2 Chapter Two: Rotten Luck
The day was ending, and Mason's arm was healing nicely after his run-in with the Alpha. He was able to take the bandage off hours ago, allowing him to do his chores without a problem.
He had already done most of his routine that consist of many things like
dusting, washing the walls, vacuuming, cleaning the rooms, and cooking meals for the hungry wolves; that seemed to have two stomachs instead of one.
He was always up and about, never having time for himself. He was always being ordered around doing everybody's bidding instead of his own. It was interference in Manson's life, that would never change. A sad defeat in his eyes.
Mason was currently cleaning one of the many living rooms the packhouse possessed, wondering what he should cook for dinner that following night.
The living room had a modern look to it, giving it a futuristic atmosphere. There were black curtains with white strips draped over the transparent casements, bringing light into the huge room.
There was a couch in the middle of the room, sporting yellow leather, making the room pop with color. Underneath the couch, was a fluffy rug that was zebra print, highlighting the coffee table that was made out of glass. There was a flat-screen that made up half the size of the wall, with all the game consoles the world had to offer, along with shelves decorated with games, and the latest movies that recently came out.
The living room itself could seat up to 50 people and was the perfect place for small gatherings. There were also fake plants that littered throughout the room, bringing life in its wake. Some decorations found themselves in all the right places, creating a masterpiece that was fit for a place such as this.
Mason was on his knees, leaning over the glass table that sat in the middle of the room. He had a brown rag in his hand, drenched in random chemicals that made cleaning easier than by hand. He placed it gently onto the glass surface, cleaning it to perfection.
He wanted to make sure there wasn't a spec of dirt left. He was a perfectionist when it came to his craft (Aka cleaning).
He was whistling to himself as the rag brushed against the surface, getting rid of all the nasty germs that littered the surface. He suddenly stopped when he heard footsteps in the near distance, making him more aware than he was original.
He slowly turned his head to face the entrance of the living room. He wanted to know who was coming his way because you never know when trouble would find your way.
His face paled as he saw his worst nightmare. In front of the entrance was the one person he dreaded to see. It was the Alpha's son, who made it a mission to make Mason's life a living hell. His name was Connor: who was in line to claim his father's title.
Connor had black hair that framed his Sunkissed skin. He had a tall muscular build that all the girls fan over, and a sharp jaw-line that highlighted his strong features. He had his goons standing beside him, and they all smelled of wolf's Vane, causing Mason's face to scrunch up in disgust.
Wolf's Vane was a type of drug that only affects werewolves. It's basically a form of weed; due to it having the same effects it would have on a human.
They all had grins plastered between their lips, laughing hysterically from the high they were on. Connor; however, seemed trapped in his own little world, ignoring the white-haired boy that had fear written all over his face.
Connor's high was taking him to a time he wished to forget. A time he used to be happy until his father ruined it all with his bare hands. His father had killed his mate in front of him, forever causing the poor lad to spiral out of control. He was losing himself, and it was all because of his father.
His father couldn't stand the thought of his only son being mated to a warlock. He thought it was disgusting for his own flesh and blood to mix with someone of that kind. He killed him as a prime example that werewolves should stick to their own, and no other species that have the breath of life.
Connor's father had traumatized his son beyond belief. He had dragged the corpse of his son's mate into the forbidden forest, to be scarf down by the inhabitants who live there. Leaving nothing behind for Connor to mourn over. No bones, nor flesh was left behind, forever breaking the once happy boy.
Connor had wished a thousand death's upon his father for ruining his happy ever after. Sadly, the past can never present itself once more, never allowing Connor to compensate for his cowardliness.
If he was stronger, he could have saved the love of his life from the devil himself. But he was afraid of the wrath he would face, causing him to be frozen in fear when his mate needed him most.
He had let his mate die a horrible death, and it was all his fault.
Connor had always blamed himself for his mate's death. His sorrows consumed him to the point where he didn't want to keep on living. He had to live, even though he didn't want to go on another day without his destined pair. He had to bear his loss for his pack's sake.
His pack needed him to become the next Alpha, and lead them to greatness. He had to repair the damages his deranged father created, and save them from his tyrant ways.
