Beck

Hell. Absolute hell.

Ever since I can remember, my life has been a set of what I feel like are unrealistic expectations.

My father is the chief of our tribe. A hard man who thinks he has to protect us from every danger like we were still in the colonization era.

Add that to the fact that he is also a werewolf, then it's a host of secrets he has to protect. He really feels like it's us versus them.

And that would be fine, if he didn't lay out all his frustrations on me. His own son.

'You're the chief's son. You can't walk around like a pansy. You have to act like a warrior.'

He has been training me ever since I could walk in multiple forms of combat. It's like he's raising a soldier instead of a son.

'No son of mine will be caught off guard. You have to keep your guard up always.'

I'm already constantly with my guard up. But that's because of him, not anyone else. My mother tries to run interference whenever she can, but unfortunately my father seems to have an infinite amount of time to hassle me.

And it's not like he just wants me to be the warrior type - which is the furthest thing that I want. I absolutely hate violence of any kind.

But it's like he wants me to be a completely different person than I am. Nothing I ever do can satisfy him. It's never enough.

'Stand up straight, son.'

'Walk like a man, son.'

'No son of mine can be that feminine. Behave like a man!'

Please tell me, father. What is to behave like a man? How can everything I do be wrong? Even my voice he finds issue with.

Give me freaking break. I'm exhausted. I have to go school every morning, then come back to train with the warriors of our pack.

He's hellbent on making me "man up" but I'm already a man. I don't know what else he wants from me...

I mean, I do know it. He wants a straight, macho type of man like he is and I can never be that. It's just not who I am.

I'd much rather be playing with my mother's make-up than be playing fight with sweaty men. Why do we even have to fight anyone? They have guns. If anyone needs defending, use them.

Just not me, I appall violence or weapons of any kind.

But do I have a say in the matter? Of course, not. Why ask ME what I want to do with my life?

If you ask me, I don't even want to follow in my father's footsteps and become the next chief of our pack.

I'd like to branch out of the reservation, go to college and meet new people. It's not like the people here suck, but when every single person answers to your father... who are you supposed to complain to?

Especially considering he rules with an iron fist. I just wish he left his chief business outside of our house and family.

My name is Kuckunniwi Becker, Beck for short. I am 17 years old and I live on a reservation in the South of the United States.

Yes, I was born a werewolf. Same as all the other people who live here. We're a special kind of tribe, a pack.

Life in the reservation has its trials and tribulations, but also its privileges. Just not for me, the broken one.

Yeah, I'm afraid it gets worse.

Not only am I not the son my father wants, I'm also not the werewolf he needs me to be.

When I was 13, a full moon festivity was held in my honor. This was supposed to be my consecration to the Moon Goddess, the first time I'd shift into a wolf.

It's always an event when a young pack member shifts for the first time. It's an occasion celebrated by their parents and the rest of the community.

With me being the chief's son, all eyes were on me to put on a show and turn myself into a big wolf. Or at least big enough for my age.

Unfortunately, for some reason, I didn't shift at all. Not only that night, but any other night since.

Naturally, my father sent me to the best healer he could find but she told him there was no reason why I shouldn't shift. I have a wolf spirit just like anybody else.

My father took it upon himself to get me to shift one way or the other. He couldn't have his own son be different from everyone else.

I went through every ritual known to exist, special diets, at some point he even bit me in wolf form to trigger the transformation.

It was a tortuous hell to survive, but nothing he did made me shift into a wolf. Only served to give me scars both physical and psychological.

I guess you could say I started my journey of disappointing my dad from that age.

'You brought shame to our family.' He said.

Yeah... good times. And he's still trying to get me to awaken my inner wolf even at 17.

Honestly, at some point, you start to accept that some things are not for you. However, I do get the same abilities as other werewolves.

The sense of smell, higher strength, fast healing. I'm not a human, as far as I can tell. Just not a shifter in a society full of them.

Because I needed another reason to feel more different than everyone else than I already do...

Honestly, at times I feel so completely alienated from this environment that I don't know how much more of this I can take.

It's another August morning. Summer should be my favorite season because I don't have school, but unfortunately that only gives my father an excuse to work me harder.

I wish he had other children to focus on, but I'm an only child. He thought he lucked out having a boy first, but not so much.

