Chapter 8: Chapter 8

The library is degenerately massive.

From the foyer where he stands, impossibly high ladders lead to the highest books. Impressive wooden stairs, engraved with gold molding lead up two floors above his head.

People are milling about in silence, reading in different lounging areas, looking through the indefinite options on the shelves.

Millan even notices some of them in their wolf form, relaxing next to readers.

Everything looks so peaceful and majestic.

The omega’s tentative steps into the quiet space reverberate through the marble floor. Madelyn is observing him with a knowing grin.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

Millan can’t stop gazing at the space, trying to scrutinize every little detail and memorize them.

Even whispering feels too loud.

“How? No pack Headquarters I’ve seen is like this. I mean- what- how?”

Madelyn leads him to a nearby corner furnished with big vibrant poufs and smaller shelves where pups are reading small colorful books.

Their words are muffled by the lower ceiling here instead of echoing into the three floors like they did in the foyer. Once they’re both seated, slightly situated away from the quiet pups, Madelyn turns to face Millan.

“You want the long version or the short one?”

“Long.” Curious to know more, there’s no hesitation in Millan's response.

Madelyn clears her throat and Millan shifts on his pouf, making himself more comfortable and turning his whole body towards the beta.

“The Blayne Headquarters were once like every other pack: a luxurious home for the Blayne Alpha and their family exclusively, but Weston’s great-great-great-grandfather and his wife felt uncomfortable with the whole thing. They instead began to imagine a place where every wolf from their pack would feel at ease, where they’d come and go and, eventually, live there. They wanted them closer to protect them, care for them and create a healthy community- a tighter one.”

“Weren’t Headquarters more like villages a long time ago?” Millan could recall his mother’s melancholy when she talked about that piece of their history.

“Yes, but that was thousands of years ago, when our relationship with humans was way more complicated than today. Since we started sharing the same spaces, living amongst each other, Headquarters became the only place where solely werewolves were admitted, remains of an ancient contract between humans and werewolves to keep the peace. However, as werewolves decided to cohabitate with humans, Headquarters quickly became an exclusive club for werewolves in power.”

Millan nods, feeling like that summed up his entire experience coming across different packs.

“Weston’s ancestors wanted to change that.”

“So they made Headquarters bigger?”

“They created a government.”

“What?”

That was unexpected.

“They thought that the lack of kinship between the pack’s members ran deeper than just a living space. They wanted them to be more involved in the decision making. They thought the dictatorship of the Head Alpha role was archaic and so they invited every werewolf of their territory to elect a Council that would contribute to the pack’s internal affairs. Of course, the Head Alpha would have a right to veto most decisions if he saw fit, but, and that was the whole point, the Council would have the right to call on an extraordinary assembly and organize a referendum to dismantle the Head Alpha’s function if they deemed it necessary.”

Millan gasps.

“I know. That was an upstanding decision if you ask me.”

Millan nods, eyes wide. He doesn’t know any Pack Alpha who would jeopardize their place in power this way out of sheer principles.

“Anyway, once elected, it made sense that the Council would stay at Headquarters with their families. A couple years passed and together, they started laying out a plan to build Headquarters bigger in order to reconstruct a community around it and welcome any werewolf that would like to live there.”

“They must have had thousands of werewolves knocking at their door.”

“Not immediately. I mean, most werewolves had a life in the city or in the suburbs and they didn’t want to leave that behind. Some of them even opposed the idea, saying it would make them go backwards in regards to human/werewolves politics. But poverty brought a lot of misfortuned families, hopeful for better living conditions. And from there, they erected services like the hospital you’ve already seen. They passed the idea of grandeur to the next generation who passed it to the next and so on until today. That’s how Headquarters grew bigger and bigger.”

“Wow.”

Millan would have been the first to show up. This place was heaven.

An accountable Head Alpha, gardens, parks, a huge main house, a library, a hospital for Christ’s sake. And he’s sure he hasn’t seen all of it yet.

He tries to ignore his clenching desire to stay forever and fails miserably. His chest constricts and he has a hard time getting a sound out when he speaks next.

“I’m really env-”

Abruptly, a booming noise resonates through the whole library, having most pups surrounding them looking up curiously.

Millan turns around to identify the source of the noise when he locks eyes with familiar golds.

The omega at the front desk, visibly stunned by Weston’s turbulent entrance, scrambles to meet him.

“Did you need anything, Head Alpha?”

“No thank you, I’ve found what I need.”

She deflates when the Pack Alpha doesn’t look at her twice before hurrying towards Millan.

