The Beast

Chapter 1 - Frustration

"I thought I told you to stay inside!" Mark growled and forced the front door of our house open with a slam of his fist. He shoved me inside, rattling the same door on its hinges as he forced it closed. I stumbled over the frame and caught myself on my mother's decorative table before I face planted onto the wooden floors.

My lips parted into a scoff and I brushed myself off, biting my antsy tongue to refrain from angering him further. My mother, Juliette, appeared from the other room, a common expression of worry and curiosity on her aging face as she took in her mate's rigid stature.

"Mark, what is going on? Is everyone alright?" She reached her hands out for me to take and inspected my body for any serious cuts and scrapes.

My father ignored her and began his intimidating pace with his arms crossed over his chest. I let out an annoyed huff and rolled my smoky eyes to the painted white ceiling.

"I don't understand what is so wrong with me wanting to be out there fighting at my pack's side. Why spend the time training me if you planned to keep me locked inside?" My hands waved desperately in the air as I created distance between me and my parents.

My father stopped and turned toward me at an eery slow speed, a deep growl rumbling from his chest and his fists clenching to white knuckles at his sides.

"You will not question my decisions. I am your Alpha above all else, and you will address me with respect." His words came out as an unwavering command, but my stiff stance that served as a clear act of defiance remained without change. "You have fought me tooth and nail on everything ever since you were a child. I will no longer have it!" His palm slapped against the table, causing my mother to move between us and stop him from advancing.

"Mark, you need to step outside and calm down before you lose control." She attempted to reason with him, but his eyes remained glued to me above her head.

I muttered in disbelief and turned to walk away, wanting nothing more than to be done with this conversation. If that was how he wanted things to be, he was bound for a rude awakening.

"I may not be your treasured son and heir to your title, but I am still your child if that means anything to you." I spat with finality before crossing through the back door and right back into the fresh air of the woods.

My stomach bubbled with irritation. How dare he demand my respect? He'd never forced Marcus to do anything he didn't want, and he was the future Alpha.

My frustrations spewed out as quiet mumbles as I stormed my way down a narrow, flattened path through the trees and toward my friend's cottage.

Maia was practically a sister to me. We had been friends ever since we were three and she shoved my face in dirt to get to the last popsicle my mother was handing out to all the children. I appreciated the fire that burned within her, and it made her a great warrior today.

She lived close by once she was old enough to be on her own, but far enough to be my regular escape from my family. She knew of my struggles with my father, and understood whenever I stormed through her front door, dramatically throwing my arms in the air while cussing about my frustrations that I just needed time away.

"I really think you may be overreacting. Just a little bit." She raised a fierce eyebrow and sipped on her hot tea from her bright yellow mug. She rested, perched with her long legs beneath her rear on her more modern leather couch that was supported by thin brass bar legs and orange cushions.

I growled and flopped down on the small round navy blue ottoman that was angled in front of her electric fireplace. It had buttons that secured the soft material and was small enough to move around the crammed room without taking up too much real estate.

"I just don't understand why he has me locked away. I'm not a child, and I'm certainly no prize someone is going to steal." I scoffed and rested my elbow on my knee, using it to support my chin in the palm of my hand.

She only shrugged and rested her hot mug on a rectangular glass coffee table in the center of the space, turning to me with a sympathetic smile.

"We are at war, Juniper. I know you're a great fighter, believe me, but he may just want to keep you safe." She draped a knitted blanket from the back of her couch across her lap. "Your family is a target, and Barlowe won't rest until Alpha Mark is dead."

I grumbled and turned my head to stare into the synthetic fire. I hated when she was right. Still, something felt off about his actions. Of all the people to try and protect, it wasn't his first born son who was nearly ready to take over his position.

My twin brother, Marcus, was a sweetheart. He's always there for anyone, but he seemed to lack the main aspect of being an Alpha—authority. He struggled in training and would rather sit inside with a book than out immersed in our pack.

I loved him with all my being, but sometimes I felt as if he wasn't meant to take over.

Maia waved her bony hand in front of my face with a wide smirk, her burning red hair brushing over her pale shoulders in tight ringlet curls.

"You still in there?" She teased, dodging the swat of my hand and rolling her eyes. "Well, you're free to stay here for the night. You know where your room is."

I childishly stuck my tongue out at her, watching as she waved me off over her shoulder and disappeared into the attached kitchen. I swear that girl does nothing but eat.

I really did feel comfortable in her home. She was great at designing the space to make it feel larger than the tiny two-bedroom cottage she had redone herself (with my help, of course).

It was run down and practically rubbish when she moved in, and with months of hard work, we made it a magazine's dream. Her real hardwood floors made from the trees of our very own forest and intricate wall detailings that gave it a classic look popped with her modern furniture and potted plants in every corner and on every shelf.

The room we had set up for me was large enough for a queen-sized bed made up of a simple oak wood headboard and forest green blankets, and a single matching dresser littered with my emergency supplies I always left behind for my quick getaways. I had enough clothes in those drawers to last up to a week, longer if I wasn't too lazy to wash them.

We shared a single bathroom just down the hall that had a shower-tub combo and single vanity with blue cabinets and brass handles to brighten up the limited space. The white marble countertop and glass sink were the icing on the cake for me.

It didn't take long for me to make it down the short hallway and past the first door that belonged to Maia. Her room was messy—her motto 'as long as the rest of the house looks clean, my job is done' was something she lived by religiously. Her white canopy bed was in a constant disarray, her floor blanketed in dirty clothes that she tore off and haphazardly tossed in a half asleep daze.

The next door to my left was the bathroom, and finally, to my right in the far back corner, was my room.

Nudging the cracked door open, I took in the appearance of everything that was exactly as I had left it. My novel I had started reading out of boredom was lying face down with my place still held in the center of the bed, my black exercise jacket hung from the footboard.

I plopped down onto the mattress face-first with a groan, kicking the hard-cover book to the floor once I felt the edges dig into my side without caring that I had just lost the page I was on. I growled into my pillows and let out my frustrations onto the inanimate objects, hoping they would bring me some sort of comfort as I managed to doze off, remaining in the black running shorts and tank top I had slipped on after the fight.