Warning: violent scene. Please skip this chapter or proceed with precautions for readers sensitive to violent scenes.
The sound of a whip cracked in the vast hall. Then it hit the back of the eighteen-year-old werewolf, but no scream, groan, or even yelp was heard.
"I told you before not to enter the enemy's pack! You are so stubborn! "
Then the whip attacked the poor young man's back again. He still stood straight, though he winced a little to endure the pain. Some werewolves who walked through the hall could see the incident of Ryan Matthew, the Alpha of The Ferocious Pack, hitting his son, John Matthew, as they were in the barracks.
"You will be an Alpha soon! A leader must be able to follow orders first before commanding others! You are completely wrong if you think you can ignore everything because you are my son!" Ryan struck the whip again to John's back.
John's bareback was bleeding, but Ryan continued giving his son a lesson as if he wasn't satisfied yet. The whip then hit John's arm; the arm started bleeding. John bit his lower lip as it hurt a lot considering his back might be immune to the whip hitting already, but not his upper arm.
"We are the rogues. No one will laugh at me because of my incapability to teach my son. Do you want me to be a laughingstock, Son?"
"No, Father." John lowered his head.
"Louder! I can't hear you!"
"No, Father!" John winced again as his arm and back ached. "I'm sorry. I know I made a mistake and won't do it again."
"Good! Now, chop the trees and make sure you fill the storage until full. I don't care if you need a week or two to do it! Move!"
John took a deep breath and bent his head a little. His shoulders sagged, feeling entirely defeated and humiliated. "Yes, Father." Afterward, he left the barracks and went to the backyard.
The Ferocious Pack's location was in the highland, surrounded by the forest. So many trees grew in this forest, like black oak, ponderosa pine, incense-cedar, and white fir. The pack would need a lot of firewood as the next month was winter. That was why Ryan asked John to chop down a lot of trees.
John dashed to the tool storage area, searching for an ax. But before he could enter the storage, Daniel Creek, his friend and the Delta in their rogue pack, came.
Daniel grimaced as he saw how ugly the wound on John's back was. The blood damped John's white shirt. "Man, what did you do this time?"
"I accidentally entered the enemy's area. I hunted and lost track of time and place. Then I crossed the border." John shrugged. "It's not a big deal. It's common, as my father may be frustrated with something, and he may need to vent his anger. I was the easy target for him." John laughed but then stopped to groan because his back was sore.
"Hey, let me help you with your wound. What is your punishment this time?"
"Chopping the wood in the forest."
"Okay, I'll help you, buddy."
John shook his head. "No need. If my father knew, he might lash his anger again. You may be dragged into my problem."
"He won't know. I'll meet you there. Don't forget to leave a trace. I'll wipe the trace so that it will be safe." Daniel winked.
John nodded, too grateful for Daniel's willingness to help him. The firewood storages were four storages, each of 1,500 square feet. Filling all storage until full would take a lot of time.
Daniel grabbed the bandage to wrap John's back and upper arm. He wrapped it tighter to ensure the wounds were closed. "There you are."
"Thanks, buddy!"
They took axes, and then John headed first to the Highland Forest. He marked the ground with his smell by spitting on them. After arriving at the wood, he started chopping a pine tree—no need for a long time for the tree to fall. Since John is the strongest rogue in their pack after his father, most rogues fear him. Only Daniel approached him ten years ago since no young werewolves dared to do so.
At that time, John was hit by Ryan for violating the rogues' rule for stealing things. The Ferocious Pack could attack any pack, kill, and kidnap any she-wolves they liked, but they had a rule not to steal stuff from other packs.
John confronted his father about it, and Ryan told him, "We are rogues! We are not bandits. If we attack to plunder an area, it will be ours soon. Stealing things lowers our status as rogues to mere thieves! It is humiliating!"
When John was hurt, Daniel came forward to help John. Daniel didn't dare to confront Ryan, but he approached John to help him clean John's wound. It was the beginning of their friendship.
Daniel came with ten young rogues when John finished chopping the second tree.
John wrinkled his forehead and looked around. "What are you doing here?"
"Beta John, we come to help. We all will need the firewood. So, let's work together."
John shook his head. "No! It's my work to do."
Daniel stepped forward. "Beta John, I asked them to help. We are a pack. It's normal for us to work together. Right, guys?"
"Right, Delta Daniel!" A young werewolf nodded. "It will be our honor to help our future Alpha."
John stared at the werewolf. "What's your name and your rank?"
"Jamie Hock, Beta John. I am the Lambda in our rogue pack."
"Okay, Jamie, I'll remember you. If you work well and follow me, I promise you that your future will be bright."
Jamie kneeled and bowed his head. "Thank you, Beta John."
"Arise! Start working! We have little time."
"Yes, Beta!"
Then the twelve of them worked together. As the strongest rogues, John and Daniel chopped the trees while the rest cut the falling tree into the firewood's size. Soon, they could finish the work.
"Beta John, we will help you carry the wood to the storage."
John nodded. "Thanks! You all work well."
Those ten young rogues beamed to get praise from John. Then, without saying twice, they loaded the firewood on their shoulders and headed back to their place.