i

Anwyll is still drowsy when he stumbles out of his hut to make his way through the pack. He knows he’ll be late to the meeting just as much as he knows that if he is, even by one second, that his father will punish him with kitchen duty. Again.

He’s aware of the fact that this meeting is important, that it’ll affect the entire pack and its future.

He simply doesn’t understand why everyone has to be present.

He finds no point in being in attendance. He’s not important even if he’s technically an heir. Emphasis on the an and not the heir.

It’s not like he’ll be chosen anyway. Alphas are just not attracted to betas, especially those who tend to speak their mind. Alphas like petite docile omegas that can’t defend themselves and have no choice in who they mate. Granted, much like the omegas, he’s quite small (smaller than half of them to be honest) and likewise he also doesn’t have a choice in this matter, but he’s confident.

A bit cocky too.

There’s no way an alpha will ever look his way with such a personality.

There’s no way anyone will ever look his way.

He’s come to terms with that in the most recent years.

So, sleepy and annoyed he can’t help but roll his eyes when his mother and older brother come to view.

It’s not that he isn’t happy to see them, he’d just rather be sleeping wrapped warm in his furs.

That’s why he’s wearing something akin to a dress. It’s more of an overly large tunic that reaches mid-thigh with leggings made from thinned deerskin. Although he’s a beta, he likes the soft flowy material that offers him comfort and is perfect for napping.

His mother has never felt more approving of his unkempt appearance as the beta stands just a smidge nervously before her. He can’t help but stare at his bared feet caked in mud from morning’s dew yet finding he couldn’t care less.

Still, he hates how a thumb is swiped clean above his brow to wipe away a streak of dirt before her hand ruffles his hair to shake out the leaves and twigs.

He looks wild, but presentable enough.

At least he won’t make his mother appear foolish in front of his father.

“Please, Anwyll,” she begs softly, voice urgent to gain his attention, to emphasize what’s at stake.

“I know mama,” Anwyll whispers, “I’ll do everything possible to not be chosen.”

His older brother, a kind hearted and sweet alpha, hugs both Anwyll and their mother tightly, “There’s nothing to worry about mama. Alpha Milan will probably search for one of our omega siblings. Despite everything being tense between our packs, I’m sure Head Alpha Abe will want nothing but the best for the future of his son and their pack.”

“As wrong as it is to say, I hope you are right Casey,” their mother says, “I cared for those children as if they were my own, watched as they grew up alongside you. But you are my children and they are more valuable to an alpha, they are more than willing and more than happy to become an alpha’s mate, especially an alpha with such status. Their mothers would be pleased, thrilled even, to let their children leave. But I could never let either of you go. You are still my precious babies and I love you so much.”

Anwyll smiles, pressing a kiss to her cheek, “and we love you too, mama. I’m sure the alpha won’t even look my way. And it’s not like I want to be his mate or bonded anyway. I don’t want an arranged mating, I want a mating from love. So, I’ll do everything to repulse him.”

She returns the soft warm smile with her own, “You are amazing and absolutely beautiful and sweet, my little one. He’ll be crazy not to look your way, but I’ll be so thankful if he doesn’t. So, try to stay out of trouble, please.”

Anwyll nods, letting his mother press a kiss to his forehead before she does the same to Casey. Her embrace is warm and Anwyll can’t help but bury himself in the sweet soothing scent he’s known all his life.

A cough from one of their father’s omegas reaches their ears and reluctantly they part.

Their mother goes to stand second in line with the other mates their father has taken, head held high but a small nervous twitch on her hand.

Anwyll stands last beside Casey proudly, but barely reaching the alpha’s bicep in height.

The arrival of the Crescent Oak Pack is nothing but a loud affair.

One Anwyll finds quite exaggerated.

His omega siblings all swoon at the appearance of the incoming party, eyes fixated on a young alpha that can only be the future head Alpha Milan.

Anwyll rolls his eyes, and whispers to his older brother, “Not much to look at, to be honest.”

Casey tries to hide a snort at Anwyll’s comment, but regains his composure when their father gives them a look to silence them.

They all bow in respect to their rivaling pack before they escort the party to the meeting hut where business takes place.

It’s a bit tense between both packs.

Years of rivalry and bad blood resurfaces between the alpha leaders, but it’s kept under wraps as they shake hands tightly.

And that’s why they’re here today, to try and put the feud in the past.

Right where it belongs.

It’s not like anyone even remembers what sparked the hate.

It’s no longer justified.

“Shall we begin?” Alpha Michael questions pleasantly, waving at a young beta to serve their guests drinks.

Alpha Abe nods, “lets.”

