Chapter 52: Chapter 52
Millan adjusts his backpack for the umpteenth time in a nervous gesture.
Every branch cracking under his feet resonates loudly in the silent woods. The crescent moon provides little light, accentuating shadows and making trees look taller than they are.
Millan hopes he hasn’t made the wrong decision.
There’s no doubt in his mind that his father is behind all this. He has no idea what he intends to do when he finally faces the Head Alpha of the Caelan Pack, but he knows he needs to confront Travis nonetheless- to end this once and for all.
Still, what he wouldn’t give to be surrounded in Weston’s warmth again, as he was just a couple of hours ago.
A shuffling sound in the leaves to his right side makes him stop walking abruptly. He listens, frozen into place until a squirrel pokes his nose out of the bushes.
Millan lets out the breath he was holding. He hasn’t been that nervous since his first month of banishment.
He swallows and brings a hand to his neck, pressing a finger to the fresh bite mark just underneath his jaw, bringing back memories of a familiar rainy scent, gold eyes and security.
Images of his Fated Mate holding him tightly, the feeling of his knot and his possessive growl as he bit into Millan's neck, help relax him a little.
The clarity in their bond now that they are mated is uncanny. It’s as if a part of Weston is always with him and vice versa. He can tap into what Weston feels and where he is at any moment.
Now, as he crosses the border, a stabbing pain in his head starting immediately, he’s so glad he can feel Weston’s strength guiding him through it.
As he advances further into Brook's Territory, trying to ignore his throbbing skull, he remembers how Weston had wanted to prepare him food right after the mating.
He’d picked Millan up and settled him on the counter as he prepared an unsettling number of breakfast foods.
Millan had felt as if he was in a haze, as if he were dropping but remaining conscious of his surroundings.
(Flashback)
“Millan!”
Millan's head snaps up from the gigantic breakfast plate Weston had prepared him to look at a bewildered Amir.
“Andy! Jace! Come, look!”
Millan cringes at Amir’s loudness in the dark and silent house. Last time he checked, it was close to midnight and there were puppies sleeping in the nearby rooms.
Jace and Andy came running to the kitchen, disheveled and sleep driven, their sleepwear all rumpled from their slumber.
“What? What happened?”
“Is there a fire? Shit!”
Both alpha and beta siblings run to the kitchen, looking everywhere and trying to assess whatever is the situation than had warrant them to cut their sleep.
Amir rolls his eyes, “Everything’s fine. Calm down, but look!” Amir goes to point at the bite mark on Millan's neck and brushes it slightly.
The contact brings vivid images of his mating and Millan feels himself slip in a fuzzy, comfortable state.
“Amir! Don’t touch it, you’ll make him drop!”
Millan hears Jace yell in the background as he slips into a comfortable cloud.
Amir removes his hand hastily, clearing Millan's mind slowly back to normal.
“Sorry, Millan! I didn’t know it was that sensitive right after…”
Millan blushes, still fairly uncomfortable with dropping in public and laughs nervously, “It’s okay, Amir.”
“Where’s Weston?” Jace asks.
“He said he was going to make dessert breakfast… whatever that means.”
“Aw, he’s being an over-the-top protective alpha mate, isn’t he?” Jace says, smirking.
Millan shrugs, unable to hide the stupid smile spreading on his face. “I guess.”
“I’m so happy for you two, Millan.” Andy says finally, having been oddly quiet since Amir’s declaration about his mating mark.
There was a flash of emotion in the alpha’s brown eyes but disappearing immediately that Millan isn’t sure if it really was there or just the light playing tricks on him. Nevertheless, he smiled at Andy.
“Yeah, congrats, Millan.” Jace says, clearing his throat and clapping his alpha brother on the shoulder.
Amir sees Millan’s confused look and smiles at him before engulfing him in a big hug, “Congratulations, Mill!” then he whispered, “Don’t mind my brothers. It’s because they’re still ruffled from their sleep.”
(End of Flashback)
As he makes progress inside Brook Territory, the pain subsides and Millan can’t help his small grin thinking about Weston, his mate.
