Chapter 21: Chapter 21

“This is insane, you can’t do this!”

“Watch me.” The composure of Travis Caelan as he tears apart everything Millan holds dear in his life is astonishing.

Even his mother looks shocked.

“Honey, please think about this. Surely we can work something out. This is-”

The Alpha doesn’t even have to use a commanding voice or say anything at all, his glare is enough to shut his wife’s objections.

She turns to Millan with tears in her eyes, defeated.

The frightened omega has never seen such a big crowd before. Almost every wolf of the pack has responded to the Alpha’s call to watch the inhabitual event unfold.

They’re all staring as the imposing leader towers over the small werewolf.

Normally so rebellious, Millan can’t do anything but shrink under the weight of everybody’s gaze, unshed tears in his eyes.

“Millan, since the day you gained the ability to talk, you’ve been a disappointment. Not only to your mother and I, but to the entire pack. I can no longer excuse your defiance. You’ve constantly disobeyed Alpha Commands, you’ve taken part in activities omegas should never take part in, you’re a disgrace and a defective omega and you’ve proven that time and time again. You’re an embarrassment to this pack and to me personally. For those reasons, I hereby declare you banned from the Caelan Pack. You are to leave the territory immediately and never come back.”

Gasps and shocked expressions don’t reach Millan's conscious mind.

He didn’t know banishment physically hurt that bad.

As soon as his father makes it official, his chest burns as if a piece of him crumbles completely. He feels like there’s a gaping hole where his heart should be.

The pain pins him into place, unable to make a move as he observes his family and friends turn around and leave.

Millan rattles awake and stares at the ceiling, hand rubbing his chest where a pack’s mark should be.

He sighs, exasperated with himself. As soon as Weston had left the room, sleep pulled him again as the Alpha’s scent surrounded him.

He wishes his brain would have an on and off switch so he could stop this current shit show of his worst memories appearing in his dreams.

A distinctive floral scent approaching the room suddenly makes him jolt out of bed.

Fuck. No way. Not a chance.

He won’t subject himself to another encounter with Dax if he can help it.

Not now.

He doesn’t hesitate before opening the window and shifting to his wolf form to jump out. As soon as his feet hit the ground below, he shifts back to his human form.

It’s in moments like these that he is grateful for his acute sense of smell. Avoiding the questions around why he was in Weston’s room is a bonus since he can’t even explain it to himself.

Now would have been a great time to hide his backpack somewhere in the woods, with the Council being occupied in a meeting and he’s pretty sure he isn’t being followed.

But he’d have to get back into the main house to get it and risk running into Dax so he just walks aimlessly.

Weston is distressed. Something’s not right.

Millan stops walking. His wolf is so agitated and it makes Millan's hands tremble.

What the…?

He keeps thinking that Weston is distressed, kept feeling it.

Why would he think that?

Why would he know that?

Millan continues his walk, trying to ignore his insane wolf, but he can’t. All he wants to do is find Weston and make sure he’s all right.

He can’t very well barge into a Council meeting just to verify Weston’s emotional state though.

THAT would be insane, right?

Right.

Besides, he has no clue where their meetings take place.

As he walks by the hospital though, his wolf gets more and more rattled.

Millan stops at the doors.

Weston’s in there.

And distressed.

He’s sure of it.

Millan's eyes widen, fear crushing his chest and any logical restrain he might have had before.

Did something happen to Weston?

Panicked, Millan enters and puts his nose to work.

Weston’s scent is easy to track down...

*****

“I don’t know, Weston. We need to think about this.”

“Think about what, Grant? About delivering Millan to an angry archaic and barbaric pack of wolves?”

“No, but I’m just saying, they’ve threatened to go to war over this. To kill Jace! This is serious. And Millan is an omega rogue who we’ve only known for a week. The protection of the pack should come first.”

“Millan is not just some Omega Rogue. He is Weston’s Fated Mate, you idiot.”

“Amara is right, Grant. If something happens to Millan, Weston will be greatly affected. He might not be pack right now, but it is only a matter of time.”

Weston is so grateful for his grandfather right this second.

“Look, all I know is we have a choice to make. Either our best Defense Commander, a big part of our pack or a Rogue that we’ve only just met. Yeah, you might be in love and all, but pack comes first. Always has, always will.”

“Grant!” Amara’s shocked expression would be comical if the situation wasn’t so grave.

“A Fated Mate’s bond is an extremely complex thing, Grant. Their souls are connected, if not officially bonded. They are soul mates. We’ve never had to deal with that in our pack before but Weston might never get over this. We need to protect our Alpha too. As well as our Alpha’s Mate.”

