair!”

“Neither is what you’re doing to Ariadne,” Alpha Claymore glared. “So get scrubbing or-”

Thump

Ariadne was standing at the door, her eyes wide with fear and apprehension. On the ground was a box of supplies she’d dropped.

“It’s not blood!” Alpha Claymore shouted as he ran over to Ariadne. She swallowed hard.

“I-I-” she stuttered, her voice barely a whisper.

Alpha Claymore turned her around and started pushing her out of the hall. He looked over his shoulder and glared at Archer.

“Two weeks,” he hissed before the large doors closed on Archer.

For a moment, the hall was silent.

Then, Archer screamed and kicked one of the chairs. It fell backward and skidded across the floor of the hall, scratching the polished wood.

Next, he kicked the tower of presents that had been made, scattering them onto the floor.

Then he pushed over a large table, sending cutlery and plates flying across the room.

He breathed heavily in the middle of the chaos, wet paint still dripping from one of the banners.

“Why does she get everything?!” Archer screamed into the empty room. “Just because her mother lost a pup?!”

He slumped onto the floor and pulled his knees to his chest. He was suddenly exhausted and upset. To him, it was bullshit. Everyone doted on Ariadne, and he didn’t understand why. He wanted some of that. He wanted to be cared for. His dad was a pack warrior and usually out hunting for food or driving away monsters. His mother was busy with her friends or drinking until she fell asleep. Nobody cared that he was on his own.

The door creaked open, and he heard someone walk inside. He didn’t stand up. The door closed again.

Eli stepped in front of him, hands on their hips.

“Want help cleaning up?” Eli asked.

“No.” Archer grumbled.

“You’ll get in more trouble if you just sit here,” Eli said.

“I don’t care!” Archer burst. Eli flinched. Archer’s chest ached, but he didn’t know how to say sorry yet. It wasn’t a skill he had developed at fourteen.

“You’re acting like a toddler,” Mikael said from behind him.

“I don’t care,” Archer said, putting his head on his knees.

After a moment of quiet, he heard Mikael and Eli moving things around. He looked up. Mikael was picking up the table, and Eli was using his magic to move the presents back into place, directing them with his hands.

“Why are you doing that?” Archer grumbled.

“I’m four foot nine, you expect me to be able to put everything back by hand?” Eli asked.

“No, not- ARGH!” Archer stood up. “Why are you two fixing it?”

“Because the alpha seems actually really pissed at you?” Mikael offered.

“He’s already going to stop me from going to training for two weeks…” Archer huffed.

“Do you want him to extend it to a month when he sees you broke all this?” Eli asked. Archer paled at the idea. He immediately got down and started picking up the broken pieces of plates and silverware.

About thirty minutes later, the hall was almost back to normal, aside from the red stains on the floor that needed more knowledge than two thirteen-year-olds and a fourteen-year-old had between them.

“That’s better at least…” Eli said, looking around.

“Yeah,” Mikael sighed. “I can go ask Mikas' dad if he knows how to clean this up?”

“Maybe, but-” Archer froze. His ring finger suddenly felt hot. Like, burning hot. He looked down, and a red string was forming on it, tied like a ring.

“No way…” he whispered. Mikael and Eli looked confused.

“What’s up?” Eli asked.

“My hand… My finger… The… I… A mate string…” Archer whispered. The other two gasped, ran over, and looked at his hand.

“I don’t see it,” Mikael said.

“Obviously, only he will see it! But feel his hand, the finger is actually hot!” Eli cried out.

“No way!” Mikael gasped and grabbed Archer’s hand. “IT IS! But you’re only fourteen…?”

“If his mate is a bit older, and they’re having their first transformation, then it still works,” Eli beamed.

“I… I have to go find them…” Archer said. His friends nodded.

“Go!”