Consequences for Madison

CHAPTER 2

TRAINING

(Madison's pov)

Getting dressed for training, I have come accustomed to wearing leggings and a sports bra. My bruises are mostly on my legs because even a drunk Dale knows visible bruises would cause unwanted attention.

Like most days, I left my house before the sun rises and arrived at the pack house to greet the friendly omegas working in the kitchen allowing me time to prepare the training group’s water and snacks before going on a run with my wolf Amelia.

Amelia is a beautiful wolf with light brown guard hairs and a white undercoat that showcases her silver eyes. My bloodlines give her size and strengths that are compared to most alphas while her quickness and intensity have made her one of our pack’s strongest wolves.

As the yin to my yan, I try to keep her happy by giving control of a daily run to let her stretch her legs and embrace nature. Joining our trainings is not always an option for Amelia because of her dominance and the fact that she needs to battle with our Beta or Alpha to avoid injuring others.

After completing my prep work and a quick paced 10-mile run, I sat among the wolves who participate in the grueling workouts prepared by our future Beta Jackson and future Alpha Mathias.

Morning trainings are geared for the elite warriors; however, I was given permission about a year ago to participate. I’ll never question Alpha Payton's decision to include me because I continue to learn advanced techniques and I arrive to the training field before Dale wakes up.

Our pack has just over two dozen female elite warriors because the distinction is only given to wolves once they have turned 18 years old. I’m not an elite warrior, but my involvement in morning trainings has never been questioned due to my extreme work ethic and dominating results.

ANOTHER BROTHER

(Madison's pov)

After enduring the strenuous trainings, I continue my daily routine of showering in my best friend Jackson’s bathroom then dress in sweats or black leggings with a large sweatshirt. Enjoying delicious breakfasts, a kitchen omega named Sally, likes to toss me an apple as I grab my backpack heading out the door prepared for another day at school.

Riding with Jackson in his jeep, our mornings consist of music battles as I act as the DJ trying to convert him to country music. He prefers loud obnoxious rock and would never admit to liking country, but I’ve caught him more than once mouthing the words and bobbing his head to hits by Chris Janson and Morgan Wallen.

Our relationship is unique, with most people thinking we are mates. Being two months younger than him, we have always gotten along especially growing up as two of the top fighters in our age group. We finish each other's sentences, know what the other is thinking and know when a hug is better than any spoken words.

He's also best friends with our pack's future Alpha, Mathias, who has never had the time of day to acknowledge me, but their friendship does not interfere with my relationship with Jackson. Mathias and I have a rocky past, he avoids training with me because when we were younger, I forced him into submission.

His dad, our Alpha, forced him to train in extra sessions as a punishment to teach him a lesson that alphas should never lose. Alpha Payton did not care that I have alpha blood, he just hated his son losing to a female.

Jackson and I got closer after he started dating my sister Johanna. They were together for almost two years until she met her mate. It broke Jackson's heart because he was in love with her, but he’s never treated me differently, in fact we’ve became closer over the years, like sister and brother.

As one of our pack’s up and coming top warrior and with his dad as the current Beta (second in command of the pack), Jackson continues to push me harder giving me one-on-one instruction that continues to improve my fighting techniques and logistical strategies.

He believes my bloodline allows me to be a fierce fighter and a strong leader. I follow his lead because I like his company, I'm competitive and I hate when people disregard me for being a female.

When my best friends, Victor and Lilith, are busy with their leadership trainings, Jackson and I are always together, that is when he’s not getting pulled into meetings with his dad or when he's sneaking off to entertain a w***e.

Jackson has become quite the ladies’ man or so I’ve been told. I've never witnessed that part of him. To me, he’s just Jackson. I've always liked the fact that I can be myself around him without judgment.

Our friendship has never been weird or included s****l tension, but he has mentioned more than once that he needs to protect me. I insist I can protect myself because I don’t like relying on others.

I will admit that Jackson has also been my savior especially when I need breaks from my stepdad's abuse. More than once Jackson insisted that I crashed on his couch while he tried to cheer me up saying, "Surviving your stepdad only toughens you up."

PROTECTING THE WEAK

(Madison's pov)

Pulling up to the school parking lot, “Maddy, try to keep your nose clean today, okay?” Jackson reminded me with a punch to my shoulder and a smile like he knew something was brewing. I gave him a smirk then replied as we walked into the front courtyard, “I can’t make promises.”

Wrapping his arm around my shoulder and kissing the top of my head, the day was off to a good start even though I was entering a corrupt institution of socialites.

As I started to walk towards my first period class and away from Jackson, I turned and added, “Maybe you should talk to your w****s, they’re the ones causing problems.” He laughed as two desperate females stopped in front of him demanding his attention.

I shook my head remembering his comment comparing me to his w****s, “They might warm my bed for a brief moment, but I’ll only parade around town with you by my side.”

Today is one of those typical days where I keep to myself and look forward to running into one of my best friends in the halls. On my way to class, I paused when I saw an omega with her head held down in a submissive stance while being pushed against the lockers. The w***e of the school, Whitney, was standing over her.

My anger ignited and my claws started to break through my skin. "We must protect," my wolf, Amelia, growled. Without hesitation, I walked up and punched Whitney in the jaw, causing her to drop to the ground. I probably should have said something first, but I really don’t like her and she’s always causing problems.

Bones cracked and blood splattered as Whitney rolled onto her back. Her minions stared at me, then stepped back unsure what to do when their leader was on the ground whimpering.

I walked up to the omega, recognizing her as one of the kitchen helpers, and whispered, “Are you okay, Sally?” The shaken girl nodded her head. Lifting her chin, a tear rolled down her cheeks.

With everyone I protect, I always offer support, “Don’t let anyone treat you like this. Come to trainings and I’ll teach you how to protect yourself.” Omegas were considered the servants of our pack and rarely encouraged to attend trainings. A rule I’d change to require mandatory training for every wolf, that is, if I was in charge.

Sally cracked a smile in the corner of her lips. Placing my hand on her shoulder, she gave me a hug then quickly walked to her next class. I turned around and found a crowd watching the circus act with phones recording like we were on a Hollywood set. Minions and their social media, ugh.

Whitney climbed up to her feet and towered over me, but I was not afraid because I knew she was weak. Her filthy mouth was her only weapon, so she directed her attack on me, commenting as she scanned the crowd, “Oh, what do we have here? Garbage girl is protecting the help again?”

The crowd broke out into cheers as Whitney took a step towards me, looking down and adding, “You are a nobody in our pack, no one will miss you if you disappear, so why don't you leave?”

Hearing her words did little to my anger. In fact, I was able to control my breathing and act calm even though Amelia was getting restless and wanted out. Whitney’s tantrums were entertaining, but also pathetic.