Chapter 27: Chapter 27

“As a result, this report raises concerns and highlights the need for both the Legislative and Executive branches of the Council to proceed with caution on the implementation of the current situational plans…”

Weston has already read Grant’s report twice and it’s even more boring when read out loud. So he lets his mind wonder as the rest of the Council listens carefully to each and every word.

They’ve only been apart for an hour and Weston is already anxious to get back to Millan.

He didn’t seem too pleased with the resting order Nara had given him. Actually, Millan never seems too pleased with any order in any circumstances judging by the way he purses his lips and narrows his eyes every time.

By the way his nose crunches just a little with the movement and the way his hands close into cute little fists.

Millan is just so cute and so adorab-

“Weston, what are you smiling about?” Amir’s knowing smirk effectively sets Weston’s face back into seriousness.

“What? Nothing. I’m listening to Grant’s report, stop distracting me.”

“Mm-hmm.” Amir rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to Grant.

Weston tries to do the same but then he feels it.

Millan. Panicking.

The omega’s heartbeat has picked up. He’s scared.

It takes only a second before Weston is out the door, not bothering to excuse himself.

He vaguely hears his name yelled but he’s already running towards Millan.

Something’s wrong.

If Millan is that scared, something must be terribly wrong.

Weston tries to keep calm. He has to be there for him, he can’t be panicking too.

As soon as he kicks the door open however, Weston loses any composure he might have had left.

Millan is frantic, crying and hyperventilating.

Dax is leaning over him, trying to calm him down, but only making it worse.

“Millan? Will you just- Stop freaking out! Millan?”

It’s clear to Weston that when Dax leans closer, Millan's terror increases.

Weston is seeing red.

He grabs Dax by the collar and drags him away from Millan.

“What the FUCK did you do?”

Dax’s eyes were wide as he pathetically tries to get out of Weston’s hold.

“I don’t know! I touched his shoulder and he started freaking out. I haven’t done anything, I swear! He’s just- I don’t know… fucked up!”

If it weren’t for the pain radiating out of his omega at the moment, he might have ripped Dax’s head off. As it is now, his first priority is to comfort Millan.

“Get. Out.” The Alpha command doesn’t give Dax any choice and he obeys hastily.

Weston is at Millan's side in an instant.

The omega is still battling an invisible enemy, mumbling unintelligible words.

Every tear is like a stab in Weston’s heart. He tries to wipe them away, but new ones replace them immediately.

“Mill?… Come on love, please just tell me what’s wrong.”

It’s no use.

Millan is somewhere else. He’s worryingly pliant as Weston climbs into bed behind him, hoping to offer some comfort.

Millan always seems to relax best when he is scenting Weston, so the Alpha turns Millan's head towards the crook of his neck.

“Millan, love, I’m here. You’re safe, you’re okay.”

Millan is shaking. Weston’s hold tightens.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Millan's heartbeat slows down a little.

“Weston?”

“Yes, Mill, it’s me.”

Millan is sobbing now and all Weston can do is hold him, hoping, praying, and wishing that it’ll be enough.

“You’re safe, Mill. You’re safe. Let it out. You’re okay.”

It seems like hours before Millan fell asleep.

Weston doesn’t move, holding onto Millan as if his life depends on it.

And it did. It really did.

Millan holds his life now.

Weston’s heart, and everything that he is.

*****

The morning sun warms Millan's skin slightly, sending goose bumps down his arms.

The earth beneath his feet is still wet. Fog makes the trees look like they’re floating. Birds are chirping.

He isn’t sure what he’s doing here but it might be his favorite smell in the world.

Forest after rain. Cold air warming up. Wet leaves and grass.

Exhausted, Millan slowly realizes he isn’t really in the forest but simply engulfed in Weston’s arms. Which might be even better.

Then, recent events came rushing back to him rupturing his peaceful state.

Dax.

The smell of lavender.

His uncle.

Oh gosh, he overreacted, didn’t he?

As he tenses, Weston rubs soothing circles on his back and he sinks back into their embrace, sighing.

He knows Weston probably wants to talk about what happened.

Millan is just embarrassed that he created such a scene and wants to forget it ever happened. At the same time, leaving Weston’s arms would be like leaving a warm shower to go dive in the snow.

There’s nothing he would like less.

“Mill… what happened? Do you want to talk about it?“

Millan doesn’t. There’s nothing to talk about.

Dax touched him and he overreacted. Dax didn’t do anything wrong.

Millan is just a freak.

There’s really nothing to talk about.

“I hate flowers.”

Weston stops rubbing his back for a second, probably taken aback by Millan's abrupt change of subject.

“You hate… flowers?”

Weston resumes his soothing strokes.

When Millan looks up, head still resting on Weston’s shoulder, his eyes land on Weston’s jaw.

He can’t seem to look away. Millan doesn’t care. He decides he’s allowed to stare if he wants to.

After all, Weston is his Fated Mate, right?

“I hate flowers.” It comes out a whisper, still hypnotized by Weston’s jaw line, even when the Alpha turns to look at him.

“Okay. And… why is that, may I ask?”

Weston’s jaw is even more interesting to look at when it’s moving.

“They’re obnoxious.”

Millan pretends that Weston tilting his head slightly and smiling softly isn’t the cutest thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

“They are?”

There’s a dimple showing on Weston’s left cheek now.

Millan wants to touch it. So he does.

The touch makes the other dimple pop into existence as well, effectively blinding Millan with light.

“Yes, Weston. Flowers are obnoxious. I don’t like it… they’re all about colors and overpowering smells. Its obnoxious. I can’t stand it.”

Weston snorts and shakes his head in disbelief.

“Okay. You don’t like flowers. Noted.”

Millan's eyes lower to Weston’s neck as they let comfortable silence settle between them.

“I used to wear flower crowns when I was younger. I’d go collect a bunch of them in the gardens to give to my mother, but instead of putting them in a vase, she would twine them together.”

There’s a fleeting moment of pain.

It doesn’t show on Weston’s face. But Millan can feel it.

Now that he thinks about it, Millan has no idea where Weston’s parents are. It’s so normal for him not to have a family that he didn’t think about Weston’s.

In a peaceful pack like the Blayne’s, it’s weird that Weston has become the Head Alpha at such a young age. As much as he wants to pry, Millan can also feel that Weston doesn’t want to talk about it.

Respecting that, he lets it go and files the questions in his mind for later. Millan huffs instead, keeping the tone light.

“Of course you would wear flower crowns. You’re ridiculous.”

Weston’s dimples deepen. Millan smiles a bit more genuinely than he’d intended to as he continues.

“I can see it, though. I’m sure you made the flowers look beautiful.”

“YOU’RE beautiful.”

Millan rolls his eyes at Weston’s statement.