Anwyll doesn’t pay too much attention. He takes a seat at the end of the table next to Casey. But try as he might, he can’t keep from yawning.

It probably wasn’t smart to retire late last night, but the pups from the nursery were enthusiastic and energetic.

“Anwyll,” Casey calls softly, elbowing him discreetly.

Anwyll huffs, eyes droopy but still open, “’m tired.”

“Show respect, you don’t want our father to punish you again.”

“Last time was an accident, it’s not my fault Aderyn was being a b-”

“Anwyll!” Casey hisses lowly.

“Brat, I was going to say brat,” Anwyll rushes.

“The terms are as followed,” their father begins, his voice loud and booming.

Anwyll stops talking as he stiffens in his seat.

The alpha, having grabbed everyone’s attention, continues, “To put aside our differences and stop this senseless war among our packs, we will unite both packs with a blood bond between Alpha Milan and a chosen mate.”

A… blood bond?

He swallows thickly.

He knows exactly what a blood bond is. It’s more than a fling, it’s official but not official official. It’s a bond connecting two souls, like a temporary mating without heavy repercussions on the couple after it’s dissolved, because it will be dissolved. And it’ll still be as painful when broken, because it’s not permanent. Of course it won’t be permanent.

Anwyll tunes into his father’s words again, catching a snippet of, “-at least six pups must be produced from this union. This mating will be broke-”

He feels his heart lodge in his throat as he shares a look with his mother from across the room.

He knew a mating between rivaling packs would only be temporary, but what does the promise of returning home compare to the six pups expected to be left behind with the other pack… he… no .

He can’t even think of trading his pup for his freedom, let alone six .

That’s so wrong.

He would never.

He could

never .

It surprises him how the others choose to be ignorant, the omegas having the confidence of seducing Alpha Milan and making the bond permanent.

Anwyll shakes his head, a breath of relief escaping when the meeting finally absolves.

Mr. Alpha Perfect soon casually roams around to chat with his potential bonded and Anwyll makes sure to be extra obnoxious.

He’ll do anything to not be chosen, to repulse the alpha and the entire visiting pack.

So, he chats with Casey.

Ignoring the alpha’s existence and praying he’ll be ignored as well.

Yet somehow he manages to catch the alpha’s eye.

The alpha blatantly stares at him and he returns the curious look with a glare, arms crossing over his chest.

His heart begins hammering when the alpha abandons the swooning omegas and approaches him and Casey.

Anwyll tries to breathe, reassuring himself that the alpha would never be interested him. The alpha could never choose a beta like him.

“Hello,” the older man says pleasantly, “I’m Alpha Milan.”

“Announce it to the world why don’tcha,” Anwyll retorts.

“My apologies,” Casey sighs, directing a glare at his ill mannered brother, “I’m Casey and this is my younger brother, Anwyll.”

“Anwyll,” the alpha snorts.

The beta’s cheeks turn a rosy hue at that, his hands clenching into fists, “Yes, Anwyll, your boorish highness.”

The smile is wiped off of the man’s face and Anwyll silently celebrates, counting it as a win.

“I apologize, Anwyll. It’s a rather lovely and unique name. I meant no ill intentions,” he says sincerely, eyes never straying from the beta’s chubby face.

“Yes well, if you’ll excuse us we were in the middle of a conversation and yo-”

“Does your conversation involve the lack of footwear or rude mannerisms?”

Anwyll glances at his feet, still dirty and bare.

And he’s suddenly self conscious with his appearance as he rubs them together.

His scent turns thick, like smoke from a wildfire with anger because he knows what the alpha is trying to imply, trying to do, “I prefer walking barefoot and many say I have a rather charming personality actually. Now if you’ll excuse us, you should really woo the others more interested. They seem more than willing to entertain your prick as-”

“Do excuse us,” Casey intervenes quickly, yanking Anwyll away from the alpha before the beta gets any ideas.

“Lemme go,” Anwyll hisses.

“Anwyll,” Casey growls lowly, “are you crazy? What the hell were you thinking of flirting with him?”

“That was many things, but it was not flirting,” Anwyll huffs.

“It still could’ve ended badly! Do you want to go to war?”

“No, bu-”

“Anwyll, just stop.”

Anwyll crosses his arms over his chest, glaring as the alpha continues chatting with his other siblings. Likewise the alpha occasionally glances at the beta, offering him a smile when they lock eyes.

Anwyll rolls his eyes out of pettiness, and still he wishes those eyes would always be on him, never stray from him.

Those eyes seem to be pulling him in their depth until he’s drowning.