He had to do it for Wilson, who wanted him to live on.
Conor snapped back to reality when his righthand man, Jackson, bumped his elbow into Conner's shoulder. Connor tilted his head towards Jackson in confusion, who was pointing towards a direction, with a grin plastered on his twisted face.
Conner didn't understand why he was pointing until he followed the direction to where he was pointing to. Shock began to transform onto his sun-kissed face as his eyes tried to deceive him.
"What should we do to him, he looks like he is going to pee his pants," Jackson asked as if it was the funniest thing in the world; due to his constant laughter that sounded like a dying hyena. However, he got no answer from Connor, causing his laughter to go sour.
He looked towards his best friend, only to be flabbergasted at the sight he saw before him, making him hunger for that said look.
In front of Connor were his hopes and dreams. The love of his life, and the person he let down.
The scared boy was non-other than Wilson. It was a hallucination from the wolf's vain that was coursing through his veins. However, Conner didn't know that. He thought somehow Wilson magically arose from the dead to greet him with his presence.
Mason was scared for his life. He felt like a little puppy cornered by hungry wolves that were out for his blood. He could already tell something bad was gonna happen, and he didn't have the power to prevent it. He was weak, and he hated it.
He wanted to be strong for once. Sadly, that will never happen; due to him being a helpless Omega that is only good for cleaning, and bearing children.
He wanted that to change that, but the fates will always make his life a living mess.
He found himself pinned against the couch by one of the mindless goons that followed Connor everywhere, while Connor stared in complete horror.
The person who pinned Mason against the leather couch wanted him to suffer because the white-haired boy, in his eyes, gained Conners affection and he hated that thought. He wanted Connor for himself but knows that he can never have him. He is a common wolf with no power to call his own, that follows Connor around, wanting to be seen by the one he grew affectionate of.
Yet, he can never have him.
Anger coursed through Connor's veins, causing him to act on impulse. He threw both boys who attacked his precious mate like they were nothing but pieces of trash on the sidewalk. He then grabbed the scared boy by the hand and made a break for it to his room.
Once he reached his destination, he let go of his lover's hand to face the boy who he thought was dead. Oh, how he missed him so much. Life was like a bottomless hell that was slowly eating at him, without his other half to guide him back into the light.
He brushed his finger against his soft skin, causing Mason to tense up from the fear, and confusion. He watched as his childhood friend stares at him like he was lost in thought, breaking into tears that seemed uncontrollable.
Mason didn't know what to do in this type of situation. He just watched, feeling a sense of guilt, because of the things Conor had to go through. Forever changing his childhood friend into someone he barely recognizes.
Connor engulfed the person who he believed was his dead mate into a deadly hug. He was afraid that if he let go, he would be completely alone once again.
Snot covered Mason's shirt as he hesitated to put his hand on Conor's back as a way to comfort his crying friend. "It's okay," Mason whispered into his ear, causing Conor to cry even more.
"It's not okay, you left me for so long, and it was my fought you died", Conor said in-between sobs as he looked his lover in the eyes.
Mason was confused beyond belief, but he played along. He was a sucker when it comes to people suffering right in front of him. He was too kind for his own hood.
It seemed like Connor was suffering from some sort of loss that he didn't know about, making Mason want to help in some sort of way.
Mason was brought back to reality when he felt something press against his lips. It tasted like honey, but mason pulled away instantly. He didn't want someone else's lips on his. He felt like he betrayed his future mate somehow.
Mason could see a flash of anger in Connor's eyes as he pulled away, not wanting to meet Connor's gaze, In fear of the unknown. Before he knew it, he was pushed up against the bed and used against his permission. All because Conor was angry that his beloved mate rejected him, while he has been suffering for so many years without him. He wanted to mark him his; as a result, he marked the boy who he thought was Wilson, without truly knowing that the boy was no other than Mason, who was crying for help.
Sadly, no one heard his pleas when his body was being taken by force by non-other his friend that held a special place in his heart.
It truly was a terrible day that would forever scare the innocent boy.
-To be Continued
