Chapter 7 The Test Of Worth
The first light of dawn crept slowly through the cracks of the old cabin window. It was soft and golden, painting faint patterns across the rough wooden floor. The air smelled of dew and pine, cool and heavy with the quiet rhythm of morning. From somewhere outside came the distant sound of wolves howling, their voices echoing through the valley in haunting harmony.
Alberto stirred beneath the worn blanket, his body aching from restless sleep. His dreams had been a tangle of confusion and memory, the fragments of the night before flickering in his mind like broken glass. He had seen Fernando’s face, stern and silent, and Darius’s eyes filled with anger. Then came the sound of his own heartbeat pounding as he fell beneath the weight of Darius’s strike.
He groaned softly, pressing a hand to his stomach where the pain still lingered. It was a dull ache now, fading but stubborn. He turned his face into the pillow, wishing for a few more moments of silence before the world demanded his attention again.
But the world did not wait.
The door creaked open, followed by the heavy rhythm of boots against the wooden floor. Alberto tensed immediately, his body stiffening in instinctive response. He turned his head, blinking against the light that poured in as the curtain was pulled aside.
Darius stood there, tall and composed, his silhouette framed by the morning glow. His expression was calm, not the mask of fury Alberto had come to expect. The sunlight caught on his dark hair and the faint scars that marked his forearms. He looked every bit the warrior that he was, yet something in his demeanor was different today.
Alberto shot to his feet so quickly that the blanket slid off the bed and tangled around his ankles. He stumbled but caught himself before falling. His eyes dropped to the floor.
“I’m sorry, Beta Darius,” he said quickly, his voice rough from sleep. “I should’ve been awake already. I didn’t mean to—”
Darius lifted a hand, stopping him mid-sentence.
“No need for that,” he said, his tone steady but softer than usual. His eyes studied Alberto for a moment, taking in the bruise that still shadowed his cheek, the faint stiffness in his movements. “You’re not the one who should be apologizing.”
Alberto froze. His mind took a moment to process what he had heard. He glanced up uncertainly, meeting Darius’s gaze for a fleeting moment before looking away again.
Darius stepped closer, his boots silent against the floor. When he was close enough, he reached out and rested a hand on Alberto’s shoulder. The touch was firm but not harsh.
“I was wrong yesterday,” he said quietly. “I spoke and acted out of pride. You didn’t deserve what happened.”
Alberto blinked, his heart skipping. He had imagined many things after that night but never this. He opened his mouth, words tangled on his tongue.
“I should be the one to apologize,” he managed at last. “I caused trouble. I worried the Alpha and you. I failed to—”
Darius’s grip tightened slightly, not in threat but in emphasis. “Stop blaming yourself, Alberto.”
The sound of his name spoken without anger felt strange, unfamiliar. Alberto’s chest tightened, a faint warmth rising to his face.
Darius drew back, letting his hand fall. The silence between them was not uncomfortable but heavy, like air before rain. Finally, Darius moved toward the table and pulled out a folded paper from the stack there.
“You’re exempted from training today,” he said, his tone returning to that of command. “The Alpha wants you to rest.”
Alberto’s head snapped up. His voice came out rushed and panicked. “No, please, I can train. I’m fine.”
Darius turned, brows furrowing. “You can barely stand straight without wincing.”
“That’s nothing,” Alberto said quickly. His voice trembled but his resolve did not. “I want to train. I want to be strong. I don’t want to waste what was spent on me.”
The words came out sharper than he meant them to. He could hear the bitterness in his own tone, the shame that had been festering deep inside him since the day he arrived in this pack. Bought. That word always echoed in his mind like a curse. Every meal he ate, every night he slept under this roof, he knew it was because of a transaction that placed value on his life.
Darius studied him quietly, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You think you need to earn your place through pain.”
“I need to prove I deserve to be here,” Alberto replied, his voice low but steady. “I’m not like the others. I wasn’t born into this pack. I was bought like an object. I can’t forget that.”
Darius took a slow breath, his expression unreadable. The sunlight had grown stronger, pouring over his shoulders and lighting the faint scars on his neck.
“You’re more stubborn than I thought,” he said finally.
Alberto lowered his gaze again. “I only want to be useful.”
