Chapter 22: Chapter 22

Hand on the doorknob of the back door, backpack into place, a wavering determination on his face, Millan completely freezes, to the point of holding his breath and turns around.

Weston is standing by the doorway, arms crossed… looking intimidating as hell.

Amir is on his side, eyes puffy and red, Andy supporting him and looking just as bad as his brother.

Millan feels a pang of guilt in his guts, he clutches the doorknob tighter.

“I’m so sorry, Amir. I’m going to rectify this, I promise.”

Amir’s eyebrows furrow.

Millan thinks he’ll yell at him. He have every right to be mad, Millan would be.

Instead, Amir launches and hugs him so tight it’s hard to breathe.

“You idiot. I’m not mad at you and you don’t have to do shit.”

“You don’t understand, Amir, it’s my fault-“

“It’s not. It’s really not.”

Amir pulls away from the hug but keeps his hands on Millan's shoulders. His red rimmed eyes study him for a while and Millan tries not to squirm.

“You’re still going to do something stupid, aren’t you?”

Millan pulls away, gently pushing Amir’s hands off his shoulders.

“I’m going to go and get Jace.” Millan ignores the shocked and pained expression on Andy’s face.

“No. Millan, you’re not doing that.” Weston’s voice is deep and demanding, teetering on the verge of Alpha Command.

“Weston, listen, I- “

Weston takes a step towards him, uncrossing his arms, anger visible on his face, his golden eyes flaming.

“No, Millan. There’s nothing to listen to. There is simply no way that you’re going to get Jace back.”

“Weston, I’m a rogue which means I can cross the border without feeling a thing, I know how to stay undetected.”

Weston keeps shaking his head from side to side, infuriating Millan.

“I know how to track Jace’s scent down and if anybody knows how to escape a dangerous situation, it’s me. I’m getting Jace.”

His back to the door still, Millan turns the handle, hoping Weston won’t see the movement.

“Millan, do not open that door!”

Silence falls, heavy as a brick.

The Alpha Command makes Amir whimper and drop to his knees. Even Andy bows his head in a show of submission to the Head Alpha.

Millan freezes having a hard time ignoring the deep voice.

He hasn’t struggled against a command like this since he was eleven. The internal debate only lasts for a few seconds.

Millan manages to keep his head high and turns around to leave. As he opens the door though, he twists his head to meet Weston’s furious eyes.

“Don’t you dare Alpha Command me.”

Millan doesn’t let Weston respond, closes the door behind him and runs ignoring his omega’s protests at the blatant rebellion, choosing to focus on saving Jace instead.

*****

Crossing the border is harder than predicted with Alphas and Betas patrolling everywhere, probably waiting to see if Millan will show up.

Creating a fire further away for diversion, he crosses a broad river, fighting the strong current and holding his precious backpack over his head.

Fortunately, despite their numbers, Brook Pack is still as stupid as the first time he met them, making it easy to hide from patrols and guards as he makes his way to their Headquarters.

In no time, the pompously enormous manor stands before him, every entrance heavily guarded.

As expected, Millan's nose picks up Jace’s distinctive scent amidst other less familiar ones.

He also picks up Axel Brook's scent, an arrogant lavender and rose tinted stench.

Millan rolls his eyes, floral scents are the worse.

Avoiding the guards at the doors, he spots an open window on the second floor. Bricks on the wall offer him decent climbing holds and he doesn’t hesitate before making his way up.

The sound of footsteps underneath makes him freeze for a second.

Guards. Just around the corner, probably patrolling the manor’s walls.

Maybe Millan underestimated Brook Pack.

“Fuck”. The swear escapes his lips in a whisper.

Millan climbs faster, ignoring the vertiginous emptiness between him and the floor. He’s just getting over the edge of the window when he hears the guard’s voices getting louder, right below him.

He can only hope they haven’t spotted him, but doesn’t wait to find out, examining the bedroom he’s gotten into instead.

There’s an adjoined bathroom where the shower is running. The door to the corridor is wide opened, Jace’s scent is coming from below.

The basement maybe.

He quickly and silently hides behind the wall next to the door. There aren’t nearly as many werewolves living in Headquarters here as there are in the Blayne Pack.

Millan can even count the number of different scents he can pick up.

With Jace, there aren’t more than six. Judging his path clear, he doesn’t wait longer before crossing the corridor to the narrow staircase.

