Jaxson
I used to let my brother win.
We grew up playing as an Alpha, like our shared father, but we played two very different games. He was a tyrant, never leaving mercy for the pretend members of his pack, daring them to slaughter and torture any one who even considered challenging him.
I just wanted to establish a community, a pack for all, like my mother envisioned. I suppose my father sat somewhere between our fantasy’s, living the life he had always dreamed as Alpha, as a king, but at the fault of commoner blood and torment. He never seemed to care once my mother passed away. He went cold, and in turn he bore a child who was just as hostile as he.
For a long time I pocketed the fact that Xander was an angry kid. I assumed I would be the Alpha, the king of the pack my father buil