I woke up early as usual to find my mom already cooking breakfast. My father is taking a shower in their suite.

I greet her and start setting the table. My mom works at the recreational center. A space where the community can meet, study or read the books available in the library.

But it's also a place where mothers can leave their small children while they go to work. It's a safe space while school is out.

A lot of people work outside of the reservation, so they have to leave early.

"Beck, you know we could always use more volunteers at the rec center. If you want to stop by..." - Mom suggested in a chipper tone.

"My son cannot waste his time playing at the center. He has important skills to learn." - My father interjected, coming into the kitchen sternly.

Mom glared at him, but I saw that coming.

"It's not a waste of time. There's value in taking care of children too." - Mom snapped at him.

"Of course there is. Just not for him, who has to learn how to lead our pack." - Father insisted in his stubborn tone.

"What if I don't want to learn this because I have no intention of leading anything except for my own life." - I shot back at him, irritated.

My father's disappointment became clear by the ugly scowl that appeared on his face.

"You are my son, whether you like it or not. This is what you were born to do. Maybe when you find your mate, she'll straighten you out." - Dad stated, doubling down.

"She?! Who says I want a girl to be my mate?" - I rebuked, annoyed.

The chief slapped my face hard. His hand print left an indelible mark on my skin. Tears formed in my eyes, threatening to fall.

My mom was furious over this, yelling at him in my defense. My cheeks burned where he hit me and this wasn't the first time. Not remotely.

"You'll learn how to be a man even if I have to kill you! You'll not bring shame to my pack!" - He shouted, ferociously.

I couldn't even bring myself to eat anymore. Not even breakfast I can enjoy in peace. And my day was only starting...

Mom tended to me before she left for work. I cried alone inside the bathroom as shame and anger mixed together.

Why does this have to be my life? Why?

We're a nation of tolerance and spirituality. Why do I have to suffer this indignity? I didn't ask to be born the Chief's son.

He dragged me along to his office where I would stay until it's time for practice. Honestly, it made me miss school. Summer before my senior year should be me having fun with my friends, playing, talking, doing whatever the hell we want.

But not me.

"Come on, little wolf. Let's play." - A young arrogant warrior teased me as I was forced to fight him. He knows I can't shift. Everyone here does.

I growled at him. If he's trying to get me angry, he's certainly succeeding.

We're inside the camp reserved for training. Everyday warriors train here when they're not defending our borders from other wolves.

My father watched me attentively.

The arrogant prick tried to goad me into attacking him, but I know his strategy. Instead of going for what he wanted, I dropped him using my leg work.

This made him furious. He charged against me with his full force. Not only is the bastard taller than me, he's also stronger. I had to play smart.

As he came guns blazing, I dodged his first attack. He was salivating to teach me a lesson, but I'm done being taught today. I already had a hand on me earlier, I don't intend to add more bruises to the mix.

As soon as he came for the second time, I countered with another maneuver, hitting his ribcage. He winced from the pain.

Now, he's really mad. Eyes glowing feral.

He came at me again and before I knew it, I was on the ground. He began forcibly choking me, even after I tapped the ground he wouldn't stop.

I was already turning blue when my father called him off of me. I gasped for air as my lungs burned with its absence. I coughed for a few minutes, trying to catch my breath.

"You fucking psychopath!" - I snarled at him, beyond furious.

"You shouldn't try to cut above your weight, little wolf!" - He smirked, boastfully.

"I'm no trying anything except to get the fuck away from here!" - I snarled, getting up from the floor.

"That's enough, son. Again!" - Dad intervened.

Did he not witness what I just went through?

For the love of Goddess...

"Father, please!" - I begged him, pleadingly.

"You have the warrior spirit, son. You just need to practice. Learn from your mistakes. Again!" - He insisted while the prick warrior was already grinning, eager to get his hands on me.

Another day and a set of bruises to keep me in check. Of what I don't know. The only thing I learned is that violence is pointless unless it's used for self defense.

After I arrived back at home, I helped my mom with dinner. My father and his disappointed frown are stuck inside his home office.

"I'm sorry you're stuck learning the ropes with your father." - Mom said, feeling bad for me.

