Mean Streak (BoyxBoy Werewolf Story)

Chapter 3: Harder to Breathe

Beck

I think I'm marked for death.

I heard the warrior who spared with me had to get stitches on his head because of the injury I inadvertently caused on him. He's fuming now, itching to have his way with me.

And I don't mean that in a sexy way. Not that I want anything to do with him. Plus, he's already mated to a woman.

No, I meant in the sense that if he fights me once again, he'll be gunning to kill me. It's highly offensive for him to have lost to me, a non shifter.

When I say offensive, I mean for his pride. No one really cares about what happens during training except for other warriors and my father.

People in the reservation have more important stuff to worry about, like putting food on the table. Make sure their families are taken care of.

But for him that hurt his pride. Especially in front of the Chief. My father barely acknowledged the fact to me, only making me train harder like somehow it's gonna toughen me up.

I'm already forced to be tough, if you ask me. In fact, all I ever want is to be less tough now and enjoy my final year as a carefree teenager before senior classes start.

Unfortunately, I'm only wishful thinking. There's no enjoying any free time for me. My schedule basically consists of me waking up, having breakfast, spending all day with my father, then returning home for dinner and sleep.

I cannot believe my high school friends are having the time of their lives doing whatever while I have to learn and train.

I wish to Goddess that wasn't my reality. And now with this looming threat over my head, that's just the cherry on top of an already horrible cake.

I highly doubt he is actually going to kill me. Not that he is not able to, but I'm still the chief's only son. But accidents happen, just like the one he had yesterday.

Except mine could be deadly. And purposeful.

Anyway, it is what it is. I have to face the music and wish for the best. I can't show fear otherwise it gets worse for me. Werewolves can smell fear and like a predator, the stronger it scents on you the eager it'll be to kill you. I'm not kidding.

It's a battle like any else, even if you're outnumbered or outgunned, you still have to put up a strong front. I learned from History classes - and the occasional movie - that a soldier's moral on the battlefield is just as important in order to face the enemy.

I mean, he needs to believe he can win the fight even before he picks up the sword. Or else the battle is already lost.

My morning starts with breakfast in the kitchen where my parents seem estranged from each other. My mother is still not sleeping with my father.

She wants me to not spend all my available time by his side, but he's adamant I should learn the ropes, whether I want to or not.

In all honesty, I couldn't think of a worse job for me than to be chief of the tribe. It's not because I'm weak or soft, or can't take up arms if necessary.

I'm neither of those things and am perfectly capable of defending myself. The problem is I don't want to. This is the 21st Century.

There are even native american influencers on social media. I follow a couple of them on TikTok.

My point being there's more to life and I wanna explore it. Some things that aren't related to my origin or even to the fact that I'm a werewolf, in the broad sense of the word at least.