The Beta walked to the window and looked out for a long moment. The pack courtyard was alive with movement now. Wolves were already sparring, their bodies fluid and precise. The sound of wooden weapons clashing carried faintly through the glass.
Darius turned back to Alberto, his mind made up.
“If you truly want to prove your worth,” he said slowly, “then there’s something you can do.”
Alberto’s eyes lifted with cautious hope. “What is it?”
A small smile ghosted across Darius’s lips. “A test. A mission. Something simple in theory but not in execution.”
Alberto straightened. “Tell me what it is.”
Darius crossed his arms. “There are rogues in the southern woods, near the old border. They’ve been stirring trouble, stealing supplies, disrupting trade routes. We believe they’re working with someone outside the valley.”
Alberto listened carefully, his heart beginning to race.
“Last week,” Darius continued, “one of our scouts reported that the rogues are keeping documents in their camp. We don’t know what they contain, but the Alpha suspects they hold information about their allies and routes. We need those papers before they move again.”
He paused, watching Alberto’s reaction.
“If you’re so determined to prove yourself, then you’ll go there and retrieve them. Alone.”
Alberto’s eyes widened. “Alone?”
Darius nodded once. “It’s not far. You’ll travel by foot through the forest path. You’ll reach their territory by sundown if you move carefully. The rogues won’t expect a lone wolf, and that’s your advantage.”
Alberto’s mind raced. He had never been given a task like this before. He had trained, observed, followed orders, but never been trusted with something of this scale. The risk was clear. Rogues did not show mercy to intruders. But the thought of proving his worth burned brighter than fear.
“I’ll do it,” he said without hesitation.
Darius raised a brow. “You should think before you speak.”
“I have thought,” Alberto replied. “If this will show that I’m not weak, I’ll do it.”
Darius studied him again, his expression a mix of approval and something close to worry. He moved toward the desk, pulling out a small map and spreading it across the surface.
“Then listen carefully. The rogue camp is hidden near the southern ridge, close to the river bend. You’ll follow the trail past the ash grove. Don’t take the main path. They have scouts watching. You’ll move at dusk, when the shadows are long.”
Alberto stepped closer, his eyes tracing the lines on the map.
“Once you reach the camp,” Darius continued, “you must find the largest tent. That’s where they keep what we need. The documents will be sealed in a leather pouch. Don’t open it. Don’t linger. Take it and return before dawn.”
He looked up. “Understand?”
Alberto nodded. “Yes, Beta Darius.”
Darius folded the map and handed it to him. Then he rested a hand briefly on Alberto’s shoulder again. His voice lowered.
“You don’t need to die to prove your worth. If it becomes too dangerous, you run. Do you hear me?”
Alberto nodded again, though inside he had already made another promise he would not fail, no matter the cost.
Darius stepped back, watching him with quiet calculation. For the first time since Alberto had come to the pack, the Beta saw something in his eyes that was not fear. It was resolve.
“You have until tomorrow night,” Darius said. “Return before the moon reaches its highest point.”
“I will,” Alberto answered.
Darius turned toward the door, his hand resting briefly on the frame. He hesitated before speaking again.
“And Alberto,” he said without looking back, “I meant what I said earlier. I was wrong about you.”
The younger man stood frozen, unsure how to respond. By the time he found his voice, Darius had already left, the door closing softly behind him.
The room was quiet again. Alberto stood for a long time, staring at the folded map in his hands. The morning light continued to spill across the floor, warm and golden. His fingers tightened around the paper.
He could feel his pulse quicken, the mix of fear and determination swelling inside him. This was his chance perhaps his only one to show that he was more than what they believed him to be.
He moved toward the small chest by his bed and began gathering what little he had. A worn cloak, a knife, a strip of dried meat, a flask of water. He tied them together neatly, every movement deliberate. His body still ached, but his mind was sharper than it had been in days.
When he was ready, he folded the map once more and tucked it into his belt. He stood by the window for a moment, looking out at the world beyond the pack’s walls. The forest stretched endlessly, green and shadowed, whispering secrets only wolves could hear. Somewhere in that wilderness lay his test, his chance to rise.
He drew a slow breath and whispered to himself, “I won’t fail.”