02

“Why did you mark her?” Ragnar asked immediately Derek entered the room. He was the Alpha of the Scorpion Zeal pack and also a Father to Derek.

Ragnar was a tall, imposing figure, with broad shoulders and a thick beard. He was dressed in a fine silk robe, with gold embroidery and jewels adorning his cuffs and collar.

His chambers were opulent and imposing, befitting of his status as the leader of the werewolf clan. The room was large and spacious, with high ceilings and ornate mouldings. The walls were covered in tapestries, each one telling the story of a great battle or heroic feat.

The floor was covered in a thick, plush carpet that felt soft underfoot. In the centre of the room, there was a large four-poster bed, with silk sheets and a velvet canopy. The bed was adorned with gold and silver embroidery, and the pillows were plump and inviting.

In one corner of the room, there was a small sitting area, with a comfortable sofa and several chairs arranged around a low table. The furniture was upholstered in rich fabrics, with intricate designs and patterns.

Opposite the sitting area, there was a large fireplace, with a roaring fire burning brightly in the hearth. Above the fireplace, there was a large oil painting, depicting Ragnar in his prime, dressed in battle armour and wielding a mighty sword.

On either side of the fireplace, there were tall bookshelves, filled with leather-bound tomes and ancient manuscripts. The books were arranged in neat rows, and the spines glimmered in the firelight.

In one corner of the room, there was a large wooden desk, with piles of papers and documents stacked neatly on top. The desk was adorned with a few trinkets and knick-knacks, including a silver inkwell and a quill pen.

In all, the room had a grand, almost regal feel to it. Every surface was adorned with rich fabrics, ornate carvings, and valuable objects. It was a space that spoke to power and influence, and it was clear that Ragnar was a man who knew how to wield both.

Ragnar's rage was palpable. "What have you done, Derek?" he spat. "Do you not realize the consequences of your actions?"

Ragnar's eyes fumed with anger, his fists clenched as he gritted his teeth.

“I told...” he continued, pointing his big middle finger to Derek, “—you not—to mark her. It was meant to be just a party for heaven's sake!”

“Father, this is just to gain her trust.” Derek replied with a slight bow to show his respect.

“How long would it take you to just get an antidote from a pup? Tell me, how long?!” Ragnar questioned with a snarl, forcing his claws back into his skin.

“The relationship between our pack and their pack is making everything hard for me, father. You have been a very notorious man. You started most of the wars. You defeated a lot of packs and took over their pups. Your sudden kindness came as a shock to everybody. I had to do that to show her I was different, unlike the rest.” Derek explained.

Alpha Ragnar gritted his teeth. He hated the word, kindness. He hated the fact that he had to pretend. He hated the fact that he had to apologize to the Alpha King at the field in the presence of everybody. He clenched his fists. He was going to make the Alpha king pay for it. The antidote was his first priority, at the moment. His life depended on it, and so did his pack.

Alpha Ragnar gained his power and respect from defeating a lot of packs. Ranging from attacking all packs, kidnapping pups, to negotiation with rogues and empowering them, he had earned a name for himself. He was an unkind man who would not settle for less. He had tried to fight the Blood Moon pack once but got defeated.

"Why do you always fail to redeem yourself as my blood? Why?”

Derek felt his father's rage burn his skin. “I did it for our plan to go as well as we…”

"Off with your mouth, boy,” Ragnar yelled, flinging a golden cup that was at his reach and the clanging noise was enough of a discomforting distraction.

Ragnar's eyes narrowed, "You do not understand the gravity of the situation," he said. "Until the disease wipes us out? Is that your plan?”

“No, father.” Derek replied, his voice getting lower.

He clenched his fists. The antidote belonged to the Blood Moon pack which the Alpha king would not let go of without a fight, but Derek was ready to give it his all. They had tried to get the antidote by force, declaring wars but they were no match for the Alpha king. Their joy knew no bounds when the moon goddess mated him with the daughter of the Alpha king. Now, it was his turn to make use of the opportunity.

“Your mother; your sister, Fel,” Ragnar continued. “Is this how you would keep watching?”

Ragnar's heart was filled with emotions, but he was bent on not showing it. He was the leader of the pack. He had to be strong for his pack. Derek clenched his fists again, this time, letting his claws sink into his palm.

“Even if you have to kill her, do it, Derek. Just get the antidote.” He instructed as he let the liquid flow freely out his eyes.

Derek knelt down in front of his father, bowing his head in submission. "I know I acted rashly, father. I should have consulted with you before marking Aurora. But I can make it right. I can get the information we need from her pack, no matter the cost."

Ragnar leaned back in his chair, studying his son with a critical eye. "You do know our lives and honour depend on this, right?" Ragnar growled lowly.

"I know," Derek replied, his voice steady. "But I'll do whatever it takes to get that information. I'll deceive Aurora if I have to. I'll pretend to care for her, to love her. I'll make her believe I'm on her side. And then I'll take what we need and leave her behind…I mean…end her life—father."

Ragnar studied Derek for a long moment, his expression inscrutable. Finally, he spoke. "You have a lot to learn, son. But I'll give you this chance to prove yourself. Bring me the information we need, and you'll have my trust once again."

Derek nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. He had always wanted to prove himself to his father, to show that he was worthy of his respect and admiration. And now, he had better not slip up this time.

As he left the royal arena and made his way into the woods, he couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. His conversation with his father had left him feeling conflicted and guilty, and the weight of his actions was starting to bear down on him.

The woods were thick with trees, their branches reaching up to the sky and casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. The ground was soft and springy beneath Derek's feet, and he could hear the sound of his own footsteps echoing through the trees.

The air was cool and crisp, and he could smell the scent of pine needles and damp earth. It was a peaceful and serene environment, but Derek found himself unable to fully appreciate it. His mind was consumed with thoughts of Aurora, and the deception he would soon have to inflict upon her.

As he walked deeper into the woods, the sounds of nature surrounded him. He could hear the distant call of a bird, the rustling of leaves as a gentle breeze blew through the trees. The only other sounds were the ones he made himself, the crunching of twigs and leaves beneath his feet.

Despite the peaceful atmosphere, Derek couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that gnawed at him. He knew what he had to do to gain his father's trust back, but the cost was high. He would have to deceive the one person he had started to care for in a way that made him feel sick to his stomach.

The weight of his actions hung heavy on his shoulders as he walked, and the once peaceful woods now felt ominous and foreboding. He could feel the weight of every step he took, as if the earth itself was protesting his deceit.

He came to a clearing and sat down on a log, taking a deep breath and trying to calm his racing thoughts. The silence was deafening, broken only by the sound of his own breathing.

As he sat there, he couldn't help but feel a sense of longing for a simpler time. A time before the weight of his father's expectations and the burden of his own actions had taken hold. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind.

But the peace he sought eluded him, and he couldn't escape the guilt that followed him like a shadow. He knew that he had to move forward, to do what was necessary to gain his father's trust back. But at what cost?

“Kill her, get the antidote,” these words kept ringing in his head.