But when Alpha Milan reunites with Alpha Abe and Alpha Michael, barely having gotten through half his brothers and sisters, in order to discuss his decision, Anwyll looks away. He stares at his feet, feeling stupid and more than embarrassed.

Their mother soon approaches them and grabs each of their hands, sending a small prayer that neither of her children will be picked as they’re ushered outside while the details are discussed and finalized inside the hut among the leaders.

“Don’t worry mama,” Casey smiles reassuringly, “he’s not looking for an alpha to bond with him, it’ll be hard to have that many pups with another alpha. Not to mention the lovely choice words Anwyll said. We might as well be out of the woods.”

“He was a prick,” Anwyll defends.

A few moments later, their father steps out followed by Alpha Abe and Milan.

He feels his mother’s hand squeeze his tightly.

But his eyes are back on Milan.

And the alpha’s gaze is on him.

It isn’t long before Alpha Milan’s decision is announced.

The beta’s eyes widen when his father calls his name with a solemn look on his face, “Anwyll.”

He stares gobsmacked at his father, thinking he misheard.

But deep down he knows he didn’t.

“No,” he chokes breathlessly.

He looks around and finds eyes staring at him in surprise, confusion, and scorn.

It’s his mother’s cry that makes it all the more real as she clings to him.

“Mama,” he breathes, “mama I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I tried to… I… I…”

And as much as it pains her, she gently pushes him toward his future. She wants to be selfish and keep her child safe, keep both of them with her. But one look toward Michael and she knows that she can’t be.

Anwyll looks at Milan, breath hitching in his throat.

He has so many questions.

He was so sure the alpha would never choose him, would never look his way.

All he can do now, though, is to stand in confusion before the man.

Softly, voice a bit hoarse, he asks, “Why me?”

ii

Anwyll holds his breath with his eyes glued to the ground and avoiding the sharp glistening blade that grazes his palm slowly.

The cut stings and his breath hitches at the pain, but he can’t bring himself to make a sound of protest, not until Milan holds his own bloodied hand up waiting for the beta’s to press firmly against it.  It’s a way to form the bond between mates, but it’s the bite that will cement it (that will make it official).  The bites that will never marr Anwyll’s neck as proof of his and his alpha’s love.

“Please,” the beta whispers, tears welling in his eyes, “Please don’t.”

But nothing he says now will change anything.

A soft whine escapes Anwyll’s throat when he presses his trembling palm against Milan’s.  He feels as something snaps into place inside his mind.  It’s like a tangible red thread suddenly connecting him to Milan, to his alpha.  A sudden awareness of the man before him.  He chokes on his breath as a hot tear rolls down his cheek.  Everything is drowned out by the overwhelming applause of pack members celebrating this farce of a union.

Milan offers the petite beta a sad look, reaching out with his free hand to wipe away the stray tear.  The beta turns away, letting his hand fall as soon as the cord wrapped around their joined wrists burns into their skin. 

Now everyone will look at his wrist and they’ll know he belongs to an Alpha.

They’ll know he belongs to none other than Alpha Milan.

But they’ll also know that Milan will never want him as his true mate and he doesn’t know whether to feel pained or relieved.

The man cups his chubby cheek and as much as Anwyll would like to pull away and run far from the alpha and this mess, he can’t.

All he can do is melt into the gentle kiss pecked chastely onto his plump lips.  The warmth of those lips against his make him dizzy as he’s embraced with the woodsy scent of wild berries, oak, and sandal wood.  The scent that belongs solely to his alpha, unique and wild.

“I’m sorry,” the older man mumbles against his bonded’s lips, “Please forgive me.”

Anwyll hiccups, wiping away the tears staining his cheeks.  He’s resentful toward the alpha.  He still doesn’t know why he was chosen.  He was so sure he wouldn’t catch the alpha’s eye.  But he was wrong and here he is, minutes later ready to say goodbye but unwilling to let go of his family (of the only people he’s ever known).

“Mama,” he whimpers, the familiar burn of tears stuffing his nose.

His mother closes her eyes as if in physical pain, her arms aching as she gives her baby boy a warm tight hug.  Her heart hurts.  She wants nothing more than to keep Anwyll with her, away from a rivalling pack they’re just starting to make nice with.

“Mama,” Anwyll repeats, a handful of hair muffling his words, “I don’ wanna go.”

“I know,” she croaks, steeling herself as she continues softly, “But it’ll be okay, sweetheart.  You’ll be back before you know it.  Just be good, stay out of trouble, and do as your alpha says.”

Anwyll bites his tongue.

It’s a reassurance he wants to believe in, but he hadn’t realized what this bonding contract truly meant. 

