The Darkest Star

Ch. 11 Breaking Curfew

Azrael stared down at the phone that was on the verge of being crushed. He tossed it on the table and tried to ignore Roland and Liam who he knew was staring at him. Probably in shock from what they'd heard him say. Azrael cleared his throat and stood.

"I need to go for a run." He murmured, already removing his shirt from his itching skin that came from his need to shift.

"Dude, you know we can't, we have curfew." Liam spoke up, following Azrael to the door.

"That's why I'm going alone." He didn't mean for it to come out as a growl but it did. Liam reached for him without thinking, trying to stop him from breaking the rules. Azrael flashed his sharp canines at the male who dropped his hand back to his side

"I don't understand." Liam huffed, brows furrowed. "Why'd you say that shit to the kid?"

"Because he's an asshole." Roland said lowly, shocking the both of them. Azrael glanced at the big male to see him flipping through a book. Sweat was starting to slide down Azrael's temple from holding back his wolf, his chest tightening painfully.

Knowing he wouldn't be able to stop himself from shifting, Azrael left his friends in their shared room.

He couldn't get outside fast enough and when he finally did, he didn't care to pull his remaining clothes off. He was already running towards the forest and shifting without pause.

Azrael let his wolf take control, putting his human conscious in the back of his mind. It was easier to let instinct guide him, to become the animal. The wolf only knew one way to express itself, and so he howled, releasing the pint up emotions that weighed heavily on his chest. Only stopping when the pain became easier to ignore.

He ran until he was panting and could go no further. He could sense others around, the wolves on patrol that would contact the enforcer about a Wolf breaking curfew. He couldn't find it within himself to care. The large brown wolf paced, turning up dirt with his claws and growling at nothing and everything but mostly at himself. His muscles were tense and ready to spring. Not hungry enough to hunt and no real threat to fight, there was no way for him to expel the anger building within.

He snorted, shaking his fur as if to rid himself of the words he had spoken over the phone. His growl turning into a pitiful whimper as he remembered the little black haired human. Dropping down with a huff, he curled his tail around himself. He knew the boy was hurt, he probably hated him now. The wolf couldn't have that, he'd rather die. There had to be some way for him to fix his humans mistakes. Maybe he could just tell Salem how much of an idiot his Human is.

It wasn't long before he heard the sound of heavy paws beating against the forest ground. The wolf gave control back to Azrael who deserved whatever punishment he got.

At large dark gray wolf burst through the foliage and Azrael was surprised to see that it wasn't the Enforcer.

The Alpha growled but not threateningly, it was a show of his displeasure. Azrael knew there'd be repercussions for breaking curfew, they were very strict about that with those in training. Azrael had always followed the rules so he really didn't know what would happen. His uncle barked, the deep sound intentional and not the playful sound of a dog.

Azrael shifted before he angered the Alpha who shifted with him.

"It's not surprising when someone breaks curfew this time of the year but it is surprising that it's you, Azrael." Alpha Yarrick Revella of the West Point Pack is his mother's oldest brother. Azrael could see the family resemblance in their blonde hair, tan skin and hazel eyes. When they'd arrived, he wasn't expecting to see the male waiting for him at the airport and had no idea about his father's plans for him. Where he'd thought he'd be spending the next four years living in a dorm surrounded by humans, he was really spending four years attending college while also undergoing the intensive training designed for those of only the highest rank. Not many were accepted into the course but it was clear Azrael wasn't your regular Alpha. His father thought he was too strong for his wolf to go unchecked. It needed to be honed and shaped, his father had told him over the phone.

Azrael didn't care to think of a response for his uncle. Instead he crossed his arms and clenched his jaw. The older male chuckled, signaling for Azrael to follow him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked. Azrael shook his head. "Good. Don't think because you're family that your getting out of your punishment. If anything, I'm going to be harder on you."

His uncle wasn't bluffing and had Azrael run the expanse of his pack's territory three times without shifting. By the end of it, Azrael was covered in mud from where it'd started raining and was trying not to pass out from exhaustion. That wasn't the end of his punishment. His uncle instead had him stand in the armory and clean the weapons until the male was satisfied. Azrael took apart so many guns that his fingers felt numb and he was moving on muscle memory alone.

Somehow, no matter how occupied his mind was and no matter how many times he told himself it was a good thing to be here, his wolf still brought forth memories of unique gray-blue eyes and smooth olive skin. Azrael knew what his wolf was trying to tell him. He also knew that it was impossible. Salem was a boy and everything he'd been taught proved that his wolf was wrong. His denial was making his wolf resent him, becoming angrier with each passing day. There was nothing he could do about that though. Even if he wanted to. He had another three years of school and who knew how many years of training until his father was satisfied.

Azrael knew he needed to forget about the beautiful boy who caught his wolf's attention and focus on what was going on here and now. He had to work on becoming as strong as he possibly could, not just for himself but for the pack that was counting on him to someday lead them.