Chapter 8

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Jai's POV

".....99........100"

I collapsed on my back, panting desperately for air. My heaving chest was hurting and my knees were threatening to give away. I looked up at a smiling Rishi.

"100 burpees. Not bad Bromega"

I didn't register his compliment I was too busy capturing oxygen for my tired limbs. Maybe it's for the best I don't train with the pack, cause this shit is hard.

"Cool off a bit then go inside and get breakfast. I'm off to the packhouse"

I have him a thumbs up as I pulled myself up from the ground and dragged myself inside. The sun was peaking through the clouds as I looked at my watch.

0600 hrs

It had been about a year since I asked my brother to train me since I wasn't allowed to train with the pack. He had graciously agreed to take out 3 hours from his day and whip me into a warrior.

I've found that to be easier said than done. My body's response to the intense regimen of exercises designed by Rishi was to shut down. But steadily I became accustomed to the exertion and the results shone on my frame. I gained weight and my muscles became more defined.

However my gains slowly plateaued. My body simply refused to put on more muscle no matter how vigorously I exercised. My punches still lacked power. I wasn't heavy enough to pin someone down. I was far from being a fighter.

I guess somethings hard work alone cannot guarantee. There was no way for me to overcome the physical limitations of being an omega. I just wouldn't ever win in a hand to hand combat.

I sighed as I drew a cup of yogurt from the fridge and sat down at the kitchen island. My breakfast of oats, fruit, eggs, protein shake and toast lay sprawled before me.

"Are you secretly an MMA fighter? Cause you sure eat like one"

My dad smiled at me from behind his newspaper. I ignored him and dove into what was more important; my food.

"Seriously though, why are you training so hard Jai?" He asked as he closed his paper directing all his attention to me.

"I want to be a fighter. And a fighter must train. You did"

"I'm a surgeon"

"But you did train didn't you? One should always be ready for the battlefield. Who knows what dangers lurk nearby?"

"Omegas don't fight." He said with his piercing gaze boring into my head.

"I will be able to soon"

"With what? 100 burpees? Most healthy wolves are at least able to do 200 on average. You can't go against biology"

I paused as his words sink in. I could feel the room around me spinning, as his words echoed in my brain.

You can't go against biology.

I didn't have a response to that. He was right, I wasn't built for fighting and would probably be useless on the battlefield. It was naieve to deny this eventuality.

"Jai look at me" My dad spoke to me in his Alpha tone, something he rarely did. I swung my head up real fast reflexively and my body was suddenly on high alert. I was on edge and I listened to his command. I was filled with anxiety and fear.

"You're not an Alpha so don't train like one. Accept that you're an Omega. Your gifts and capabilities are different. Learn more about them and focus on how you can employ them on the battlefield if you so desperately want to. But first make peace with who you are. With your fate."

He said as slid a book in front of me across the kitchen island.

The Complete Anthropology and Biology of an Omega Wolf

"An early birthday gift" he smiled and spoke in his usual voice, no longer projecting his Alpha on me. Immediately relief flooded through me, as my brain calmed down a bit. He was no longer an Alpha, just my dad. He was my father, his voice soothed my wolf.

I picked up the book and ran my hands over it. The cover looked aged and the pages were yellow but I appreciated it. My father was right again, much to my chagrin. I didn't know much about being an Omega, let alone a male Omega. I needed an education if I wanted to succeed in proving to my pack that I had worth after all.

No. Fuck the pack. To prove to myself beyond doubt that I was worthy.

And I think that's what dad meant as well.

"Thank you so much I love it" I beamed at my dad and got up to give him a hug.

This gift was a tacit approval from him. That I was fine the way I was. He wasn't good with words (unless it came to mom, then was was fucking Wordsworth), so this gesture was even more meaningful for me.

"Not before you take a bath. You smell like a pigsty" he yelled as he scrunched his nose at me. I was all sweaty and grimy from the training, so I guess he had a point.

But I didn't care.

"Deal with it old man."

And then i engulfed him in a hug.







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