Grant seems floored by the argument Malakai has presented him with. Still, Weston is annoyed that they’re even considering the possibility of complying with Axel Brook's demand.

“The fact that Millan is my Fated Mate shouldn’t even play a role in our discussion. He is a werewolf with feelings, just like us, and it would be barbaric to just sacrifice him. Besides, what would that accomplish? Axel Brook has been threatening us with an open war for the better part of his ruling anyway. The reason why he has never actually attacked us is evident. Because we are stronger. Simple as that. We will get Jace back and Millan will stay right here.”

Every member of the Council nods, seeming to agree with Weston’s statement although their nod is less vigorous.

*****

Millan's head is spinning.

Fated Mate? Soul Mate?

Killing Jace?

Deliver him to Axel Brook?

What. The. Hell. Is. Going. On.

*****

The grass absorbs Millan's hurried steps on his shortcut between the hospital and the main house.

From the start, this place was too good for him.

Millan didn’t deserve this much care and kindness, still doesn’t.

He stayed anyway and stupidly got attached. In a matter of days, Millan managed to put Jace in danger and distraught the whole pack with his own selfishness and cowardice.

Swallowing thickly, he thinks of Andy and Amir’s certain worry over their second brother.

Andy, who showed nothing but kindness to him from the start. The gentle Alpha who coaxed him out of that dilapidated and run down cabin.

Amir, who empathized with him and the first person who gave him a hug after a very long while.

And now, Jace is gone.

Jace, who nags at him, but accompanies him almost everyday.

Guilt and shame redden his face while entering the main house.

As always, wolves are milling about, puppies playing everywhere, chattering in the kitchen, wolves on top of each other lounging in the living room, watching movies.

Millan passes by the domestic scenes and does not dwell on how happy the werewolves in this pack always look. He doesn’t dwell on how everyone clearly belongs there while he, unquestionably, does not.

His eyes sting entering his room.

Not his room, a guest room.

Weston’s voice resonates in his mind repeatedly. “Millan is my Fated Mate”.

The idea is simply laughable.

Of course his wolf is craving an Alpha like Weston, kind and tolerant, but still strong and dominant.

Of course he is constantly seeking Weston’s scent, it’s just soothing when his wolf has been denied a pack and an alpha for so long. For the same reason, it’s only logical that his wolf would preen under any kind of attention Weston gives him.

Millan's wolf is undeniably attracted to Weston and it’s probably extremely evident to everyone in the pack already. Even his human side is entranced by him, how he looks, how he treats his pack, how he moves, even the way he smooths his hair with his hand. How big his hands are…

Millan coughs and shakes his head, trying to focus on assembling his stuff, gathered around his room.

He can’t deny the pull he feels towards Weston, but Fated Mates?

That would mean Weston feels the same way about him which is absolutely laughable and frankly, impossible.

Weston is the perfect Alpha, caring but firm, gaining respect from his pack without even having to raise his voice.

Now that Millan thinks about it, he’s yet to see Weston use Alpha Command. He’s so young too and probably has every omega in the pack crawling at his feet for every little bit of attention they can get.

Someone like that would never look at Millan twice.

No. If they ARE Fated Mates, then Weston must hate him.

Millan would.

How could the worst omega that has ever lived be bonded to one of the best Alphas?

Defiant, rebellious, mischievous, strong headed- he’s everything an omega shouldn’t be.

There’s just no doubt that Weston hates his wolf for recognizing Millan. And what’s worse is Millan can’t blame him.

Blinking rapidly, trying to lessen the sting behind his eyes, he closes his backpack with a bit of difficulty, hands trembling.

The plan now is simple: get Jace back and sail to the Eastern Lands.

If Axel Brook kills him, so be it.

If he dies in the middle of the ocean, so be it.

Millan can’t bring himself to care anymore.

Truth is, he’s exhausted.

If his wolf took over, he’d probably be dead in a week.

He hasn’t really lived for years anyway, hardly holding on to his existence, never really belonging anywhere.

Leaving Weston behind might be the nail in the coffin.

Unfortunately for him, when you really care for someone, you have to be strong enough to let them go.

Staying would be selfish. He’d be a burden to Weston, incapable of helping him lead the pack as a Head Alpha’s Mate should, never really submitting and bringing trouble to the entire pack.

He should leave now. Bringing Jace back is the only good thing he can do for this pack’s kindness, then he will leave and never return.

Millan walked quietly until he reaches his destination and took a deep breath before reaching out his hand forward.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”