"I almost died today when someone had their hands tight around my neck. It took father a while before he called it off. The only thing I'm learning is that this place is filled with psychos." - I told her in a snarky tone.

Mom immediately turned to examine me closely, seeing a petechial redness around my neck.

"Oh my Goddess, Beck! What the hell!" - She gasped in shock, looking horrified at this.

"Yeah, exactly. I fail to see the lesson here." - I said, rolling my eyes.

"The lesson is resilience, son. I won't always be here to call someone off of you." - Father interjected in an eerie somber tone.

"Is that a promise?" - I snickered, while he glared at me.

"He's only a teenager, Hohnihohkaiyohos. He shouldn't be facing these types of things." - Mom argued, irritated at him.

"When I was his age, I was up against men twice my age. No one ever beat me like they got to him." - Dad boasted, as if that was any reason to brag.

"HE'S NOT YOU!" - Mom shouted at him, fiercely.

"No matter what you do, you can't beat him into a man according to your standards. And you certainly can't beat him till he becomes straight." - Mom continued, touching a nerve. I gulped awkwardly, though I obviously agree with her 100%.

The Chief's eyes were glowing in rage as he glared at his partner.

"Watch me!" - He defied her, seriously mad.

Dinner tonight took a turn for the worse. I hate to be the cause of discord between my parents. I hate to see them fighting.

But this whole situation is a powder keg ready to explode, probably on me.

Dinner was as uncomfortable as one might imagine after that debate. My parents were at odds with each other the whole time.

When I took a shower later, I noticed the bruises all over my body. Bruising is not a new concept to me, but it still irks me to see them.

I hate how I have no control over my life, I feel so helpless and desperate. Honestly, whenever and if ever I get a mate, it'll be only downhill from here.

Not all werewolves are fortunate enough to find their mates in life. There are many couples around the reservation who are united by choice, not by destiny.

I try not to think about this too much. If I get a female mate, I won't be happy. If I get a male one, then my father is gonna kill me.

Either way, the choices are not looking so good for me. I hate this so much!

The next day, my mother woke up in the guest room. I helped her set the table but I'm not even gonna ask her what happened because I saw it yesterday.

When we're all inside the kitchen having breakfast, neither of them are looking at each other.

My father dragged me along to his office just like any other day while mom went to work. I wouldn't mind interning in his office so much.

It's the violent afternoon that bothers me.

"Are you ready to get your ass kicked, little wolf?" - The same warrior that nearly killed me yesterday taunted me as we got ready to face each other in the training area.

My father is watching the whole thing play out. It's bad enough that he provokes me by knowing he can outfight me. But calling me wolf when he knows I can't shift is what infuriates me the most.

"I'm always ready. Let's go!" - I replied with equal amounts of distaste and disdain.

He charged against me to overpower with his taller, muscular figure. As he came at me, I managed to use his weight and drop him on the floor in a surprise counter attack.

The loud thump of his body getting into contact with the hard floor made all the other warriors pay attention to our fight.

He gets up from the floor, fuming. His eyes glowed and next thing I know he came at me ready to choke me once again.

Except I knew he was going to do that, so I countered his strike with an attack of my own. Since I'm smaller, I slipped from his grasp and pushed his body onto the ground again.

Only this time, he hit his head harder than expected. Feeling the blood seep from his head injury, the warrior started to shift in anger.

Fur was taking over every inch of his skin, his nose was stretching into a snout when we heard a loud commanding voice.

"STOP!" - My father's order stopped him mid shift, compelling him to change back into human.

The chief came closer to where we were. I was still astonished by everything. The warriors' clothes stretched from the transformation but not so much that he couldn't still wear them.

"You're injured. Go to the healer. Dismissed for today." - He ordered the man, who was glaring at me like he wanted me dead.

Begrudgingly, he did what he was told and left, head still bleeding. My father turned to me with a peculiar expression.

"Pick another warrior. Continue your training." - He ordered.

This is my life. This is my fate. And if I'm forced to go against better fighters, I should learn to stand on my own. After all, I'm nothing if not a survivor.

https://youtu.be/Wmc8bQoL-J0

A|N: I should be finishing my other books but here I am.

This is a departure for me in many ways because I'm writing a story I never thought I would. But if I'm inspired to write another one, I should do something I never did before.

Love,

Léo.