ORTIZ

The bones in my feet dug into the earth through my shoes and I shivered, frozen to the bone as I trudged through the rain. I had been walking for God/dess knows how many hours through the mountain, and my much shorter legs could barely keep up with the fast pace.

I was beyond exhausted. I barely got any sleep last night, forced to stay awake until dawn if I wanted any hope of finishing my homework since my training went so late into the night. Doing math equations for two hours and writing a five-page paper on 'The Great Wolf War', all the while nursing a newly broken clavicle left my brain completely useless, and my body was quickly pursuing its example as I traipsed along.

My father was so far ahead that I could barely see him, the rain and the fact that he demanded we go off-trail making visibility even worse. I blinked rapidly as I squinted through the fog, fruitlessly attempting to rid my lashes of the copious amounts of water that clung to them. My leg muscles burned with the fire of a thousand suns, but still I forced them to take yet another trembling step, knowing that the consequences of not doing so would undoubtedly be much worse than even the most intense next-day soreness.

The backpack on my back - filled with bricks - probably weighed half of my own weight, which honestly wasn't much considering my young age of 16, as well as the fact that I was chronically overworked and underfed.

My father absolutely hated that I wasn't big, tall, and muscular like him, and he quickly decided that these weekly, day-long hikes were a necessary addition to my training schedule in a last-ditch effort to finally pack some muscle onto my lanky frame.

I didn't know much about growing muscles, but I had a feeling that his method would never work. Not when my body was stuck in a constant cycle of utilizing all of its excess energy to heal whatever broken bone I'd sustained in any given week.

My breaths were coming out in short spurts at this point as I finally began to catch up a little bit, no doubt assisted by my father's figure, which was now still and turned back in my direction. He was staring back at me with a look that made my knees tremble even more than they already were, dark eyes as clear and piercing as ever through the heavy rain despite the fact that I struggled to see everything else around me.

'Why is he waiting?' I wondered, my brain running through eight-thousand different scenarios in a single second.

Did I do something wrong?

Was I in trouble?

Was he going to hurt me again?

A wheeze of air slipped between my lips at the thought, the sound more of a whimper of dread than anything else. There had to be a reason he was waiting. Usually, he was more than fine with leaving me behind to slip and slide in the mud until I figured out a solution on my own.

But this... it was completely out of character for him, and I shivered with fright as I neared him.

I was getting so close that I could see his black curls, wet, plastered down to his forehead and so similar to mine that I couldn't help but be reminded that I was undeniably of his blood.

It took a few more slips in the mud and a few more wheezes before I was finally within 25 feet or so of my father, my entire lower body and hands caked with muck. My head whipped around, surveying the area as I simultaneously searched for any tools that could help protect me from what I knew was to come.

We were in... a clearing?

No, not just a clearing.

The other side was void of not only trees, but also a ground.

This was a cliff.

I froze.

Ever since I could remember, I had been deathly afraid of heights. Something about looking down so far, onto a place that could so easily claim your life with less than an inch of a misstep made my instincts go haywire, my lungs lock up, and instilled my panic-stricken limbs with a mind of their own.

Submit to nothing.

"F-father!" I yelled out through the loud onslaught of rain, clutching the straps of my pack as if they would keep me anchored to the ground. "This is... this is dangerous!" I plead, every single exhausted muscle rearing to life in an effort to conceal my panic.

If he knew the extent to which I wanted to shake in my very boots, he would probably think of something - anything - to make this entire situation a million times worse, like dangling me over the side of the cliff until I learned to 'master my vulnerability.'

My fear only heightened at the sneer that overtook my father's features, freckles creasing between his eyes as he stared me down.

"Danger is the life of a Beta, Ortiz. You know this. Or... maybe I have not made that lesson clear enough?" He passive-aggressively inquired, slipping his arms out of the loops of his own pack to drop it onto the muddy ground.

I immediately shook my head. "No, sir. I remember the lesson very well."

"You better. The number of times I have had to reteach your lessons is infuriating. Of course, I had to get stuck with a son whose brain cannot even handle the most basic of education." He scolded. I could only bite my lip and look down at the ground as if it were the most interesting thing in the universe, hoping that the teariness in my eyes could be concealed by the downpour falling all around us.

I couldn't speak for fear of a sob escaping instead, so I decided to follow his example and drop my own pack onto the ground, grateful for the opportunity to rid my aching back of the intense weight. However, before I could even get it off of one arm, my father's gaze turned even more steely.

"Did I tell you that you could take your pack off?" My father cocked his head, a cold smirk stretching his cheeks on one side, "You do not have that privilege, brat. Not until you man the hell up and stop acting - and looking - no stronger than a fucking Omega."

I cringed, head still hung low as I slipped my pack back onto my indented shoulders. And for some reason, this time it felt even heavier than before.

