Book One: Second Chance

Chapter Fifteen: Sympathy

Derek’s P.O.V

Being the son of the Alpha has its advantages like I get to have more free time than others. But it comes with responsibilities. I have to want to train to be the next Alpha so I follow my father around four days a week absorbing everything he does. Then at the end of the day I talk to him about the whole thing and the different decisions I would have made concerning a few things.

But being son to the Alpha also has its disadvantages; dad gets me to run round like a messenger boy at times when he wants to pass stuff to different people in the Pack. I’m alright with that I means I get to know the people I will be leading better. But at times like now I wish we had a P.A system so we can just broadcast the message across the whole camp.

God dad. Why couldn’t you ask someone else to be your messenger today… I think as I move across the pathway to the Pack House, where most of the younger generations live. Usually teenagers who want their own space, but me and the our Beta’s son’s cause we’re learning for our positions.

Although I haven’t seen or heard of Claude in a while. Wonder what’s happened to him, though his parents say he’s gone out of town for a while. I’m not quite sure if I believe that. But even Erick his twin doesn’t know exactly where he really is.

Claude and Erick are older than me by about three years. But we’re still really close.

I walk through the front door of the Pack House and stare around at the clean and tidy foyer, living room and kitchen. For some reason I thought the place would be trashed. Going over to the Left Wing door I carefully open is and peer down the corridor knowing that everyone will still be asleep because of how early it is.

Taking in a breath I call out. “Ladies. We’re having a Pack Meeting tomorrow so please make sure you all attend and are on time. It’s at the usual time, in the usual place.” I start to close the door as I hear people shuffling around. “Don’t be late.” I call out then shut the door.

Moving over to the Right Wing door I heave it open and stare down the corridor as I take in the open doors with guys sleeping half in and out of rooms, others sprawled on the floor in the middle of the corridor.

Laughing lightly I take in a deep breath as I start my message. “Good morning boys of The Silver Eyes Pack.” I watch in satisfaction as some twitch from being woken, while others groan. “I’m here to inform you all that there will be a Pack Meeting tomorrow.” People start to drag themselves up off the floor turning to look at me then doing a double take as they realise who it is standing in there doorway. “So I’ll see you all bright eyed and bushy tailed tomorrow in the usual place at the normal time.” I start to turn. “Oh and don’t be late.”

Walking out of the Pack House I fail at hiding my smile as I pass the message to other pack members that I pass on my way through camp. They’ll pass the message on so I don’t have to worry about going door to door. Which is a huge relief because that would suck.

Pack life isn’t that bad, but after the kidnapping of one of the children my father increased the Guard number patrolling at any one time. It doesn’t matter if it is day or night. I don’t really know which family it is, I do know that the older brother was labelled the Omega because of the incident. I feel sorry for the guy even though I’ve never actually met him. I have seen him around.

His body carries lots of scars to prove what has been happening to him since he was labelled, he doesn’t live in a house anymore his parents kicked him out because they blame him for what happened. Instead he lives on the edge of camp in a tent. Having to hunt each day to survive.

I stop walking and stare past the people milling around, watching the tent that sits right at the edge of the forest. Waiting to see if I can see the boy who calls it home, the front flap opens and a tall well-built boy with light brown hair steps out. He clutches his side as he moves quietly towards the forest. I glance down at his side my eyes catching the beads of red oozing between his fingers from new wounds.