The Boy Who Cried Wolf

Always On My Mind

"I don't have time to be happy." Sampson spat bitterly. "When Elijah comes back he can toss me from the pack and not even face repercussions. I have to be better by the time he get's back. Make a showing for myself."

"You're faster than him already."

"But he's stronger than me. Running away from him won't get me anywhere. Not anywhere I haven't been before." 

"Well I won't let him throw you out," Issac asserted with his arms crossed. "How's about that?"

"You're a Delta wolf. He won't listen to you." Sampson argued. Delta wolves were third in command in packs, but Elijah wasn't one to take counsel, and he'd never liked Issac. 

"You and I both know this pack ought to be yours." 

Sampson said nothing. He did think that, of course. To take over the pack when the father died ought to be the birthright of a firstborn and his nature had stolen that from him. He wasn't born to lead, and therefore all he could ever do was disappoint his father. All Sampson's life he was the failure of a first shot before his father finally got the precious Alpha he'd always wanted.

"Doesn't matter. Elijah's coming back with a mate, so why bother."

"You think your brother can find somebody to put up with him? Besides, a mate is just a setback anyway. One day you'll be the leader of this pack. You've got more strength in you than you know." Issac prodded. "Come on, sourpuss. Let's get some breakfast in you." 

Issac reached out his hard, and Sampson clasped his own and roughly hoisted himself up, the muscles in his arms flexing as he did so. 

He was athletic, and his body showed his might. Sampson's arms were large and muscular, flexing and taught as he moved. The sleeves of his green tee shirt were barely able to contain his arms and his thighs spilled out beneath his grey running shorts. Exercise in human form was paying off for him, but Alpha's were naturally stronger so it would never be enough to take on Elijah. 

Sampson didn't ask to be an Omega, it wasn't like he wanted to be one. It was something out of his control, and yet their father had always resented him for it. Sampson's father could never let him forget that he was the largest failure of the man's life. And after everything it was hard for Sampson to admit, but he was glad his father was dead.

He did mourn at the funeral, but not the loving father he had, but for the man his father could have and should have been. He mourned not for his father, but for the father he never got to have.

All his life he'd been jealous of his brother, he'd been disrespected by the pack, and humiliated by a father who constantly used Elijah as an excuse to push him down. For now Sampson was free and able to express himself. He wasn't stifled anymore.

But it was temporary, he reminded himself. Soon Elijah will return, bringing with him a mate, and ascend to leadership in the pack. 

Sampson could hardly stand it. He didn't want to leave, he would never trust Elijah with his mother and the rest of his pack mates, but it was going to get ten times more difficult once Elijah was Alpha. He'd hoped and tried to convince himself that this day would never come, but it did. That was the one true sadness he had for the death of his father. 

Issac led Sampson through the courtyard of the pack house, past the ivy covered stone artillery buildings, and into what had once been the soldiers main dining hall that was located to the left of he center building. The structure was tall and imposing with slits for windows and spots for guns of defense on the roof. Sampson liked that the soldiers dining hall was still the wolves dining hall, it was like the hall remained for a different kind of soldier.