"We will spar here. No area is off-limits, nor is any maneuver," He instructed, tilting his neck to the side to loosen it as his fists clenched at his sides, "You will keep that pack on the entire time. Am I clear, Ortiz?"

I gulped. There was no way in hell that I could win, especially not with this heavy pack weighing me down.

But I didn't have a choice.

I never had a choice.

"Yes, sir."

And with that, he pounced.

I barely contained a scream as I tried to jump out of the way of his attack, but he had the element of surprise as well as the fact that my balance was severely thrown off due to this heavy pack on his side.

The air was knocked out of me as his fist connected with my side as I slid out of the way, my ribs immediately aching with the force of impact.

"Too fucking slow! I taught you better than this! Fight like you fucking mean it!" He roared as I stumbled backwards to the opposite side of the cliff landing. My footing was unsure among the wet and slippery rocks and mud, but the last thing I wanted to do was turn my back on him. That was much more terrifying than a potential fall.

I huffed, bending over for a few moments in an effort to catch the breath that had been punched out of my lungs.

This was hellish.

I was so tired, so hungry, so thirsty, so cold, so wet, so dirty, so exhausted. Fighting my Beta father in a sixty-pound backpack, on the edge of a cliff was the very last thing that I wanted to do.

I couldn't fight back. Hell, I could barely stand.

But I didn't have a choice.

I never had a choice.

My muscles tensed as he came at me again. This time I was ready for it, jaw clenching as I swiftly maneuvered my way to the right and out of his clutches at the last second. However, just as I evaded, he whirled around - claws shifted - and lunged right back at me without so much as a pause.

That, I wasn't expecting.

I yelped, the back of my skull smacking on a rock with a cracking sound that reverberated through my ears and radiated throughout my entire brain.

The world spun around me in a beautiful array of colors, and my father's voice was a muffled mess in my ears as he crouched down on top of me.

I wanted to laugh - and I think I did - but it ended up coming out as more of a cough as a few red bubbles popped up in front of my eyes.

'How pretty' I remember thinking as I gazed at my own blood, the faintest smile pulling my lips as I lay there.

And then, my head snapped to the side.

And then, to the other side.

And then, back to the other side.

Oh.

Was he punching me?

Who knew.

If only I could think, maybe I would be able to know that my face was now bloody, swollen mess, and that my fight or flight should probably be kicking in to deliver me even a little bit of adrenaline to defend myself.

But honestly, I didn't really care anymore.

My face, along with every single little cracked part of my soul, felt so numb. It was so damn cold, in that icy, freezing rain.

No matter what I did, I would never be the Beta he wanted. I would never be the man he wanted.

I would never be the son he wanted.

So what was the point?

If I were to die here, at the edge of this cliff, I would probably get to see some beautiful sunrises every day.

That would be nice.

But... no matter how tired I was, there was one thing... one, little, minuscule part of my brain that objected. It fizzled to life against my will, and I had to resist the urge to tear up again as it asked me one, perfectly dreadful question.

If I died, this would all be over.

...But... did I really want to die without ever feeling what it felt to truly be loved by someone?

I could deny it as much as I wanted to; I could push down the ache as much as my father demanded, but as sure as the stars are to the sky, that question would always be there, no matter how much I loathed its presence.

I wanted it. I wanted love so badly, it was the only thing keeping me sane. The only thing that kept my muscles moving through each training. The only thing keeping me from taking my father's gun - the same one that took the precious life of my pet kitty all of those years ago - and training it to my own temple.

"I just wanted you... to... love me, dad." I coughed, more red bubbles popping in front of my eyes, "Why... why can't... you just... love me?"

In a fantasy world, he would have pulled me into his arms, crying on my shoulder and telling me that he does love me, that he's so, so sorry, that he will do anything he can to mend what was left of our horribly twisted relationship.

But this wasn't a fantasy. This was my life.

And I was reminded of that in an instant as his lip curled up in a sneer, eyebrows pulled together in vexation, and arms tensed the same way they always did before he was planning to hit me.

But - to my utter surprise - he didn't hit me.

Instead, he did something much, much worse.

His breath was hot as he leaned down into my face, making sure that I heard every single sharp word that rolled off of his serpent's tongue.

"Jaxon Ortiz. Listen to me, and listen to me well." He began, voice sickly sweet as he tilted his head to a menacing angle, "No one will ever love you, including me. Not so long as I am still alive and you are still grossly unworthy of being my successor." I gasped, choking on air as he yanked my hair back by my scalp, exposing my neck, "...I will spend every day of my life, until my very last breath forming you in my image, just as my father did, and his father before him. And when I finally succeed, you will know that 'love' is just some stupid shit dreamed up by Omegas and idiots alike. It will only ever work against you. And I will not allow you, or anyone, to be my downfall."