Dodging other werewolves’ presence is surprisingly easy. It’s evident nobody expects him to be here.

Passing by the kitchen, he even takes the time to steal a cookie from a jar as Axel Brook and his family- Millan assumes from the mingling scents- eat at the dining table in the next room.

It’s almost too easy when he gets to the small cell Jace is currently sleeping in.

The bruises littering his body are visible and profuse.

Millan's heart clenches with guilt.

None of this would have happened if it weren’t for his stay at the Blayne Pack. As Millan approaches the cell, Jace stirs awake.

“Mornin’ Jace. Cookie?”

At the sound, Jace jolts up, wincing and grabbing his sides right after. His eyes widen when he sees Millan on the other side of the bars.

“Millan? What the hell are you doing here?”

Seemingly forgetting about the pain on his sides, he gets up hurriedly, standing right in front of Millan.

“Are you completely insane?”

“Nice to see you too, buddy.”

“You really shouldn’t be here. It’s exactly what that asshole wants.”

“Well, tough. I’m here and I’m getting you out. Now take the cookie and tell me where they keep the keys.”

Jace opens his mouth and closes it, eyebrows furrowed as if to argue. After rubbing his face with his hands, Jace nods, resigned.

He takes the cookie from Millan's outstretched hand, biting into it gratefully.

“Jace, the keys?”

“Right. They’re on the guards. On their belts.”

Millan sighs, frustrated and examines the lock. It isn’t too complicated. Picking it would be easier than stealing from a guard.

He fumbles in his bag under Jace’s scrutinizing gaze and retrieves a set of small tension wrenches he’s used countless times to get out of difficult situations like these.

Jace’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise while Millan expertly gets to work, choosing the right wrench and inserting it gently in the key hole.

It doesn’t take too long before they hear a satisfying click.

“I have so many questions right now.”

The impressed stare Jace is giving him quickly makes Millan uncomfortable.

“Escape now, questions later.”

Jace nods and Millan is glad he won’t be there to actually answer questions since he plans on making a beeline for the shore, happy to forgo goodbyes as soon as Jace is out of trouble.

Millan leads the way into the house, Jace following closely. They’ve made it to a window on the first floor when Millan smells it.

Obnoxious lavender.

“Go first. We have to be quick. Just run to the forest, I’ll be right behind you.”

“Millan?”

“Go!”

To Millan's relief, Jace doesn’t hesitate too long and jumps on the exact moment heavy steps resonate behind him. It doesn’t take a minute for the room to be filled with a flowery smell that Millan wants to puke.

“I must say, I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to deliver yourself to me that easy.”

The bulky hands of a guard grab Millan's arms and turn him around. Sure enough, Axel Brook is standing right there, smiling giddily.

Millan swallows and licks his suddenly very dry lips.

He’s fucked.

*****

Weston stands in total shock as Millan slams the door behind him.

He’s not proud of using Alpha Command on his Fated Mate, but Millan can be so infuriatingly stubborn.

Now though, he’s something else, blatantly ignoring the alpha voice when even Amir is still recovering from it.

How?

But damn if Weston isn’t proud. He just hopes it wasn’t in this situation where Millan could endanger himself.

Weston needs to sit him down and make him answer every questions he has because they’re starting to pile up.

He also needs to get Millan back here before he gets himself killed.

Finally swinging into action, he sprints for the door, right behind Millan. He’s surprised when both Amir and Andy yank him back.

“What the- let me go!”

Turning around, he tries to push Amir and Andy off but Amir’s sobs make him stop abruptly.

“Amir?”

“Please, Weston, I’m begging you. Let him get Jace back. Please.”

Weston’s eyes widen. He looks at Andy questioningly only to be met with begging eyes holding a similar expression to Amir’s.

“You can’t be serious.” Weston deflates, conflicted.

They can’t possibly consider this.

“Weston, we’re begging you. Millan is right. He’s probably the most qualified to get Jace back. He can trace his scent, he can pass the border easily. And it’s better to be subtle about it, right? We don’t want to barge in with all our military forces, we’d declare open war.”

Andy’s voice is shaky.

Andy’s voice is never shaky.

Inhaling deeply, hands on his hips, Weston shakes his head and looks at the closed door.

He can feel Millan's nervousness. But he can also feel his determination.

Weston can’t believe he’s actually considering this.