Blood moon

Chapter 81. Of Guilt

—Are you all right—Harold Halland asked, looking at his son with a blank stare.

—Why do you ask?— Hunter tried to hide it, he didn't want anything to know his thoughts, but his father had known him since he was born.

—Because you have a sad face— the older man answered simply.

—Well, I was thinking about something sad— he tried to deflect the subject because he wanted to keep his thoughts to himself —but we don't have to talk about any of that now— he put a hand on his father's shoulder.

—Harold knew that his son wasn't well right now and he didn't want him to feel that he had to hide his feelings, he was beginning to understand that Hunter was more sentimental than he thought, his son was a very sensitive man and he had to appreciate him for that.

—I just want to think things through a little better that's all, but if you're here it's for a reason, what is it? he was getting used to everyone needing something from him.

In the still of the night, Harley and Hunter's father, a man whose silver hair reflected wisdom and time, gazed up at the stars twinkling in the dark sky. The news that his youngest son, Hunter, had been chosen to lead the pack in a time of great tribulation echoed in his heart like an echo of the uncertainty that hung over them.

His thoughts travelled back in time, recalling the days of hunting and exploring with his sons in the fields and forests they loved so dearly. The eyes of their youngest son, Hunter, had sparkled with curiosity and a yearning to discover the world. Now, those same eyes were filled with the responsibility of leading his pack in a time of challenge and hardship.

Watching his son from afar, he could feel the emotions Hunter tried to hide. The burden of leading the pack in such a difficult time was weighing heavily on his shoulders, as if every worry and expectation had materialised into a tangible weight. The father could see the tension in his son's muscles, in the steady gaze that reflected the gravity of his position.

The same goddess who had blessed them with their werewolf nature had also meted out punishment, depriving the father and older brother of leading the pack at a crucial moment. This was a lesson that life had forced upon them, and the father felt it was his duty to help his youngest son cope.

The stars seemed to watch silently as the father struggled to find the right words to ease Hunter's burden. He wanted to convey to him his confidence in his ability to lead, in his strength and wisdom that he had already demonstrated in the past. He wanted to remind him that he was not alone, that the pack was united in its support.

The father's emotions were a mixture of pride and concern. Pride in the way Hunter had grown and matured, and in the responsibility he had bravely taken on. Concern for the stress he saw in his son's eyes, for the weight he carried on his shoulders, for the uncertainty of the road ahead.

As the wind rustled through the trees, the father approached Hunter and laid a hand on his shoulder. The words flowed from his heart with sincerity and love, reminding his son that leadership did not mean carrying all the weight alone. He reminded him that he had the strength of the pack by his side, the same pack that had chosen to trust him.

At that moment, the father felt a mixture of excitement. Excitement at the opportunity to watch his son grow and face challenges that shaped him further. Excitement for the trust the pack had placed in Hunter. And though the road would be difficult and full of trials, the father was sure his son would live up to the mantle of leadership, as a true descendant of the pack that had faced so much adversity over the years.

—The council can be a kick in the pants, especially since they want your coronation— the older man spoke, trying to ease his son's burden.

—Well they're like hyenas, they'll sell out anyone to get a piece of power— exclaimed Hunter with some resentment, he had experienced first hand, how idiotic they could be when they wanted to be.

—You're right, that's what I had to deal with, I hoped you didn't experience— the older man pointed out —everyone thinks being the boss is easy, but it was one of the reasons I drank, having blood on your hands is something that's hard to explain and experience, not everyone can understand that feeling.

The wind whispered ancient secrets as Hunter's eyes darkened with determination. His connection to the pack, to each of the wolves who trusted him, flowed like a river of wild energy.

The confrontation was intense, a fierce dance of claws and fangs that echoed with the fury of werewolves at war. Blood and sweat mingled in the air as Hunter fought with the instinct to protect his own. Every attack and defence was a declaration of his commitment to the safety and unity of his pack.

Hunter looked around, his breath coming in ragged gasps and his fur stained with the mark of battle. He was surrounded by the members of his pack, their eyes reflecting admiration and respect. The weight of responsibility weighed heavy on his shoulders, but he also felt a deep satisfaction at having defended his own with courage and determination.

The memory of that night was vivid in his mind.

—I know how you feel, son, not everyone has that feeling....

—Of guilt— his son interrupted him.

—That's why I wanted Harley to be in charge, because unlike us, he wouldn't make that decision, he would always look for any means to avoid it— they both fell silent knowing that was the reality.