Chapter 12: Morning Ritual
1294 Words
Calebs POV:
The morning sun hadn’t even crested the hilltops when my alarm buzzed. I didn’t wait for it to go off a second time. My eyes opened the moment the room filled with the faint pre-dawn glow.
Discipline was habit now — and habits build alphas.
I got up, stretched, and pulled on my joggers, a white vest and my running shoes. Most warriors trained five times a week, but I was the next Alpha. Expectations were different for me, so I trained every single morning. I like to hold myself to a higher standard. No excuses and no days off.
By the time I hit the grounds outside the pack house, the rest of the training grounds were still silent. I liked it that way. The quiet gave me space to think. To breathe.
I jogged across the field, weaving through the frost-tipped grass, muscles waking with each stride. Ten laps, then hill sprints. I didn’t stop until my heart pounded and sweat soaked through my shirt.
Just as I slowed down, I spotted him — already waiting.
“Late,” my dad smirked, stretching his arms.
I grinned. “You’re just old. Everything feels early when you wake up at 4 a.m.”
He laughed — a deep, warm sound that always felt like home. “Keep talking, pup. You’ll be sore by breakfast.”
“You’re limping,” he said casually, arms folded across his chest.
“Only because I beat my legs to a pulp yesterday,” I shot back, smirking.
He grinned. “Excuses. The next Alpha shouldn’t need rest days.”
“The current Alpha takes rest days”
“That’s because the current Alpha has earned his rest.”
We bumped shoulders as I passed him, and the two of us headed out for our morning run — not for the exercise, but for the bond. This was our thing. Always had been, and I held onto these mornings together, more than I’d admit out loud.
Afterward, we headed into the training pit. Declan, our Head Warrior, was already circling the mat when we arrived. He gave me a nod, handed me a sparring staff, and didn’t waste time with small talk. Combat with him wasn’t a workout — it was a battle.
“Try not to let me break your nose today, golden boy.”
“Try not to cry when I break your ego,” I muttered with a grin.
He never went easy on me, and I never asked him to. I learned more from every strike than I did in any textbook. Leadership wasn’t inherited. It was earned. With blood, sweat, and a few broken ribs along the way.
“Eyes up, Alpha-to-be,” he barked, tossing me a padded staff.
I caught it and moved into stance. “Hit me with your best.”
We continued to clash hard — sweat, strikes, dodges, slams. Bruises bloomed under my skin, but I didn’t complain. This was how legacies were forged. Every hit reminded me of the weight I carried.
We sparred for forty minutes.
After training, I headed upstairs and peeled off my drenched shirt, heading straight to the shower, letting the heat sink into my aching shoulders. The pack house was coming to life downstairs — laughter, movement, the clang of dishes in the kitchen. I toweled off, pulled on jeans and a navy shirt, and made my way down.
The smell of cinnamon hit me first.
“Is that Josephenes' bread?” I called out as I stepped into the kitchen.
Lucie — one of the long-time maids — turned from the oven, her eyes brightening.
“Only for my favourite,” she said, waving a spatula at me. “And no stealing, Alpha-to-be, it’s cooling!”
I grinned and swiped a slice anyway. “If you didn’t want me to steal it, you shouldn’t have made it taste so good”
She tried to swat me but missed. I ducked behind the counter laughing and caught sight of my mother as she entered the room.
“Boys still giving you trouble, Josephene?” Luna Madaline asked as she stepped in, exuding an air of calm and warmth.
“Only your boy,” Josephene teased, glaring in my direction.
Mum shook her head fondly. “You’re incorrigible, Caleb.”
I leaned down and kissed her cheek. “You wouldn’t love me half as much if I wasn’t.”
“You might be right,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “Where’s your father?”
“Stretching his old man knees out somewhere.”
“Rude,” came the familiar voice as Dad walked in, toweling his hair. “Just for that, you can help me explain the war logistics tonight.”
I groaned. “That’s not a punishment. That’s foreplay for you.”
Mum smacked his chest. “Language!”
We all laughed.
They weren’t just Alpha and Luna. They were my parents. And even though the title came with pressure, my life has always been filled with love.
I grabbed my bag and headed out to my truck, scrolling through my phone as I started it.
Chantelle 🐾: Thinking about last night.
Chantelle 🐾: Wanna come over after training again? I promise to behave. Mostly.
Me: Behave? That doesn’t sound like you.
Me: Pick you up in ten. Wear that thong I like.
She sent back a selfie — low-cut top, perfect hair, smirking lips. I didn’t feel anything deep with her. But she was hot. Easy. Familiar. And good at knowing when to shut up and just make things fun.
By the time I rolled up to her house, she was already waiting outside with Mya. Chantelle slid into the front seat, perfume spilling through the cab as she leaned across the console to kiss my cheek.
“Took you long enough.”
“Had to calm my hard-on after your last message.”
She laughed, biting her lip. “You love it.”
The second the girls were in, the energy shifted — they were already chattering about weekend plans and the latest trends.
“I need to hit the salon before the party,” Chantelle said, glancing at her phone. “These nails are tragic.”
“You say that every week,” Mya teased.
“Because they always are!”
In the back seat, Cole chuckled. “As long as you can still scratch, I’m good.”
“Gross,” Mya muttered, shoving him.
“Hey, are we still hitting Jacob, Joshua and Nathans' on Saturday?” Grey asked. “I heard their dad’s out of town.”
“Yeah, it’s on,” I said. “But only if I don’t crash from the war plans.”
Chantelle leaned forward, wrapping her arms around my shoulders from the back seat. “Our future Alpha, always so noble.”
I rolled my eyes. “Someone’s gotta keep you lot out of trouble.”
The second we pulled into the parking lot, eyes turned.
Girls fixed their hair. Guys nodded like they were part of something. People moved aside when I stepped out.
“God, you love this,” Mya said, flicking her braid over her shoulder.
“I don’t even notice it,” I replied, adjusting my jacket.
“Sure,” Cole grinned. “And I don’t notice when someone’s checking out my ass.”
We moved together like gravity — always watched, always talked about. I didn’t mind. The attention, the image, the expectations — it was all part of the package.
What mattered more was what no one saw — the mornings like this, the training, the plans, the pressure.
I carried it quietly.
Because that’s what Alphas do.
- Writer
