Loving Him With Pain

The Sinner

The pack buzzed with murmurs and scattered conversations as everyone gathered in the center.

Alphas stood in tight-knit groups, heads held high, while the betas hovered nearby, waiting for directions.

The omegas lingered at the edges, their chatter hushed.

Jerome’s presence silenced the crowd instantly.

He strode onto the makeshift stage, his commanding aura gripping everyone’s attention.

Without hesitation, he stepped up to the podium and surveyed the crowd.

Clearing his throat, he began, his voice resonating across the pack. "Good morning, everyone. I trust you’ve all been briefed on why we’re gathered here today."

He paused, letting his words settle in the heavy silence. "The environmental cleanup of our pack grounds is not just a task—it’s a duty. A reflection of our collective discipline and unity as a pack."

A few heads nodded. Jerome shifted slightly, his tone growing sharper. "Now, before I get into the specifics… Arthur," he said, his voice rising as he searched the crowd, "how far have you gone with clearing the old logs at the northern border?

Are we behind schedule?"

A tall alpha stepped forward hesitantly, bowing his head slightly.

"Alpha Jerome, we’ve cleared most of the area, but the larger trunks will need more manpower. I was about to request assistance."

Jerome nodded curtly. "Good. Make sure it’s done by the end of the day. Alphas in your team will assist. If they’re slacking, report back to me."

He let his gaze linger on Arthur for a moment longer before addressing the rest of the crowd.

"Let me be clear. This cleanup is not optional. It is our responsibility. Alphas will handle the heavy tasks—moving logs, clearing debris, anything that requires strength.

Betas will assist as needed." He turned his attention to the group of omegas standing at the edge. "Omegas, your duties are equally important.

You’ll be assigned to smaller tasks—organizing tools, gathering trash, and clearing smaller debris from the paths. I expect you to work efficiently and not waste time.

I don’t want to hear complaints about neglected duties."

Do I make myself clear?"

Yes Alpha the crowd responded with murmurs of acknowledgment, heads nodding.

Jerome looked around briefly. "Is that clear?"

A few voices muttered, "Yes, Alpha."

He nodded once, satisfied, and stepped back. "Dismissed."

As the crowd began to disperse slowly, a voice piped up from a cluster of betas.

"Hey, has anyone seen the sinner?" The words carried a sharp edge, making heads turn.

Murmurs rippled through the group, faces scanning the pack members.

At the far edge of the gathering, Katie raised her hand hesitantly, her movements slow as if weighed down by the attention.

"There she is," another voice muttered, followed by scattered whispers.

Jerome’s eyes landed on Katie briefly. His gaze was unreadable—cold, detached. Without a word, he turned and walked away, leaving the crowd to part in his wake.

Katie exhaled shakily, lowering her hand. Before she could fully process the moment, a girl approached her, face pinched with disdain. A broom was thrust into Katie’s hands with a loud clatter.

"You. Sweep here," the girl barked, not bothering to mask her hostility. "And when you’re done, Madam Ellen said you should report to the kitchen. We’ll be handling the storeroom. Make sure you don’t mess up."

Katie nodded, her voice steady despite the sinking feeling in her chest. "Okay. No problem."

The girl scoffed, flipping her hair before walking off, her steps unnecessarily dramatic. Katie let out a soft sigh, clutching the broom. She bent to start sweeping, the bristles scratching against the ground.

Lost in her task, she didn’t notice James until his shadow loomed over her. "Katie," his voice was soft, almost hesitant.

She straightened, blinking up at him. "Oh. Hello, James."

"Do you… need help with that?" His eyes darted to the broom, then back to her face.

Katie shook her head quickly. "No, thank you. I can handle it." She bent down to pick up the broom again, only to wince as a sharp pain shot through her thumb.

James frowned. "What happened?"

"It’s nothing," she mumbled, cradling her hand instinctively.

James stepped closer, concern etched on his face. "Let me see."

"No, really, it’s—"

"Your fingers are bleeding," he cut her off gently, gesturing to the thin streak of red trailing down her thumb. "Come on, sit over there. I’ll help you."

Katie hesitated, glancing at the broom. The pain throbbed persistently, and she finally nodded. "Okay."

James led her to a nearby bench, his grip light but steady. Once she sat, he knelt in front of her, carefully taking her hand. His fingers were warm, steady, as he inspected the wound.

"It’s deep," he murmured, pressing around the area lightly. Katie winced, biting back a gasp.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "I almost got it. Hold still."

She watched him, her breath hitching when the splinter shifted. "Ow—wait, did it—?"

"No," James muttered, frowning. "It went back in. Hold on."

Katie clenched her teeth, tears pricking her eyes. "Maybe I should just—"

"I’ve got it," James interrupted, his tone firm but kind. He pressed again, his focus unwavering.

"Almost there. Don’t move."

Katie turned her gaze away, trying to distract herself from the pain.

Her eyes scanned the pack ground aimlessly—until they landed on something in the far corner.

Her breath hitched, her heart sinking like a stone.

Her gaze froze, and the pain in her hand dulled in comparison to the ache spreading through her chest.