Chapter 50: Chapter 50
The surreal sight before them leaves them baffled.
There, in front of an enormous bonfire, stands Axel Brook, draped in a flamboyant outfit, an impossibly annoying smirk on his face while multiple werewolves form a circle around the fire chanting and signing complicated symbols into the air in unison.
“Oh, good! You’re here. I thought I’d have to fetch you. How convenient.” Axel says as soon as Weston and Millan come into earshot.
Weston holds back an urge to grunt at yet another ridiculous display of useless drama from their neighbouring pack.
“What are you doing, Axel?”
“Why, I’m breaking the Border Curse of course, so that I can invade your territory.”
Weston snorts. “That is absurd. No one’s ever been able to do that.”
“Actually, no. There’s a pack at the East, the Ezra Pack, maybe you’ve heard of them?” Axel says, satisfied.
“Yeah, bunch of snobs, that lot.” Millan grunts mostly to himself, remembering his encounter with them some years before.
Axel looks at Millan, smiling widely, “They ARE snobs, aren’t they?” Axel turns his attention back to Weston, “Anyhow, they discovered or rather, one of their witches discovered how to break the spell and they graciously accepted to help us out.”
“You’re bluffing.” Weston’s anger builds, protective as Millan's fear rises in their soul bond.
Millan tugs on his sleeve and whispers, “Weston… I did go through the Ezra’s Territory and they had a really powerful witch. She made the curse work on me. I couldn’t step into their territory without getting sick even though I’m a Rogue.”
“Was.” Weston corrects sternly.
“Right. When I WAS a Rogue.” Millan smiles softly, memories of the night before rushing back and love swelling in their bond.
For a moment, the rest of the world fades away as they both rejoice in their undeterred happiness.
Axel Brook, feeling ignored, frowns and coughs exuberantly, effectively bringing them out of their reverie.
“Still might be a bluff.” Weston whispers, knowing full well Axel would have never done anything like that if it weren’t for his mysterious newfound alliance.
Without knowing who those allies are though, it’s hard to determine if Axel has the power to take over Weston’s troops or not.
Still, over the years, Weston has come to understand Axel Brook. His bark is always scarier than the bite. The Head Alpha loves drama and causing it but shies away from a fight every chance he gets.
Alone, Axel Brook is harmless.
It’s the unknown ally that Weston is worried about.
Finally, he decides to play along, “What do you want, Axel?”
Axel’s smile grows and he takes a breath, reveling in his moment.
“Well, since you asked, there is something I want more than your territory, Blayne.”
Axel pauses, happy to have such an attentive crowd.
“Go on, Axel.” Weston says impatiently.
“I want Millan.”
Weston growls, stepping forward menacingly, “What is your obsession with Millan?”
Axel takes a step back, discreetly without losing his confident demeanor. Or so he hopes.
“Let’s just say someone wants to say hi.”
“Who?” Weston snarls, anger taking over his thoughts.
“My father.” Millan murmurs as he connects the dots from his previous meeting with Axel.
Weston’s eyes widen, realizing what this means.
Axel Brook has allied with the Caelan Pack.
All Weston knows about them is what Millan has told him and there is nothing reassuring about that.
Silence falls over them, leaving only the faint sounds of chanting and fire crackling.
“So? What will it be?” Axel says, exhilarated.
Weston panics, sensing the sudden resolution in Millan.
“I’ll go.”
Weston grips Millan's arm before the omega could take a step forward.
“Millan! No!”
“You know I have to do this, Weston. Knowing my father, there’s no other way.”
“This is suicide, Millan!” He adds, softer and only for Millan's ears, “Let’s be smarter about this. Please. Trust me, okay?”
Millan's resolution falters, but he finally concedes in a tiny nod.
“Will you give us some time to think?” Weston asks Axel.
It lasts only a fraction of a second, but there’s a fleeting hesitation in Axel’s eyes.
“Very well. You have until tomorrow at dawn.”
“Do you agree to pause whatever this is until then?”
“You have my word.”
Weston nods and hastily drags Millan away from the border towards Headquarters, not leaving him out of his sight for a second.
*****
Millan lies awake draped in Weston’s arms.
Neither of them is sleeping as they’re both too preoccupied. Millan tries to enjoy what little time he has left in the comfort of his soul mate’s embrace, but his mind is racing.
Weston’s arms tighten around him and his voice comes out barely a whisper, “There’s nothing I can do to change your mind, can’t I?”
Millan shakes his head, silenced by the anguish he feels in Weston’s part of their bond. He hates himself for causing his Fated Mate’s distress, but he needs to confront his father.
There’s no way around it.
“I want to mate you, Millan. I want you to be mine. I can’t let you go alone in a dangerous situation when we’re not even…” Weston trails off, holding Millan close as if needing the reassurance that he is there now.
“Yes, okay.” Millan says, head buried in Weston’s chest.
“Yeah?” Weston loosens his grip in order to look in Millan's violet eyes.
“I want you to be my mate, Weston.”
Weston’s answering kiss is passionate and demanding.
Millan responds with everything he has, trusting Weston completely.
*****
Weston’s lips trails down his neck, teasing his ear lobe on the way, giving Millan goosebumps in the process.
Millan's hip bucks up, searching for friction, but Weston tuts at him and gently pushes his waist back into the mattress.
“You’re such a tease, Weston Blayne.” Millan whines.
“And you’re a very impatient little omega, Millan Ellis Caelan.”
“Give me a break. I’m not little.” Millan mumbles, aware he probably resembles a petulant child, not helping his case.
Weston laughs as he trails kisses further down Millan's throat towards his collarbones.
Millan's hands go to palm Weston’s erection, but Weston laughs again and grips his wrists to keep them immobilized over his head.
“You’re so bossy today.” Millan says, voice rough, tainted with desire.
“You need to stay still,” Weston’s lips ghost over a nipple, “I have to think.” Weston says before gently attacking his nipple with his teeth, immediately soothing it with his tongue.