Ian’s POV
“You’re supposed to be his older brother!”
My father’s voice roared back into my mind as it always did, constantly clawing its way into my thoughts to torment me.
I could still see myself as a young boy standing before him as he fussed over Cassius after we had a fight and both of us had injuries from it.
“You’re supposed to be more mature than this!” he would roar at me, and then proceed to beat me up to prove his point—for some reason that rationalized what he was doing.
He never addressed what had caused the altercation between me and Cassius because, at the end of the day, his dear golden boy could do no wrong.
I, for expressing any kind of discomfort or defending myself, was the one out of line.
It was the same with our mother too, though at least she pretended as if she didn’t have a favorite.
“You know how Cassius is, Ian. You have to be more understanding of him because he is your brother, and family helps family and forgives too.”
But this only worked towards Cassius.
Even when he was blatantly at fault, I was still the one that had to be forgiving, the one that had to be understanding.
But on the few occasions I offended him first, suddenly my parents knew how to dissect an issue and actually talk about it instead of moving around in circles and throwing blind blame.
It was clear between the two of us who they wanted to take over as the Alpha.
There was no doubt about it that they saw their son Cassius as the perfect fit because, once again, he was their precious golden boy that could do no wrong.
And I?
I was the one constantly at fault, the one who had to always prove himself.
“Your brother Cassius is currently ill. If we send him to battle, how will he be able to defend himself? You have always been good at fighting, Ian, so it makes sense that you should be the one to go to the battle until your brother has recovered…”
That was what my father said, straight to my face, while I looked at my completely healthy brother who was faking a cough so obvious the only reason someone wouldn’t be able to tell is if they didn’t want to.
At that time in my life, I had stopped hoping for fairness or justice from them; it was a pipe dream that never really led me anywhere.
It was hard for me to accept that my parents truly did not care about me—at least compared to my brother—but I still prepared myself for battle.
I went into the southern packs with the rage of a rejected son, slaughtering whoever came on the other side like cattle.
At first, I didn’t feel anything.
I had not been raised to feel.
The only thing my parents let me have access to was training, only to be perfected for a moment like this.
A war that had been brewing for years, so the only thing I carried in my hands was violence, and it was spread without caution.
Each day I bathed in enough blood to even make those who fought beside me frightened of me; they had enough sense to stay out of my way once we entered the battlefield.
But I came back victorious, even though severely scarred from what I had to do.
The pack members praised my name to the sky.
My parents could no longer ignore me; they tried to, but they saw a rebellion on their hands if they did.
Enough people wanted me to be Alpha that the entire pack would have been split into halves if they tried to still push for my brother to take the position.
Once I took my position, those of us who contributed most to the war were given the added title of a Grand Alpha, and that is how I became one of the five.
My brother, however, did not get over his inheritance being “stolen”—a strange thing to say when I was the firstborn and naturally was supposed to take over, despite our parents’ blatant preference for him. Enjoying the story? Read on at novelping(.)com.
Even to this moment, he still thinks the throne is meant to be his, and every move he makes is to snatch it from me.
His coughing brings me back to the present, and I see him slowing down his struggle, but not voluntarily.
His face is changing colors.
Realizing what I was about to do, I stepped back and allowed him to crumble to the floor, hitting it with a heavy thud.
“Get out!” I snapped at him, not wanting to look at his face anymore because it just aggravated me.
He rubbed his bruised neck then gradually stood up, carefully straightening out his clothes and adjusting the collar to hide some of the bruises on his neck.
Then, he casually gestured to what he had left on my table.
“For your own good, brother, you should look at what I left for you. We both know how often you draw in people that only end up stabbing you in the back.”
My fingers clenched into tight fists hearing that, and before I could give him yet another bruise, I pointed towards the door.
“I said get out, Cassius,” I told him.
He straightened more of the wrinkles on his clothes, and then he finally left.
As soon as he was gone, I thought about Selena.
I was supposed to have breakfast with her.
I went to the kitchen to inquire if she had gotten the ingredients yet, and that was when I heard a heavy smack.
Then, I saw Selena through the gap of the door, falling down.
Everything became a blur to me, and my voice came out before I could hold it back.
“How dare you touch her!”