...

I don't recall the exact moment, but it was somewhere around his second-to-last sentence that my fight-or-flight finally decided that now was the time to kick into gear.

And I screamed.

With a power I didn't know that I possessed I was suddenly up on my feet, my strength somehow quadrupled as I grabbed my father's arms and pushed with all of my might.

He was so, so heavy, but I was determined.

I needed him away from me, off of me, out of me.

"I AM WORTHY OF LOVE! I WILL FIND IT, AND YOU WON'T STOP ME!" My vocal cords were so raw and blood spat from my lips as I screamed, but it was nothing compared to the red that I was seeing all around my periphery.

He fought back, thrashing against my hold, but I had never felt a need, a desire so strong in my life. It was somehow stronger than me alone, stronger than any lesson he'd ever taught me, stronger than his muscular frame as he struggled in my hold.

The mud squished underneath my feet, making me slip a few times, but it didn't matter.

And then, before I could even comprehend what I was doing, his heels were hanging over the edge of the cliff and he teetered precariously on the edge, and he looked over his shoulder with wide, frantic eyes.

"Hey, hey, listen, we can work this out, just... just don't push me any further, okay?"

I'd never heard my father's voice so distressed - so panicked and scared - as it was at that moment. But among the rushing in my ears, his pleas were lost.

He'd hurt me if I helped him to safety, I just knew it.

He'll hurt me.

He'll hurt me.

"Help me up, son!" His voice was even more frantic now, cracking with trepidation as he now clung to me instead of trying to get away. He glanced over his shoulder once again with wide eyes, no doubt assessing the depth of the cliff, "Jax, I love you, okay? I love you!"

My grip stuttered, tears forming in my eyes at his words.

I wanted to believe him.

I wanted to believe him so bad that my heart felt like it might just pound its way out of my chest with the effort with which it was pounding against my bruised ribcage. So bad that I almost pulled him back to safety.

But then, he decided to speak again.

"You fucking bitch, pull me back up right now, or else I'll kill you! I'll kill you with my bare fucking hands!"

I looked down at my mud-caked shoes, chuckling at nothing as I reinforced my grip on his trembling biceps.

That was it.

I was done.

"You know, dad. Wasn't it you who told me to submit to no one?" I tilted my head as I slowly raised it, mimicking the way that he looked at me while I was sprawled out on the ground, bloody and gasping for air beneath him. His eyes were wide as I spoke, and suddenly he felt so small, so tiny and crushable in my grasp.

"... I think I'll finally start following your advice. After all, I wouldn't want you - or anyone - to be my downfall." I chuckled humorlessly, my voice so monotone that I barely recognized that it was me speaking,

"... So how about you just... fall?"

And with that, I let go.

... Because I didn't have a choice.

Because I never had a choice.

+

I took a deep breath as I finished my story, my hands clutching Corey's strong biceps, not unlike I clutched my father's on that day. But this time, it was to keep someone that I loved with all of my heart closed to me as I silently begged for him to still want to be with me after what I'd finally told him.

"... When I finally trudged my way back I told everyone that he just slipped. The storm was so bad that day that they didn't even question it." My voice was but a whisper as I released one of Corey's biceps to wipe at my eyes. "But... it was me. I... I murdered my own father, Corey."

His arms tightened around my waist, chest rumbling with what I could only assume was an Alpha's possessive instinct, saturating deep into every pore in his large body. His anger rippled through our bond, and I could inherently tell that he was feeling borderline homicidal himself after my confession of my father's brutality. But his voice completely contradicted his body language, the deep intonations holding nothing but love for me as he finally responded,

"He was not a father. He was an abuser." His eyes caught mine as he spoke, "You were completely justified in what you did, Jax. I just... I'm so sorry that I did not find you sooner. I would have killed the bastard myself if I had the chance."

I shook my head, although my heart clenched at the offer.

"No, Corey. I don't ever want you to kill for me, I can fight for myself. Besides, I needed to end it with my own hands. I needed to know he was dead with my own eyes. Or else... I may have never stopped looking over my shoulder at every corner." I pressed my forehead to that of my mate, sucking in a deep breath as I reveled in the beautiful burn of his adoration for me, "But... there is one thing you can do. Something that would help me. At least, I think it would."

Corey pressed his lips to mine for a brief moment, expertly stealing my breath away in the way he always does, just before he pulled back a few millimeters to mumble against them,

"I said it before, and I will say it again and again until you remember it forever. Your will is my want, Jax. Tell me what it is that you need and it will be done."

I smiled, eyes twinkling as we stared at one another. And suddenly, I decided that I would push my father off of a hundred more cliffs if it meant feeling a love like this.

"I need to see him. I need to visit his grave, just this one last time. Please... come with me."

_

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