The Dark Side of the Moon

Chapter 13: Unknown

Benjamin’s eyes fluttered open to reveal a plain hospital room, with a young nurse standing in front of him. Her long blonde hair was tucked into a ponytail that swung slightly as she walked around the bed and tended to his injuries. A thick salve was applied to his torn up back and he hissed in pain at the sting that came with it.

“Sorry,” the nurse murmured. After she was done with his back, she sat beside him and rubbed a little bit of the left over ointment onto his wounded face as well. She then left the room without a word and clicked the door shut behind her.

Ben glanced around at his body and winced slightly when he felt his injuries and wounds in various places. All in all, he suffered scratches to the face, chest and legs and by the feel of it – a few long cuts that oozed pain situated on his back. Bandages were wrapped tightly around his torso, but his back was left bare and untouched. An IV was inserted into his wrist and he watched the medicine slowly drip into his bloodstream. He didn’t really need all the medical help; his supernatural healing would do most of the job for him anyway.

The door to his right was nearly ripped off its hinges when it was swung open. The man he recognised as his father stormed in and slammed the door behind him. His nostrils were flaring and his hands were clenched at his sides as he inspected his son’s injuries.

“Who did this?” he roared.

“Calm down father,” Benjamin urged. It would not help to have a fully grown wolf inside the cramped hospital room, and that was exactly what his father would become if he did not control his temper.

“Calm down? How can I be calm! You are the son of the Sergio pack’s Alpha, you should not be harmed like this!” his father growled, but his voice had lessened in volume slightly.

“It was by my own doing- I...I attacked the rogue,” Ben stammered out. His eyes dropped to the floor and he could not bear to see the look of disappointment cross his father’s face. He was right: he was the son of an Alpha. He had raw power in him that was just because of that fact, and being beaten by a rogue was shameful.

“And you did so without protection?” his father asked, tapping his foot impatiently on the tiled floor.

“No, I took eight of our best men with me.” Ben sighed. “He dealt with them all easily.”

“And yet you still failed to take him down?” his father sighed. Ben glanced at his father’s form and was surprised to see a tired, stressed expression on his face. His hand was running through his greying hair and he looked deep in thought.

Benjamin considered telling his father the truth - that he had cowardly run away and fled – but he couldn’t live with others knowing what a wimp he was. No, it was better to bend the truth a little, and perhaps give him some credit in the process.

“I fought him one on one. He was strong, but I was winning. Somehow I got distracted, he struck me and I ended up on the floor. He then had the upper hand and wounded me like this,” Ben gestured to his body. His lie was thinly strung together with improvisation, but if his father bought it, it enabled him to keep his dignity.

“You should know better,” were his father’s words. They could have been worse, but they still stung Ben and all he wished was to please his father: to be the perfect son.

“We should track him,” Ben suggested. If all went well, he would be healed and well in no time. If he was the one to track this wild rogue then he would have a chance to redeem his name and kill the shifter.

“No.” His father’s tone left no arguments. “Tell me, what did he look like?”

Benjamin cast his mind back. “His human form had short black hair and brown eyes; he was well built and about six-foot-two. He rode a motorbike as well...”