Hyacinth’s Petal

The morning breeze was cool on his overheated, pale face. A gasping man constantly sniffed in an attempt to keep his mucus in. His temple was at work in developing beads of sweat that raced down his sharp jaw and onto his neck. Some didn’t survive the task and fell onto the ground, splattering their body on a few leaves. The cuts on Charlie’s coarse skin — resulting from years of heavy workout — didn’t bother him as much these days. He could barely remember the last time the wounds squirmed, begging to be scratched. Charlie’s leg balanced him on the small yet surprisingly strong tree branch as his blistered hands lifted his burning body onto another. Strategically shifting his weight from his legs to arms, the rough twenty metre tree was nothing against his half-werewolf body. It was ten to five in the morning, ending his workout in ten minutes where he could finally have a cold shower while his sister made breakfast for the pack house. Three rare hours of sleep a day could easily trample over a gift of two carats of gold. The young boy glanced at the rising sun and jumped off the tree as he observed the kaleidoscope of colours abundant in green, yellow, orange and white. There was a reason this was his favourite time of the day. His lips tugged up into an almost-smile, but not quite there. Then his least favorite time of the day came: choosing between slowly enjoying the fresh chirps of canaries, forest batis and multiple soothing creaks and croaks, which Charlie more than likely prefers. Or rush to the dreaded packhouse to make sure his sister won’t be attacked by multiple wolves. His rising heartbeat at the thought alone made the choice much easier than it was a few seconds before. He shushed his aching muscles to hurry along the dense patches of the forest until a clearing came into view. Charlie exhaled out a soft sigh of relief at the sight of the house centred right in the middle of it and slowed down his pace. He tried not to rip the door straight off its hinges, which he probably would’ve failed at if the thing was locked. A red hairy bun peaked from the top of the kitchen counter as the clunks and clangs of dish ware gently shook the house. An automatic smile tugged at his lips. He lightly stepped towards the edge of the counter, careful not to make a sound. Just as he leaned over to peek at Charlize, she stood up and harshly bashed her forehead on his chin. He groaned and stepped back while she dropped the pan on the ground with a loud thunk, quickly clutching onto her head. Charlie frowned and walked around the bench to check on her. She looked up at him with a half-hearted glare that immediately softened when she met Charlie’s eyes. He didn’t think of himself as an expressive human, but of course Charlize could dissect every twitch and tug at his face and still come to the right conclusion without saying a word. She smiled and pinched his nose, not very gently. Charlie pouted and yanked his head away from her merciless grip, rubbing it until the throbbing was finally chased away. Charlize shook her head, it was one of those actions that always had a touch of softness to it — Charlie may even go as far as to say affectionate. It wasn’t until she picked up the pan and finished arranging the kitchenware for the large breakfast menu — in silence — that she turned back around, with a raised eyebrow. Charlie’s eyes immediately found the dark circles invading her questioning gaze, he frowned. Charlize held her gaze with him — exchanging unspoken words — until she sighed and pet his head in understanding. Charlie forced himself to relax under her touch, convincing himself that he was safe with his sister, that she won’t harm him. Not yet at least. With an attempt at a reassuring smile that felt too out of place on his face, he pulled away first. Charlize let her hand hang awkwardly in the air for a few seconds and finally plopped it down by her side again. He shifted from one foot to another, nodded and walked away, used to this routine by now. With the exception of almost dislocating his jaw by his sister’s monstrous skull. Charlie dragged his feet up the stairs, one by one, until he finally reached the attic. He scrunched his nose at the familiar sharp smell of three dogs just a floor above. The uncomfortable peace from just a few moments prior was already broken as he stumbled over to the miniature cot that could barely fit two pups in. He finally crashed, the warm scent of cut grass still lingering in his nostrils. ~ “My Gatito.” Charlie inhaled sharply and jolted awake. Taking a few deep breaths, he observed the familiar surroundings, a warm scent draped him with a sweet promise of safety. A panic attack was rising like the sun at dawn. No, he can’t have