After I left Colonel Armstrong's office, I was feeling so relieved,

I know I have dodged a bullet by not being kicked out of the tournament and, consequently, the castle. My father must be looking down at me today, content to have one of his soldiers save his son from a bind.

Goddess knows anybody else would have just easily discarded me and be done with it without a second thought. I am fully aware of how lucky I am to be protected by someone who served under my father. It has been almost twenty years since he left the military, so I definitely did not expect to find anybody who even remembered him let alone served under him. That was a lucky break if I ever saw one.

I oriented myself by scent to return to the East Wing, navigating countless corridors the soldier had taken me through earlier. When I swiped my badge to enter the room, uncle Damian was anxiously waiting to find out my fate, though he already knew I was screwed either way. There was zero chance of me getting away with that.

Even my roommate Colin was looking apprehensive, though we had met only an hour ago. By now, my uncle would have already told him of what happened earlier when he was showing me around the castle. Damian got up from my bed and stared at me intensely.

"When do we have to leave? Would they let you at least sleep here tonight and depart tomorrow?" He asked me, anxiously. He already anticipated the worst possible news cause he is old enough to know what happens when you cross powerful people.

"I met the Colonel in charge of this castle. After a tongue lashing of his own, he agreed to let me apologize to the crown prince the next time I see him and that I shouldn't leave the tournament so soon." I told him, putting him out of his misery. He looked like he was about to have a heart attack - as I could hear his heartbeats galloping. Colin was also shocked by this news.

"Really? How did you manage to convince him to go against the crown prince of the United States?" Damian was baffled to learn this outcome, properly shaken to the core. In fact, if he did not know any better, he would think I was lying to him.

"I didn't. As luck would have it, he served under dad in the battle of Monterrey." I informed him, feeling as relieved to still be here as he was. Though judging by his reaction, he seems to have a more vested interest in me being here than I do.

Two decades ago, tensions were running high on the southern border with Mexico. Our neighbor wanted to take back the state of Texas - eyeing its land rich in oil - so they invaded us, funneling soldiers and armory through the town of Monterrei - one of the largest cities in Mexico.

The King naturally sent his troops to defend Texas, despite facing incredible odds. The Mexicans were prepared and well-equipped to face us. My father was a lieutenant back then and his platoon was responsible for the biggest upset in recent history. In a daring move that no one would've predicted, they struck the Mexican soldiers from within, eventually gaining back terrain and after reinforcements arrived, they were able to take back control of the border, killing whoever was on our territory in the process.

Because of their incredible success, the King decorated his entire platoon of soldiers - those who didn't survive had their medals sent to their next of kin - and that is when he decided to award my father with the leadership of a city of his own. He made my father an Alpha - he was not born one, far from it - and despatched him to take charge of his own pack.

Had he remained in the armed forces, he would probably be a general right now. Or even the Secretary of Defense, who knows.

Damian gave me a tight hug, feeling a massive relief to hear that. He even whispered:

'Thank you, brother.'

He rarely mentions his older brother, even to his family. Everything I heard from their childhood in Mobile, Alabama, I had to pry it out of him when we were alone.

"Congratulations on staying, Bradley. I'm glad to be able to count you as my roommate. I'm not used to sleeping alone anyway, I have four siblings." Colin shook my hand, feeling happy for me, which was nice.

"FOUR!" I gaped at him in shock.

"Yeah... papa sure likes mama, despite their grievances." He muttered under his breath, his gaze was fixed and absent of intention. I think he was reminiscing something.

"And you're the heir? Why didn't he come here with you?" Damian asked him, sounding intrigued. I imagine this is an auspicious moment, so any parent would have liked to be here for this. Especially if they had never been to the Capital before.

"No, sir. He could never spare my older brother to come here in this futile tournament." He raised his tone, using self-deprecating humor when he said the word 'futile'. As if he did not matter to his father.

"If he thinks it's futile, why did he send you here?" Damian asked him, intrigued by his argument. Colin stood still, silent for a minute, contemplating what to say to that. He was absorbed in a painful realization for way too long. Meanwhile, Damian and I exchanged a curious glance, puzzled as to what he meant by that.

"I think Papa expects me to get killed during the tournament. This way, he would have one less mouth to feed." He finally told us, sorrowfully. I was heartbroken to hear that.

"I'm sure that's not true. He must think you have the capability to win this tournament if he sent you to the Capital. No one said it's a life or death battle." Damian argued, feeling sorry for him but at the same time not wanting him to contaminate my enthusiasm for the upcoming tournament.

"No offense, mister. But everyone back at home thinks this tournament was only put together because the King wants to legitimize putting his nephew as the heir to the crown. No one actually believes a commoner will ever wear the crown." He spoke with his country accent that I found so familiar to hear.

I looked at my uncle after he said that, who looked appalled by what he was saying as if that was news to him. It isn't. As a matter of fact, it was even in the papers before we arrived here today. He is not saying anything new to us, to me.

"The King doesn't need anyone's permission to legitimize his nephew as the heir to the crown. That is a gross misconception about the most powerful monarch of the world." Damian argued in a serious tone. He offered Colin a hug because he seemed to be needing one, being left alone here.

I sympathized with him. I love my family, but I do feel alone in the world sometimes. Especially without being mated.

"Can I ask you a question?" I addressed my roommate, curious about something though I probably already knew the answer to what I was about to ask him. He nodded in agreement.

"Are you mated?"

This seemed to have caused him a lot of pain. Well, I can relate to him, to an extension. I am far from being the oldest werewolf ever to be unmated. Even my dad and uncle were mated older than I am now.

Colin wept as he answered and it was breaking my heart.

"No, I'm not. Papa says that the Goddess wouldn't waste a mate pairing on me since I'm gonna get killed in the tournament anyway." He sobbed, feeling the weight of his father's words.

I really don't like his father. What kind of a person says something like that to their child? Oh, my Goddess!

Damian comforted Colin with his fatherly figure while I too spoke him words of encouragement. I told him he had every right to make his own fortune and if his father doesn't see worth in him, then it was up to him to prove him wrong. Everyone has the right to be mated. Every werewolf is worthy in the eyes of the Moon Goddess.

Just not the royal family, I think. Had the King been mated, he would definitely have a bunch of children right now and none of this would be necessary. Now let us see if I can scavenge a mate in the mix of all these people here. Fingers crossed.

A|N: What a classic for the ages!

I almost wouldn't think to put it here, but I am glad I did.

Not all men should be fathers, that is the truth.

And the harrowing truth will only be darker from now on.

Love,

Léo.