Golden Alpha

Chapter 8: Alpha Bliss

Charlie woke in the usual quiet hour before dawn, staring at the ceiling. The events of the previous night had not allowed his sleep to be restful, so he just gave up on trying and pushed himself up and out of bed. His muscles protested as he stretched, the restless night not allowing them any relaxation. Agitation still simmered inside of him, reminding him of his humiliating outburst at the festival. How could he have let himself lose control like that? His fists clenched involuntarily as the scene kept replaying in his memory.

Tala's face flashed in his mind's eye and his anger surged anew. It was her fault. She was the one who pushed him to this point, the one who sabotaged his composure. The burn of humiliation resurfaced with a vengeance and he could feel all the eyes of the crowd boring into him as his father reprimanded him in front of them all. This was all her fault. She was derailing his world into chaos and it infuriated him that he seemed powerless to stop it, or stop this horrible growing obsession that was threatening his very sanity.

Determined to burn off some of that pent up frustration, Charlie left his room, and walked silently through the halls of the huge house. The heart of the pack lodge was the same building that had been constructed generations ago, lovingly preserved, maintained and lived in, but it was added on to as the pack's needs grew and evolved, with a few added luxuries along the way. One of these luxuries was a full gym in the basement of the east wing, which was exactly where he was headed.

He threw himself into his morning workout with a singular vigor. He berated himself silently to the rhythm of metal plates clanking. He should have had a better grip on himself. He should have known better than to let Oliver get under his skin. The memory of the moment he lost control haunted him and felt felt like a stab in the gut knowing that such behavior was not befitting of anyone let alone the Alpha that he aspired to be.

He pushed himself harder than he had in a long time on each machine in the circuit. Sweat soaked his hair and streamed in rivulets down his body like a toxin he was purging from it. By the time his work out ended, he was breathing heavily, muscles trembling with fatigue on the verge of complete failure. Here in this moment where his body had no energy left for anger, he sat cross-legged in the middle of the sparring mat, closing his eyes and using this time to reconstruct piece by piece, his shield of composure, determined to make it stronger than ever before.

The alarm on his phone chirped, pulling Charlie from his meditation, and reminded him that school was still a thing he was obligated to go to. Draping his towel over his shoulders, he headed back to his room, seeking the soothing respite of his shower. The hot water washed away all of the sweat and tension, and the cold rinse left him feeling rejuvenated. He toweled off and dressed. His style was still sharp and refined, but it was nowhere near what he had worn the night before. Studying his reflection, the arrowhead pendant rested on the center of his chest, close to his heart. It was a stark reminder of the mask he had to wear. With a final adjustment to the cuffs of his shirt, he pressed on to face the day.

He slung his backpack over his shoulder and made his way through the house. He knew he needed to speak with his father before he left. He owed him that much. The familiar Omega was near the door and he searched his memory for the name as he approached.

"Good morning, Peter," Charlie said, seeing a little glimmer of surprise on the Omega's face. He simply handed him the backpack and his car keys politely. "Would you please have this taken out to my car from me and have it started and ready to go? Thank you."

Peter gave a small bow and set off on the task Charlie had asked of him.

The halls were beginning to fill as more of the house woke, the echoes of his footsteps getting lost amid the growing hum of life that he had grown up surrounded by. The weight of the last night's events hung heavy on his shoulders and a gnawing sense of unease accompanied him. Even though he knew what he must do, it didn't make it any easier. As someone who was supposed to do no wrong, the task of apologizing was.. daunting.