“You’re early.”
Millan's heart jumps in his chest as he turns around and is met with Axel Brook's smirk. Behind him are the two bulky alphas Millan had already met the last time he’d crossed that border.
Millan's eyes widen in a show of surprise, imitating a deer caught in headlights as much as possible, hoping it looks credible enough.
“Now, let me see what you have there.”
Axel grabs Millan's backpack and Millan lets the straps fall off his shoulders, acting intimidated the best he can. Judging by the growing smirk on Axel’s face, he buys it.
“Tsk, tsk… Millan, you should have known better.” Axel says, picking up a knife from Millan's bag. He gives it to one of his bodyguards who pockets it before returning to an indifferent stance.
Millan eyes the knife in what he hopes is a longing look.
“Don’t get any ideas now, Millan. Clifford here is a black belt in any martial art you can think of and an amazing boxer. Trust me, if he has any say in it, you’re not going to see that knife again.”
(Flashback to a few hours ago)
They’re in Weston’s office with the rest of the Council.
As Weston relates the events leading up to this, Millan can’t help but feel the guilt build up in his stomach. If he hadn’t come into their territory uninvited, the Blayne Pack wouldn’t have had to deal with this drama.
But then, Weston finishes his report, and everybody seems deep in thought, wrapping their heads around the problem. But nobody is blaming Millan or suggesting that he give himself up for the pack’s sake.
After a moment of somber silence, Weston speaks again.
“Axel isn’t dangerous. He was always into theatrics but never went through with anything. We can prepare to defend ourselves if push comes to shove, but I’m convinced he’s bluffing.”
“You’re right if Axel is alone in this, but if he is, in fact, allied with Travis Caelan, we could be in trouble.” Grant says, a hand rubbing at his eyes tiredly.
Millan swallows, still expecting someone to suggest his departure.
“The Caelan Territory isn’t very close. My father is probably here with only a handful of people. I don’t think he traveled with any military power.”
“I think we should ignore him and prepare ourselves in case he decides to make good on his threat.” Weston speaks.
Millan is confused to see everybody, even Grant, nod their heads in agreement with Weston.
He is touched that nobody is even considering the obvious easy way out.
Still, he can’t hide in fear all his life.
“Weston…”
Of course, Weston shakes his head immediately.
“I don’t want you in danger, Mill… please.” Weston’s pleading eyes bore into Millan's soul.
He doesn’t want to cause Weston any pain, but he knows what he has to do.
“You still want to go, don’t you?”
Millan nods curtly, aware of the anguish in Weston’s eyes.
“Okay. Let’s figure out how to help you out then.” Amir says.
Weston’s head snaps towards him.
“Amir.” Weston growls menacingly.
“Weston, you know as well as me that Millan is going to go either way. Are you going to lock him up? Because that wouldn’t be effective on him and he will just sneak out. It’s better if we back him up and reduce the risk.”
Weston knows that Amir is right, but he can’t bear the idea of Millan alone on a dangerous territory.
“Mill… what do you intend to do exactly? Just talk to him or…” Amara asks.
“Yeah… I guess so. I just want… closure.”
Weston can feel his soulmate’s resolution and determination in their bond.
He sighs, “All right. Let’s think this through then.”
Millan is overwhelmed with gratefulness as everybody nods and ready themselves to help him. As new as it is, he guesses solidarity in this- no HIS- pack is something he’ll have to get used to.
He can think of worst things to get used to.
“I have an idea.” Amir says with a smile.
(End of Flashback)
Acting scared is harder than Millan had thought.
When everything goes exactly according to plan, he has a hard time keeping a smirk at bay. Biting his tongue, he forces his gaze on the ground in a show of submission.
“All right, let’s go see your father, shall we?”
Millan's head snaps up, playing up his surprise. He didn’t expect Axel to outright say it so soon and part of him still hoped his father had nothing to do with all of this.
Axel, clearly pleased by Millan's reaction, had probably planned for the theatrics.
Amir was right, all this guy wants is to create a good show.
Well, bring it on, Millan thinks as he’s lead towards Brook Headquarters.