Millan's already constricted chest seems to tighten even more out of nervousness.

When passing through a territory, avoiding alphas like the plague is usually the better option, their encounter never ending so well. The second meeting was never a good sign either.

The omega can’t help but think that Nara found out about the missing medicine and he’s going to get kicked out.

“Hey, Millan. You’re a hard one to find.”

“I’m really not.”

“Can I talk to you outside for a moment?”

“Maybe later. I was having a very interesting conversation with Madelyn here.”

Millan smiles cheekily. His heart is beating way too fast for it to be normal. His palms are sweating.

Christ, what is happening to me? he questioned because this was definitely rare for him.

Weston’s smile freezes, visibly annoyed by Millan's dismissiveness. He changes strategies and turns to the beta girl.

“Hi, Madelyn, how are your parents?”

“Hi Alpha Weston, they’re great, thanks for asking.” Madelyn’s smile could light up the whole library.

Millan tries to find a way to stall, to avoid having the unpleasant rejection talk with Weston.

“Yeah, her parents are great. She was just about to tell me about it. So we’ll talk later, yeah?”

Weston ignores him.

“Would you mind terribly if I stole Millan for a quick moment? It won’t take very long, I promise.”

Shit, Weston’s a right charmer. He’s showing off both of his dimples and it’s apparent Madelyn’s under his spell.

“Sure! It’s not a problem at all.”

“Thank you so much.”

Weston expectantly turns towards Millan. There’s nothing left for the latter to do than to stand up. It’d be impolite not to do so and people are starting to stare.

Well played Blayne, well played, Millan sulked.

*****

Millan is dumb.

He’s just so stupid for letting himself fantasize about this place.

Why was it so hard not to get attached?

Weston is looking at him like he doesn’t know how to start.

Christ, even the Head Alpha is too kind to tell me to fuck off, he lamented.

The lump in his throat feels more like an inflated balloon. He’d like to forestall Weston and say he’ll leave first thing in the morning, getting this moment over quicker.

But it’s impossible with this balloon blocking his airway.

“So. Umm- I wanted to speak with you because well…” Weston clears his throat and Millan tries to focus on an ant making its way on the bench they’re sitting on. “Yesterday, when you heard me with Andy, I- umm.”

Weston is completely thrown off by Millan's closed off demeanor. His refusal to look Weston in the eyes makes the alpha jittery and ads to his guilt.

“Could you look at me, please?”

Millan tears his eyes away from the ant and bites the inside of his cheek willing himself not to break down.

“What I’m trying to say is, I’m deeply sorry, Millan, for what you heard me say yesterday.”

The omega’s brows furrow, his head tilts to the side and he opens his mouth as if to say something only to close it again.

“Huh?” Is all Millan can force out.

Weston swallows trying to clear his throat. “I know you heard me say very judgemental things about rogues and it was insensitive. I’m sorry.”

Millan closes his eyes and opens them again, as if to make sure Weston isn’t a mirage.

“So you aren’t kicking me out?”

“What? No! Why would you think that? Not at all. I mean, you can still stay for two weeks as discussed.” Weston’s heart clenches.

Millan sighs, relieved. “Good. All right. Well, yeah, no problem, Westy. All’s forgiven and what not.”

Weston’s eyebrows furrow. “That’s too easy. Aren’t you mad at me?”

Millan laughs. “Why are you worried about a rogue being mad at you? Honestly this place.” Millan shakes his head.

“What about it?” Weston’s smile is contained, heart still aching for the omega.

He thought I was kicking him out, Weston realized.

“I don’t know. Everybody’s just so… nice! It’s twice now that you’ve apologized to me, of all people.”

“Well, it’s twice now that I’ve wronged you. And anyway, kindness is underrated.”

“Well, not here, let me tell you. If anything, here, kindness is overrated.”

How can Millan seem so lighthearted throughout all of this? Weston pondered.

“Good. There’s a balance to be restored.”

Millan smiles despite his best effort not to and stares at Weston, contemplating something.

“Why? What’s with the look?” Weston’s tone is light, glad he made Millan smile like that, happy that he isn’t as closed off as before.

Millan laughs. “I found your adjective.”

Weston’s eyebrows rise up to his hairline and his grin grows bigger, showing off his dimples.

“Did you now?”

Millan just nods, smirking. Weston pokes him on his side.

“Tell me.”

The omega lets out a breathy laugh and shakes his head.

“Ridiculous.”

Weston beams. “I like it.”

“My point exactly.”