Chapter 2

Oliver's POV

"What is this? Am I hearing that I won't lead this pack unless I get a Luna?" 

My voice was edged with frustration as I stared at my father, barely able to contain my annoyance.  

"You heard well, son," he replied nonchalantly, pouring himself another shot of brandy as if this conversation didn’t carry the weight of my future.  

Could he be any more insensitive?  

He knew how much my failed relationship with Clara had gutted me. Yet here he was, demanding that I throw myself into another situation that could potentially destroy me again.  

"But you already know what I went through the last time I had one," I said, my voice quieter now, tinged with desperation as I tried to appeal to whatever sympathy he might have left.  

"For crying out loud, not every female werewolf out there is like your ex," he snapped, his tone cutting through me like a blade.  

My frustration boiled over. "How many times are we going to have this conversation, Dad?"  

"As long as you remain thick-headed and inflexible," he shot back without missing a beat, downing the brandy in one sharp gulp.  

The heat of anger and helplessness churned in my chest. I clenched my fists, staring at him as he sauntered over to his chair, completely unfazed by the turmoil he was dragging me through.  

"Look," he began again, his tone softening slightly, though it did little to dull the sting of his words. "It's okay to be cautious after what happened with Clara, but just as there are bad mates, there are good ones too. You can't give up on the idea of a mate because of one bad experience."

I scoffed internally. Clara’s betrayal wasn’t just a bad experience—it was a gaping wound I had barely managed to patch up. His casual dismissal of my pain felt like salt rubbed into an already tender scar.  

"But Dad…."  

"Enough!" His voice thundered through the room, cutting off my plea. His piercing gaze pinned me in place, and for a moment, I felt like a child being scolded again.  

"I have made my decision, and it's final. If you want my position, then you must do as I say." 

His words hit like a physical blow. I froze, my mind racing for a way to argue, to convince him that what he was asking of me was too much. But his expression left no room for negotiation.  

My stomach twisted with resentment and helplessness as his gaze bore into me. Did he not care about my pain? Did my feelings mean so little to him?  

The tension in the room was cut by the sound of hurried footsteps, and moments later, Drake, my father’s beta, burst through the door.  

"Everything okay here? I could practically hear your voices from my station outside," he said, glancing between us.  

For the first time in the heated exchange, a flicker of hope sparked in me. Maybe Drake could reason with him. Maybe he could help me make my father see sense.  

"We're fine," my father said dismissively. "I was just explaining to Oliver that my decision is final. No mate, no leadership."

Drake raised an eyebrow, his face a mixture of amusement and sympathy. "From the look of things, he still doesn't seem convinced." 

I wanted to yell, Of course, I’m not convinced! But I bit back the words, unwilling to show just how much my father’s stubbornness was getting to me.  

"That’s no business of mine," my father continued, his voice cold and unyielding. "He either accepts my decision or forfeits his right to lead this pack. No son of mine will take my place without a Luna by his side." 

I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to yell or argue. It was useless. The man had made up his mind, and no amount of reasoning would change it.  

Drake sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Well, Oliver, you heard him. When he sets his heart on something, there’s no changing his mind. I suggest you listen to him."

I stared at Drake, a flicker of betrayal running through me. If even he wouldn’t stand up for me, what was the point?  

Without another word, I turned on my heel and stormed out of the bar, each step fueled by the rising tide of anger and frustration threatening to overwhelm me.  

******

Outside, the cold night air hit my face, doing little to cool the fire burning within me. I needed to get away, to clear my head, to let out this fury that my father had stirred up.  

I stripped off my clothes quickly, not caring who might be watching, and let my wolf take over. The transformation was painful, but I welcomed the distraction. The moment it was complete, I took off, the world blurring around me as I raced through the woods.  

The cool wind whipped through my fur, and with each stride, the tension in my chest began to ease. I ran without purpose, without direction, until a scent hit my nose, sharp and unfamiliar.  

I skidded to a halt, my ears pricking as I followed the trail. The scent led me to a figure sprawled on the forest floor. Shifting back to my human form, I approached cautiously.  

It was a woman.  

Her chest rose and fell faintly, the only sign that she was still alive. Her face was pale, her features soft, and a pang of worry tightened my gut.  

What was she doing here, all alone and unconscious?  

I crouched beside her, hesitating. She didn’t stir as I tapped her shoulder, nor did she respond when I checked her pulse. It was faint but steady.  

She was a werewolf, that much was clear. But why hadn’t she noticed me? Was she injured?  

I debated leaving her. Taking her back with me would complicate things. But leaving her here, defenseless and vulnerable, went against every instinct I had as an alpha.  

With a resigned sigh, I gently lifted her into my arms, her fragile form surprisingly light. Whatever trouble had brought her here would have to wait.  

For now, I had to get her somewhere safe.