Chapter 9: Chapter 9
When Weston suggested he move from the hospital room to a guest room in the main house, Millan imagined he would be placed into a less comfortable area in the basement.
Years of experience free loading off of reluctant packs taught him not to expect the best treatment. But this must be the nicest place he’s ever been in.
The heavy duvet and numerous pillows on the king sized bed make it hard not to throw himself on it dramatically as soon as he opens the door.
Colourful paintings hung on the walls, windows decorated with greenery go as high as the ceiling, the hand carved wood everywhere makes the place feel cozy and elegant.
In all honesty, Millan could stay in this room for the remainder of his stay and be totally content.
But hunger and a rumbling stomach are getting hard to ignore.
He vaguely remembers pancake and eggs being brought to him at the hospital in the morning, but he’d gotten side tracked with stealing and exploring.
A frustrating habit of his. It’s with food in mind that he sets off to find a kitchen.
Or a gastronomic restaurant.
The Blayne Headquarters is so over the top he wouldn’t even be surprised.
Following the sound of a familiar voice and smell combined with the clinking of cutlery, he finds the kitchen pretty easily.
He stops in the doorway.
Andy is there with a blond omega. There are other people milling about, but those two provide such a domestic warm hearted scene that Millan can’t help but stand there and watch.
They’re cooking something, their backs to Millan, working without a word, like a synchronized dance and giving themselves playful hits here and there.
They look soft and happy- a display of extremely foreign things to Millan.
“Hey, Millan! Come in! Are you hungry?”
Millan startles a bit, the two of them looked so busy with what they’re doing, it’s surprising they even noticed him.
The blond looks curious, head tilted to the side slightly and eyes scrutinizing every movement Millan makes.
“Hey, Andy.”
Entering the kitchen, he nods to the other omega and smiles back, not as naturally.
“Uhm, yeah, I’m a bit hungry, thought I’d get something to eat here, if that’s okay?”
Millan doesn’t know the feeding etiquette for a rogue in this pack. Maybe he isn’t supposed to just get food himself, maybe they don’t trust him enough and maybe he has to wait until someone deigns to bring him something.
“Yeah, of course! Amir and I were just preparing some pasta. You can join us if you’re interested.” Andy’s smile is inviting, but Millan doesn’t miss the side glance Amir is giving the alpha.
He was going to bring up some non perishable food to his room and hide half of it in his bag, but he figures he’ll have other opportunities to do so. And Andy’s puppy eyes are hard to dismiss.
“Yeah, okay, sure.” Just as Millan is about to ask if they need any help, although his cooking skills are nonexistent, Jace brushes passed Millan in entering the kitchen, both Amir and Andy’s eyes smile.
“Jace! Hi!”
Millan has to force himself not to roll his eyes.
What a coincidence that the guy following him decides to go into the kitchen at the same moment?
They greet each other, tapping each other on the shoulders and Millan finds the warm atmosphere interesting and suffocating at the same time.
They might be close friends, or more than that, but not lovers. They doesn’t give that vibe and air about them. They seem domestically inclined but without any romantic notations.
“Millan, this is Jace, our brother.”
Oh.
That explains it.
Millan shakes hand with Jace as if he didn’t know him already and tries his best to be polite, figuring it’ll be good to get to know the annoyance better.
It might give him ideas as to how to lose the tail in the future.
Turns out the three of them are brothers and are excellent cooks. That or Millan hasn’t had a proper meal in forever and wouldn’t know the difference anyway.
Millan discovers that Andy is the oldest and is a black-smith, owning a shop in Headquarters and that Amir is the youngest and a strategist in the Council which unnerves Millan to no end.
It explains the constantly analyzing gaze on him. They also inform him of the middle child Jace’s position and he tries to convey he didn’t know that already.
A complete set of Alpha, Beta, and Omega siblings.
They have a laugh about how humans constantly invent new things to go from point A to point B faster and Andy argues about superheroes with Jace.
By the end of their meal, Millan realizes he’s letting his guard down and he doesn’t care, actually having fun.
Of course that bubbly feeling fluttering in his chest doesn’t last too long.
“So, Millan, how long have you been on your own?” Amir ignores Andy’s glare.
Millan acts unbothered. Amir had been observing him closely the whole time, the questions were probably burning the blond’s lips.
“Nine years.”
Nobody at the table seems surprised. Millan deduces that everybody knew already. Frowning, he wonders why Amir would ask if that’s no news to him.
“So you were what? Thirteen, fourteen when your pack banished you?”
“Amir!” Andy seems scandalized by the line of questioning, but it does nothing to unfaze the blond.
Millan keeps a straight face.
“Fourteen, yeah.”
Millan still can’t talk about that day without flashbacks. It’s getting harder to swallow his pasta as he tries to school his expression.
“So you’ve just been going through pack territories ever since?”
“Yeah.”
“You must have seen a lot of them. How many?”
Millan shrugs.
How is that relevant?
Is he saying too much if he answers that?
What is Amir’s endgame?
“A lot.”
“How many is that?”
Andy’s expression is almost comical, eyes wide, mouth opened, face red, clearly horrified and embarrassed.
Millan decides honesty is probably the best approach with someone like the omega before him. He seems like someone who’d notice a lie from a mile away.
“Sixty-two, counting this pack, sixty-three.”
Jace and Andy gasp, it shuts Amir up for a moment, looking hesitant to continue.
Millan doesn’t give him that chance.
“Anyway, thank you for the meal. It was really good.”
He takes his leave quickly, not waiting for an answer.