four - ways to fight

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The next morning, Louis woke up alone in Harry's bed. The spot where the curly-haired boy had once laid was cold, indicating that Harry was already long gone. Sunlight shone brightly through the open window, and a lazy smile tugged at Louis's lips; Harry always slept better with a light breeze from outside sneaking into the room.

And he always slept better with Louis beside him.

Louis groaned loudly as he stretched, then rolled out of bed. He had the day off from training after their assignment last night, but he had promised his father that he would check in at the recruiting center. Even with all of their alphas already training to fight, their numbers were dwindling; the army needed more betas and omegas to volunteer, even if it wasn't necessarily their required duty to the pack.

He didn't bother to change his clothes; he was still in his typical soldier's uniform, even if it was slightly wrinkled from sleeping in it. Without a second thought, he just pulled on his light jacket and headed out the door onto the already-bustling main street. He offered a few hellos and good mornings to some familiar faces as he made his way down the street, but before too long, he had arrived at his destination.

The recruiting center was a sad and scary place. Most people who volunteered for the army simply had nothing else to do, or no other talents to offer besides their bodies. Many werewolves lived for the approval and acceptance of their pack, and it made Louis upset to think that pure desperation and loneliness was the main motivation for joining their armed forces.

The lines were already long, spilling out the front door and looping around the outside of the building. Louis checked his watch, surprised to find that it was only just past nine in the morning. He skipped the line and entered the small building; fortunately, most people moved aside at once when they saw him approaching. His status as a well-ranked soldier and the son of the head alpha came with those kinds of perks.

"And what skills can you offer the army?" the officer at the main table was asking, acting a bit too cold and condescending for Louis's liking.

Louis fought the urge to roll his eyes. Officers loved to exert their power over the rest of the pack, even though most of them had gained their positions through family connections rather than any actual skills or accomplishments. The army needed the numbers, so it really didn't matter what kind of talents or abilities the recruits had. If they had already presented and could control their inner wolves, that was plenty for them to be useful in the war.

Then the boy at the front of the line started to speak, and Louis's senses flipped into high alert. His alpha growled protectively, and he started pushing toward the front, ignoring the glares that the other potential recruits shot his way.

"I've worked as a healer since I was twelve years old," the curly-haired boy was explaining. "I'm only sixteen, but I'm sure I'll present soon. Even so, my healing abilities have nothing to do with my wolf, so I have a lot to offer."

"He won't be volunteering for anything," Louis's voice boomed dominantly through the crowded room. Harry whirled around, his eyes widening in surprise as the older boy stalked angrily toward the table.

"Oh, Tomlinson. Are you his . . ?" the officer began, already eying the bare skin where Harry's mate mark might someday be displayed.

"It doesn't matter what I am to him," Louis kept his tone firm and professional, taking advantage of his status as a well-known soldier and the future head-alpha of the pack. "His extensive knowledge of healing is needed here in town. If he tries to come back and volunteer again, you will turn him away and inform me immediately," he ordered coldly.

"Louis! You can't --" With a single hard glare from Louis, Harry lost his voice, the words catching on the lump in his throat before he could speak them into existence.

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