I paced for a few minutes more, letting the adrenaline pulse through before I finally made a decision. My anger hadn’t left , but it was starting to drain into sothing else—a bitter determination. I couldn’t run from this. If I was going to prove myself, I needed to face it head-on.
There was no point in fuming on the sidelines, that had to stop. If I wanted to prove myself, I had to take action now. No more delays, no more excuses. It was now or never.
With a heavy sigh, I turned toward ho. The trees surrounding the training grounds whispered in the wind, the sun casting long, jagged shadows over the dirt path as I walked. Every step felt like I was trudging through the weight of my own frustration, but I forced myself forward. No matter how much my father had hurt , no matter how deep the cuts from his words went, I had to find a way to make him see .
There have to be a way.
The pack’s main house ca into view, and as I approached, my stomach tightened. The thought of facing him again after the day before made my skin crawl, but I kept moving. I’d lived under his roof for years, lived under the shadow of his expectations, and I wasn’t about to back down now.
Just as I reached the entrance, the door swung open, and there he was—my father. His towering figure filled the doorway, his sharp, hawk-like eyes locking onto imdiately. He leaned heavily on his cane, the carved wood resting in his hand like a weapon. The cane had always been a symbol of his strength, even when his body started to fail him. He’d never needed it before the injury, but now he wielded it like a reminder that even crippled, he held power over everyone in the pack—including .
His gaze narrowed as he took in my disheveled appearance, the dirt on my clothes, the cuts on my hands from training. There was no concern in his eyes, only the cold calculation I had grown used to over the years.
"Where have you been?" His voice was low, asured, as if he didn’t already know the answer.
"Training," I muttered, straightening my posture, forcing myself not to look away from him. "Where are you going?" I asked, noting the way he was dressed—formal, his coat draped over one arm as if he were heading out sowhere important.
"Not that it’s your concern," he replied, his lips curling into sothing that wasn’t quite a smile. "But I have a eting."
Of course. Another eting. Another discussion about the future of the pack, the decisions that would shape our lives, and once again, I wouldn’t be included. Just like the day before. Just like every other ti.
He started to walk past , his cane tapping rhythmically against the ground. I should’ve let him go, should’ve kept my mouth shut and saved myself the heartache, but I couldn’t. Not after everything.
"I can be useful, Father," I blurted out, turning to face him. "I’m not weak, and I refuse to stand idly by."
He stopped, his back still turned to , but I could feel the tension in the air between us. The weight of everything unsaid. Slowly, he turned his head, his expression hardening. "Useful?" He let the word hang in the air for a mont before chuckling, the sound cold and dismissive. "And what, exactly, would you contribute? Your place is not at the council table, Chloerendia. You know that."
"I know that you never give a chance!" I snapped, my voice rising. "You keep hidden away like so decoration while the others—"
"The others?" He cut off, his eyes narrowing. "The others have earned their place. You? You are my daughter, nothing more. Your value lies elsewhere."
I felt the sting of his words like a physical blow. Nothing more.
"Is that all I am to you father?" I asked, my voice cracking despite myself. "Just soone to carry on your legacy? To breed the next generation of Alphas?"
The silence that followed was deafening. He didn’t need to say anything; the answer was already clear. But still, his next words hit harder than I could have anticipated.
"Yes," he said, his tone unflinching. "That is your worth. You will never be a leader, no matter how hard you try. You are not your brother. You never will be."
The world seed to tilt on its axis, my vision blurring with a mix of rage and heartbreak. I clenched my fists at my sides, fighting the urge to scream, to shift, to tear into him with everything I had. But I knew it wouldn’t make a difference. Nothing I did would ever change his mind. To him, I would always be less.
I swallowed hard, the taste of bile rising in my throat. "One day," I whispered, my voice shaking with fury, "you’re going to regret underestimating ."
He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, before turning away once again, his cane tapping against the ground as he walked. "We will see," he said over his shoulder, his voice dripping with finality.
And with that, he was gone, leaving standing there, my chest heaving with anger and the crushing weight of his rejection pressing down on .
But as the door swung shut behind him, sothing inside shifted. This was the last ti he would make feel small. The last ti I would let him define my worth. If I had to tear down every wall he’d built around , if I had to fight tooth and claw to prove that I was more than his daughter, more than just a breeding tool, then I would.
Because I was done waiting for his approval. From now on, I would make my own path.
Even if I had to burn his world to the ground to do it.
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