Chapter 161: The Weight of a Name

Chapter 161: The Weight of a Name
Zade’s POV

The moment Archlight Academy’s councilors finished giving their verdict, I already knew there was no saving my name. They didn’t have to drag me in front of the entire student body, but they did. I stood there like some trophy lesson, a reminder of what happens to any student foolish enough to follow the path I had chosen.

I didn’t argue, I didn’t defend myself. I just breathed through it, trying not to show how every word hit deep into me. When they finally handed me the sealed suspension letter, I took it without looking at anyone. I only wanted to get out of that hall before my eyes burst out with tears from shame.

But if there’s anything I’ve learned in this life, it’s that a bad day will always find a way to get worse.

And mine got worse the second I stepped outside and saw my stepbrother Damian. The golden boy of the family, the Alpha, the one my mother brags about, the one who never fails. The one who takes everything without even trying.

Our eyes met, and my heart boiled. My fists tightened on their own.

“Stop panting like a wounded lion, boy,” Damian said, his voice sounding annoying. “Just go home, go meet your Papa.”

“Watch it,” I snapped.

“Ouch,” he replied with a mocking smile. “No one told me cats can roar now.”

I glared at him, fighting the urge to tackle him right there. Instead, I walked away, because if I stayed a second longer, I would do something that would probably get me expelled for real.

But even as I left, the anger wouldn’t settle. I couldn’t tell who it was directed at anymore. If it was Damian for always being better, myself for thinking I could ever be equal to an Alpha overnight, or my dad for filling my head with promises that led nowhere.

Or maybe all of them and maybe everything.

“Ahhhhhh....” I shouted into the air the moment I was far away from the school. The scream left my throat, but it didn’t stop the storm inside me.

By the time I reached home, my mother stood at the doorway, waiting. She opened her arms like she had been counting the seconds to my arrival.

My mother is not a bad person. I would never say that, but seeing her there looking worried, looking soft, made something change inside of me. Maybe it was sadness, maybe disappointment, or possibly both.

If I were like Hana, maybe things would be different. Dad never pressures Hana. She’s free, gentle, careless even. My mother treats her like a precious stone. Sometimes I wonder if my mother wanted a daughter instead of a son like me.

I exhaled and walked past her.

“Aren’t you going to at least say hi to your mother?” she asked softly.

But before I could speak, my father’s voice thundered from the staircase.

“Say hi to which mother?” he snapped. “The one who wasn’t interested in bringing Zade home, or the one who followed me to Archlight Academy to see her beloved Damian?”

“That is not true,” my mother said sharply.

“Really?” My father smiled, but it wasn’t a nice smile. “So you didn’t go to see Damian?”

“Yes, I did, but....”

“No ‘but.’” His voice cut through the room. “We went there for Zade, not Damian.”

I stood silently, watching my mother crumble into quiet tears. It hurt more than I expected. Not because my father was shouting at her, but because I hated being the reason she cried, yet part of me wanted her to see the truth too.

She wiped her face and left the living room without a word.

I let out a long breath. The constant fighting in this house was exhausting. I just wanted to go upstairs and sleep until my brain shut down. But my father called my name before I made it to the last step.

“Zade.”

His tone meant onlybone thing, I wasn’t getting out of this.

“Come sit here,” he said, pointing at the space beside him on the couch.

I didn’t argue. When it comes to my father, obedience feels like the only acceptable response. I sat slowly, bracing myself.

“Don’t think this fight is over,” he said the moment I settled.

“What?” I frowned.

“What is what?” my father shot back.

“You think this fight is over?” he repeated, eyes narrowing.

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. So after everything, after coming close to expulsion, he still wanted me to continue his rivalry?

My father leaned back and folded his arms. “Zade, my son, brave people don’t give up. You must fight until the end.”

I stared at him. He spoke with so much conviction, but all I felt was tired.

“That’s why you are a man, Zade.” His voice dropped lower, almost gentle. “You must attack again.”

My eyes widened. “Dad…..”

“Yes,” he said with a quiet smirk. “And this time, we strike Damian.”

The words hit me like a slap.

“But why?” I asked, my voice barely steady. “What has he done?”

My father scoffed. “What hasn’t he done? Zade, listen to me carefully. That boy is living your life. Everything he enjoys, your mother’s affection, the Academy’s respect, the admiration of the pack, it should have been yours.”

I wanted to deny it, I wanted to tell him he was wrong. But a part of me, the part I hate with so much passion, wondered if he was truly right.

“Even your own mother has no love for you,” he said slowly. “Everything she has, she gives to Damian.”

I swallowed hard. I hated how those words dug into me because deep down, I had thought the same thing.

“So you must strike,” he continued. “Before it is too late.”

“Dad,” My voice came out weak. “He’s my brother.”

My father’s expression hardened. “Anyone who becomes a wall standing in front of your greatness is not a brother. He is an obstacle, and obstacles must be removed. Put emotions aside, and fight like a man.”

I didn’t answer immediately. My fingers trembled, from confusion, about who I was, who I wanted to be, and who my father was trying to turn me into.

All my life, I had been chasing shadows, Damian’s achievements, my father’s expectations, the version of myself I wished I could be. And now, sitting here with a suspension letter in my pocket and my father telling me to destroy my own brother, I didn’t know which path was mine anymore.

What if I’m not the son he wants?

I'm just tired of all of this?

But my father didn’t care about what I felt. He leaned closer, eyes sharp.

“Zade,” he whispered, “you must win.”

I nodded slowly, not because I agreed, but because I didn’t know what else to do. In this house, nodding is the only thing that doesn’t start a war.

Inside me, though, I felt something different.

Without any further talk, I went upstairs afterward, my father’s words echoing with every step. My mother’s tears replayed in my mind. Damian’s mocking smile. The councilor’s verdict. The suspension letter still lying in my pocket.

I felt as though the world should just take me, because I was tired of living for my Dad.

I need to live my own life.