one now, not in the pack house. It’s a weakness he can never afford to show, especially within the walls of these devils. He lifted a trembling hand to jab into his eyes, the attempt to control his breathing seeming robotic by now. He thought of her soft smile, clumsy actions that somehow managed to break at least one thing a day — usually a door handle or two, which was getting harder to hide these days. He let out a shaky breath and allowed more of those stories to whiz past his head until the room finally took a break from spinning. Braving a step out of his cot, he waited. When the fall didn’t come, he took a few more steps. And a few more. Until the smell of fresh bacon, toasted bread, scrambled eggs made its way into Charlize’s room. Gritting his teeth, he rushed downstairs, ignoring the whining muscles and ringing of his ears. The pack members of all sizes and shapes seated in the long dining room, scarfing down every last bit of food on their plates served by Charlize herself. He cursed under his breath when one of them gifted her with a snide remark of the food. The bastards had never stepped foot into the kitchen, they didn’t even know where the eggs were if it weren’t for her. “Why don’t you make the f*****g food yourselves, assholes?” That turned heads, angry ones. Charlie returned their glares with one of his own, refusing to submit to their Beta auras. He stepped into the kitchen and ignored his sister’s raised brow, though she was probably trying to hide her smile, if the small rugs at the corner of her mouth gave any indication. Then, Charlie smelled it. The scent that made his stomach churn and clench in painful knots. His muscles grew taut as the footsteps approached, further and further. Charlize’s smile dropped while Charlie busied himself with wiping the counter. Jale — youngest alpha of the triplets stomped to the plates and ordered his food loudly, successfully halting the chatter echoing in the dining hall. Charlie’s jaw tightened to the point where he heard a creak or two, he definitely would’ve shattered it if Charlize hadn’t moved over to his side, away from the werewolf. He grabbed the tongs and placed six pieces of bacon, scrambled eggs and whatever else was cooked, avoiding the sizzling glare that was enough to raise hairs on his neck. It wasn’t until the Alpha didn’t leave that he looked up, instantly regretting it. Charlie’s eyes met a searing gaze that forced his muscles to tense up, with his body fighting the urge to bow in submission for the Alpha, to please him in however way he could. The Alpha knew exactly what he was doing to Charlie. He smiled sardonically and tilted his head the slightest bit in challenge, patiently waiting for Charlie to make his move. Charlie vaguely realised that no one made the sound, not even the Betas from the table dared to so much as squeak. Neither did Charlie. He almost jumped out of his skin when a hand touched his back. He turned his head to half-heartedly glare at Charlize, partly thankful for giving him an excuse to break eye contact first. She knew it too and shook her head, not meeting the Alpha’s searing stare. He hadn’t spoken a word today and was already exhausted. It was almost impressive how this was his daily routine. The next part would be the appearance of two more Alphas that absolutely hated their guts. As if on cue, two more footsteps lazily trudged down the stairs, their fond smiles disappearing when Charlie and Charlize were spotted from their hiding. He could never differentiate between them before, especially since the Alphas are the exact same build with the exact same faces. If it weren’t for the different looks each werewolf cast his way, Charlie definitely would’ve been tempted to use permanent marker to differentiate them somehow. Jake — the eldest — gave his familiar nod, Charlize returned it. Jace looked at them coldly, not backing down from the glaring competition with Charlie. The five of them stood in silence, no one dared to move a muscle, or even blink. At least not Charlie and Jace. He’d be damned if he lost today. Jale was the one to break the heavy tension by walking away, with his Jace giving one last glare and following his little brother. Jake gave an apologetic nod, casting his eyes down stiffly, as if the very movement pained him to do so. Charlie winced, he could never get used to this part. An Alpha bowing his head in submission in front of an Omega. A part of him felt satisfied for making one of the most revered Alphas to submit, whilst the other wanted him to drop to his knees and beg Jake to never do so again. Charlize seemed to fidget beside him, sharing his uncomfortable situation. He sighed and finally made it to the end of breakfast and grabbed his bag for school.