Chapter 24: Chapter 24

“Stop laughing!”

“Sorry…” Millan coughs to hide his smile not very effectively. “Right. Sorry. I’m serious now.”

Axel Brook grunts and rolls his eyes. “You’re extremely irritating, you know that?”

Millan smiles, ignoring the hurt in his jaw. “It’s why I got banned. By my own father. The one you plan to use me against.” He said as if he was talking to a really stupid three year old kid.

Axel Brook shrugs. “I bet he doesn’t hate you as much as you think.”

Millan snorts.

“When I was eight, I told him I wanted to travel, he told me that if I ever stepped foot outside the territory, I’d better not show my face again. When I told him my uncle, his brother, raped me during my first heat, he just laughed, and told me to get over myself. When he caught me stealing suppressants to avoid another heat, he sentenced me to a public whipping.”

Millan looked at Axel Brook and held his gaze, conveying that he is serious. “I am telling you, Alpha Travis Caelan wants nothing to do with me.”

For a moment, it feels like they’re having a staring contest as Axel Brook tries to know if Millan is telling the truth.

“Well, if what you said turns out be true, I’ll just kill you.”

Millan doesn’t break eye contact and Axel Brook grins before turning away and finally, finally, to Millan’s great relief, leaving with the two guards in tow.

Millan swallows. He has to get out of here now.

As he goes for the key in his shoe, he is suddenly startled by a tap at a small window on the other side of the room.

He gapes as a magnificent black wolf breaks open the window and winces as the broken glass echoes in the empty room.

Millan is surprised to see him trying to fit his gigantic body through it. And being successful. He’s also floored when he recognizes the scent and well, the all black wolf is easy to recognize as well.

“Weston? What the hell?”

He’s not even totally shifted yet when Weston starts to chew Millan's ears off.

“You insane infuriating little omega wolf. Honestly, Millan! Never ever pull something like this ever again! You had me so fucking worried! I cannot believe you!”

Weston is still venting when Millan passes him the key to the cell through the bars. He’s still venting as he turns the key in the lock and frees Millan.

His voice softens though when he pulls Millan closely into his arms, hugging him tightly.

“Seriously, Millan, promise me you’ll never put yourself in danger like this ever again. I can’t take it. You’re too important. Promise me.”

Millan squeezes back just as tightly and swallows the lump in his throat, trying to clear his voice.

“Promise.” It comes out barely a whisper and Millan wonders if Weston even heard him.

To Millan's dismay, Weston breaks the hug.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Millan nods.

He can agree with that but how the hell is he going to sneak to the shore now?

*****

Already shifted to their wolf form, a mile away from Brook’s Headquarters, Millan hears distant footsteps and heavy breaths closing in.

Werewolves are catching up.

A thrill goes through Millan's spine, adrenaline kicking in. Hurrying his steps and dodging a low branch, he makes sure Weston’s black wolf stays by his side.

Instinctively, he goes for the same path he’d taken to rescue Jace, but he senses Weston pulling him further West.

A simple nod, an eye movement and they both take the same sharp turn, effectively losing their pursuers for a moment. He is amazed by how in tuned his wolf is to Weston’s. A little more and they’d be reading each other’s minds.

He’s never experienced that kind of intimate synchronicity before. He tries to contain his wolf’s excitement, tries not to feed this irrational hope that Weston would be happy with him as a mate.

Sure he’d seemed worried about Millan, relieved to see him even, but that’s most certainly Weston being his kind usual self.

Even if he felt anything for Millan, that’s not his choice. It’s this stupid Fated Mate thing.

Then again, Weston’s wolf is giving him those looks, deep and lively, sometimes concerned, making sure Millan is following and it’s just… confusing.

As one of Brook's betas approaches closer behind them, Weston puts himself between Millan and the other wolf.

It’s absolutely unnecessary since they’re both faster and more agile than the other wolf, but the small gesture still spreads warmth in Millan's heart.

As they approach the border, Millan's eyes widen. There, just meters away, endless rows of armored werewolves are standing like solid pillars.

Ahead of them, a buff werewolf in a solemn uniform is standing just as still. An emotionless statue.

As they come into sight however, there’s a slight relief on the werewolf’s shoulders. Shifting back to their human forms, Millan's mouth hangs open as he takes in the amount of soldiers before him.

He has traveled through a lot of land but he’s never seen such a force deployed before.

He is glad to see Jace, looking all right all things considered, although Andy is apparently helping him stand upright.

“The hour is almost up. We were preparing to charge.”

Preparing to charge?

The werewolf’s stare is almost accusatory, Weston only smiles and shrugs, unbothered.

“Sorry, Grant. Headquarters was further away than I thought it would be.”

Guilt.

Guilt overpowers everything else and that’s all Millan can feel the whole way back.

It’s only now hitting him.

Weston risked so much just to get him back.

The Alpha could have gotten killed. Soldiers could have lost their lives. They could have started a war.

Weston was prepared to do that.

Just to get Millan back.

It’s insane.

And not okay.

Millan isn’t worth it.

He can’t believe Weston isn’t seeing that.

As the Head Alpha of a big pack, he should put the pack first.

Always.

Not Millan. Never Millan.

He has to leave.

Blinking doesn’t make the sting behind his eyes go away. Swallowing doesn’t make the lump in his throat disappear.

As soon as they enter the main house, Millan is ready to bolt to his bedroom, open his window and escape to the shore, unnoticed.

He has to relieve Weston of this insanity.

He has to release the Blayne Pack off of Millan.

It’s the right thing to do.

“And where do you think you’re going now?”

A gentle hand on Millan's arm, Weston’s blocking his way up the stairs.

“I… umm. My room?”

“Millan. We need to talk.”

What good is talking when they both know he has to leave?

He can’t do goodbyes, he’s shit at those, it’ll only hurt more.

“Weston…”

“Not negotiable. Come on.”