Relief.

A ghost of the burning feeling that I had been living with for a week remained, but at least the pain was less. My wolf collapsed on the ground, taking shallow breaths. My punishment was over. 

"Son," I opened my eyes to my father, glancing down at me nervously, "Son, are you okay?" 

I nodded my head. Okay? I was hardly okay after wearing a silver collar for a week and leashed to a pole in the front of the packhouse, but my father worried, and he shouldn't have. 

"Can you shift, or are you too weak?" his question was well-meant, but it pissed my wolf off. he didn't like the implication that we were weak. He pushed my skin forward even though we should have rested for a day before shifting. My body strained and ached from disuse. And my father held a bottle of water to my mouth. 

"What..." my voice was strained and rough after a week of being in wolf form. 

"I know the alpha said a month leashed and collared, but the attack is happening today, and I suggested that instead of leaving you here, you could be the one who drives the overflow pups and women to the secondary shelter" I gave him a stern look as a warrior it was an insult to my skill to have me move the children instead of being on the front lines "I know it is an embarrassment, but it is better than that collar, right?" 

"Now?" I tried to stand, but my dad needed to support me. I wasn't sure that this insult was better than being collared. At least collared, the other warriors would see that I was taking my punishment as a man. Now, they would think I bargained, a coward way out. 

"yes, now." he supported my weight as he walked me to the three 12-person vans filling up with women and children who didn't fit in the main safe house. My brother ran up to us, two bags in hand. 

"Dad, I brought McCoy some clothes," my brother Taylor shouted. I leaned on the van for support as I dressed. "so, do I get to go with you, Dad, and fight like a warrior?" 

"Son, you are only 15," my dad responded. In the werewolf community, regardless of the age, you shift. You are considered a child until you are 16. Taylor was too young to fight. 

"But Dad, I will be 16 in a month," he whined, wanting so much to be grown but not understanding what it meant. 

"you will be in this van with your brother. Do you understand me?" my father declared. With his tail between his legs, Taylor climbed into the passenger seat. "I know you hate it, but I am glad both of you will be away from this fight." 

"I may disagree with this battle happening, but Dad, they are only nymphs. What damage could they do?" my dad didn't answer me. He just moved me to the car's driver's seat next to Taylor. 

"Look, bro, I got all the necessary snacks." Taylor showed me an abundance of chips, candy, and soda, which he had in the bags. 

"you know this isn't a road trip, right?" I raised my brow at him.

"that is a road, and this is a vehicle, so snacks are necessary; plus, you never know when you will get hungry," he answered. 

"right," I looked forward as I drove out of the main pack area. Warriors were getting ready, running to positions and leaders for orders. No one minded the vans as they moved through. The only person who looked back was my dad, who nodded to my brother and me.