His Male Luna

The child implored his mother with a desperate tone, "Please, do not subject me to this. I am willing to do anything. Allow me to remain here, for I cannot bear to continue living in solitude," he pleaded with great urgency.

She had barely opened her mouth when he dropped to his knees, nearly pressing his lips to her toes. His body was a canvas of violence, marked by the savage beating he had endured. Blood oozed from his wounds, staining his clothes and the ground beneath him.

Bruises bloomed on his skin like dark flowers, a testament to the brutality of his attackers. A copious amount of blood had pooled in his nasal cavity, and he had been deprived of three of his teeth.

With a fierce and unwavering stare, the woman fixed her eyes upon him, her anger palpable and uncontainable. The father stood by, a silent witness to his wife's cruel treatment of their son. He made no move to intervene, his inaction a stark contrast to the violence unfolding before him.

He was above assaulting his own son. The parents exhibited a distinct lack of concern for their offspring.

"Do not address me as your mother! As a mother, shame courses through my veins as I reflect on my actions. If only I had known how you would turn out," she whispered, her voice heavy with regret.

"I would have made a different choice." Her words landed on him like a heavy blow, as if he were a stranger to her, not the child she had carried and birthed.

Tears streamed down the boy's face as he let out heart-wrenching sobs and pitiful whimpers. In the heat of battle, his form is feeble and insubstantial. As he knelt before his parents, his heart heavy with desperation, they remained utterly unmoved by his pleas.

For a period of four long years, the young boy endured the torment of abuse. It all began when he was just twelve years of age, and now, at the age of sixteen, he still bears the scars of his traumatic experience.

"Leave this place at once, you wretched scoundrel! I would rather not have a son at all than one who is homosexual like you," the parent declared with a cold and callous tone.

The piercing sound of his mother's voice echoed through the room as she directed her anger towards him. The teenager bowed his head, a gesture of submission.

Ultimately, he proved to be a forlorn individual who preferred the solace of literature to the rigors of combat and physical training. His parents adamantly refused to accept his sexual orientation, a fact that would have otherwise made him the next in line to be an Alpha.

The elders, in order to preserve the pristine reputation of their family's Alpha lineage, imparted upon him the notion that he was afflicted with a curse. Consequently, they resolved to bestow the coveted title upon his younger sibling.

He had been subjected to abuse by every member of the Pack. The directive to proceed thusly emanated directly from his progenitors. Due to the relentless abuse and persistent bullying, there was a fervent hope that a transformation would occur within him.

The endeavor proved to be fruitless. As the relentless march of time pressed on, the situation deteriorated with alarming rapidity. The Pack had shunned him completely. It is a lamentable truth that their inclination is to inflict harm upon him rather than extend the hand of friendship, a circumstance that evokes great sorrow.

Those who identified as homosexuals, lesbians, bisexuals, and other non-heterosexual individuals were often viewed as societal outcasts. Within the pack, there existed no space for their presence.

The boy winced as his mother's hand connected with his cheek in a sharp slap. The Alpha, his father, swiftly rose from his seat and pulled him out into the hallway. The moment had arrived to depart from the pack. Bringing you into this territory would be nonsensical.

"Leave this place at once, lest I be compelled to end your life," he growled menacingly.

The young boy was taken aback by the Alpha's sudden outburst, causing him to instinctively recoil in terror. His heart raced and his breaths came in short, shallow gasps. His mind was consumed by a sense of overwhelming fear, leaving him in a state of utter panic.

Beyond the confines of this territory, he had no one. A band of ruthless rogues posed an imminent threat to his life. He stood before her, a wolf stripped of his self-assurance and tenacity, unable to hold his ground.

Once more, he let out a mournful cry and begged with all his might. "Then, shall I become your loyal servant!" He pleaded desperately, his eyes filled with tears.

"I implore you to allow me to remain!" A piercing scream of terror escaped his lips.

Because he doesn't eat enough, he is dying of starvation. Once a week, food was provided to him, though at times he was subjected to a brutal fate of being battered to death.

"Father," he pleaded, his voice trembling with desperation. "I beg of you! Please!" His voice was feeble, barely audible to anyone around him.

The Alpha's fury knew no bounds as he lashed out at his own flesh and blood, his son. There was no holding back as he unleashed his wrath upon the young wolf. Blood stained his hand as he coughed, but his father remained stoic, offering no hint of sympathy.

"Never again shall you address me as your father! The expulsion from the pack was a harsh reality that had befallen upon you. You shall find no acceptance, for you have been demoted to the status of Omega," With a furious roar, the Alpha bellowed.

The young wolf received another brutal blow from the Alpha, his body recoiling from the impact. With a final, forceful shove, he was cast out beyond the boundaries of the pack's territory.

As the young lad kneeled there, watching his parents depart, they did not cast a single glance in his direction.

As he watched his former packmates revel in their mirth, he couldn't help but feel the sting of their derision. They mocked him openly, expressing their relief at his absence and their pleasure at no longer having to tolerate the presence of such an outcasts.

He fixed his gaze upon the vast expanse of the night sky, his heart heavy with reverence for the Moon Goddess. His body lay still and silent, as if frozen in time, unable to utter a single word or make the slightest movement.

He had resigned himself to his present circumstances, or so he thought. There was little fault to be found in his actions, save for his unwavering commitment to his own nature.

The boy pondered, contemplating the acceptance of his current state.