His Mate, His Enemy

Blood trailed from Alfred's nose. He knew that it would heal soon, but the pain was still terrible. He coughed and spluttered as he pushed off the floor and onto his feet. Furthermore, he stared at the young man who was looking at him with a sneer on his face. Alfred knew his father was watching, judging every movement, every punch and every kick. The man shot out his fist, but Alfred knew that it was a feint, it showed in the way the man shifted his weight and Alfred kicked the side of his left knee the reached under the man's armpit and threw him to the ground. Alfred knew that his father would be expecting a kick that would probably crush the man's rib cage, but Alfred just stood there, not really being able to summon the courage to do anything. "Alfred!" His father barked, and he turned to stare at the brown eyes which pierced through him. "Come," he said then turned away. Alfred felt like his legs had become jelly in his boots. He followed his father into the building and up the staircase into his father's study which was a mostly empty space with just a table, a few books and maps and a laptop. Alpha Frederick, alpha of the Blood fang pack, was one of the most ruthless men that Alfred knew. He towered at 6'6", broad chested and with a face that was more suited for deep scowls than smiles. Alfred had only seen him smile a few times and those had been in the presence of his wife and Alfred's mother, long dead. "What was that performance out there?" Frederick asked quietly. His voice never rose, never shook or trembled with emotion. It was always flat and steady in a way that sent chills down Alfred's spine. "I am sorry, father. I let him get the better of me for a while. It was because of my incompetence and I shall work on it," he said. Frederick turned to look at him for a while and Alfred half expected a slap which was the norm when his father was annoyed. Instead, the man shook his head then sat in a chair. "When I was your age, I was already the alpha of this pack, of the Blood fang pack, which is the most powerful pack in existence. I was already leading and strategizing and believe me when I say that there was and is no werewolf that could beat me. I was not there, throwing myself on the ground for pups with no spine on their backs or balls between their legs," he snapped. Alfred stood perfectly still, his heart throbbing wildly against his chest. He breathed deeply, trying to calm it, but it seemed to worsen. Alfred knew his father had sensed it. The man's face curled in disgust. "Father?" A voice said from the door and Alfred resisted the urge to turn. It was a punishable crime to his father. Marcus stepped into the room, tall and broad-shouldered with a neatly trimmed beard. He wore an immaculately tailored suit and his hair was tied back, away from his yellow eyes. Alfred noticed the change in his father, the relaxation of posture and the way that he leaned slightly forward. Alfred wondered if his father realized that his favoritism was so blatant, it was as though he wore it on his head. "I just spoke with the other Alphas, and they have agreed to meet with the Witcher clans. It was a bit difficult getting some of them to agree but…they finally saw reason," he said as he sat in a chair opposite their father then lit a cigarette which he pulled from his pocket. "Very good. It is a distasteful thing to have peace with those filthy creatures that have been hunting us for centuries, but I suppose that is the way it will be for now, until we have neutralized this threat, and they seem to be suffering as well, so it is a mutual goal," he said then nodded to himself repeatedly and rubbed the tip of his nose. He looked at his wine cabinet like he wanted to drink then turned away, losing interest. "I think that some of them might just be doing this because if their fear for you but either way, we have ti hurry it along before they start pushing even more, and we have a rebellion on our hands," he said. "I don't care what they might do. This is for all of us and anyone who says different or betrays me will be crushed to dust and forgotten," he said then looked back at Alfred who stood there, his eyes on the wall behind his father. It always made him uncomfortable to look into his father's eyes. "You will come to the meeting with us. I feel that I have coddled you for too long, and it is time that you see what leadership really means," he said. Alfred nodded. Marcus winked at him and said nothing as he walked away. Alfred sank into his bed, his body still sweaty, and he blew breath through puffed cheeks. This was how it was, day after day. He had to fight, train and study the history of his pack and the other packs. He saw the way they had manipulated governments and the great purge that saw many werewolves dead in the hands of witchers. To think they were going to make peace with them was one of the most far-fetched things he could ever imagine. He sighed and rolled over on his bed, picking up his phone. He scrolled a little, looking at a few things that took his interest, but he never had any friends to text or anything to actually look at on his phone which he knew was monitored by his father. Furthermore, he soon shut his eyes and went to sleep in time for night patrols which he would be leading. His eyes opened just as the blade came at him. He reached up and yanked it from the air. He could hear Marcus' laughter, and he slowly pulled himself up then growled at him. "Easy there, pup. What is the matter? Can't take a little joke?" Marcus asked. He was wearing a black, long sleeved turtle-neck that hugged his powerful body, and he was wearing loose, gray joggers. "Throwing a knife at my face is not a little joke, Marc," he said and Marcus shook his head. "Father is right about you, ya know? You are soft," he said. "I am not soft," "Oh yeah?" "Yeah," Alfred snapped. "Then tell me why exactly you did not pummel that man good when you knocked him down. That was a sign of weakness, something that no werewolf should have," Marcus said. Alfred shrugged. "I mean…he was already down and stuff. Why would I go on beating him. Isn't that…wrong?" He asked. Marcus stared at him for a long time with a half smile on his face then he shook his head. "Ah Alfred. Mm, you know that you will be coming with us to the meeting, yes? When we get there, there will be no word out of you, nothing at all. You will observe, remain silent and when the time comes, father will make a decision that you should not question. It will startle you but do not question it. Do you understand me?" He asked. Alfred was about to say something, but he saw there was no point to it. He shrugged. "Alright," he said. Marcus nodded then walked away. "Keep the dagger. You are off night patrol tonight. I have not had a good run in weeks," he said then walked away. Alfred massaged a headache from being woken suddenly. He lay back down on his bed and shut his eyes, glad that he would be able to sleep all night.