He knew, of course knew, he would have to bear the alpha’s pups.  But now it’s more than that.  It’s not just a possibility.  He’ll give the alpha the pups as detailed in their contract and he’ll have to leave them behind once he’s done his part.  He’ll have to swallow back his tears as he choses between his freedom and a piece of him.

It hurts.

He can’t imagine doing that, doing exactly what his mother is doing now . 

Letting him go.

It isn’t long before Milan approaches him just after finishing the last details with Anwyll’s father.  There’s a pain in the alpha’s eyes when he catches glistening tears staining the beta’s rosy cheeks.  He wants to reach out and wipe them away, make the pain and sadness disappear.  But this time around, the young beta flinches at his touch.

“Take care of him,” Anwyll’s mother begs, “Please take care of my baby boy.”

“I will,” the alpha promises, just as pained as Anwyll, “I made a promise and I’ll stand by it.”

It’s truly painful letting go.

On the way to the Cresent Oak Pack, there’s an emptiness suddenly in the beta’s chest.  He’s too far away from home, too far from pack, from family.

He’s also exhausted from tossing and turning the night before and it forces him to slow down, quickly falling behind the pack of wolves leading the way.

His legs ache and lungs burn as he pants tiredly.

He has never shifted for such a long time, only enough to run through the their preserve and only with the aid and invigorating gleam of the full moon.  He never knew it would be so difficult to maintain his shift for so long, trotting so far from home.  He barely even knows what’s outside his pack’s territory.  All he knows now, is that they’re in No Man’s Land , a terrain that belongs to neither pack and no where near the half way point.

Milan seems to notice his beta lagging behind.  Anwyll feels hot and too tired.  He feels parched after trotting for two and a half hours nonstop.  He whines low and pitiful, immediately attracting his mate’s attention.

The alpha slows down to match the beta’s staggering step before shifting fluidly.  Anwyll stares at him wide eyed.  He still has trouble shifting to and fro.  It’s absolutely painful and takes him longer to change human.  But when he manages to shift he’s huffing and his skin is flushed a pale rosy hue as he leans against a nearby tree.

“Are you okay?”  His alpha asks.

Anwyll shuts his eyes, trying hard to catch his breath before nodding weakly.

“Com’ere,” the alpha orders, his voice soft with no hint of the demanding Alpha tone.

Anwyll gladly falls into the alpha’s arms.

“I’m going to shift, so get on my back.  I’ll carry you the rest of the way,” Milan says.

Anwyll is still dazed, the hurt of leaving behind his family makes everything a bit surreal.  He’s so detached to the notion that it’s like viewing everything from someone else’s perspective.

Anwyll , the alpha calls, a giant white wolf standing proudly in front of him.

A shiver runs down the beta’s back as he sluggishly climbs atop the huge werewolf.  He let’s himself find comfort in the ticklish warmth of the alpha’s ivory fur, burying his nose until he can smell nothing but that intoxicating woodsy musk.

Almost two hours later, just before the pack’s territory comes to view, Anwyll decides to tug on the thread in his mind.  He probes it, first receiving a wave of emotions that don’t belong to him.  They’re emotions of comfort and concern, feelings that belong to his alpha.

Gaining a bit more confidence with this new link, he timidly asks what’s been on his mind.  A question Milan refused to answer before they bonded, Why did you pick me?

Milan is silent for a few minutes, mulling his answer over before Anwyll can here an audible sigh from the wolf, Because you

didn’t

want

to be bonded with me.

The beta makes a small noise of surprise at this and he’s a bit more than confused.  This leads to more questions than answers.

What? He wonders.

The alpha hesitates, taking a deep breath and continuing, I

didn’t

want

to do this stupid blood bond, but

I

also

wanted

to stop the

senseless

fight between our packs.  As future Head Alpha,

I

needed to understand that my pack’s

needs

come first

and foremost.  Choosing you meant many things.  It meant we would both complete the contract and

maintain

peace between our packs, but

I

also had the assurance that you wouldn’t get attached.  I couldn’t fathom taking an omega as my bonded.  They’d become too attached to me and to the pups produced from our bonding.  But with a beta that wanted nothing to do with me, I knew you wouldn’t fall in love.  Not with me, with someone you don’t even know and would be forced to have sex with for the sole purpose of reproduction.  And I also knew you would like to go home as soon as possible.  It was why

I

agreed in the first place, after our bond was broken

you

could go back home and mate who you wanted.  I

would’ve

done my duty as well and could also mate who

I

want.  I know it was cruel of me, and

I’m

sorry.  I

didn’t

mean to hurt you.

Anwyll mulls this over.  He supposes it makes sense.  As a beta he really won’t have anything holding him back.  An omega was susceptible to falling for the alpha, falling really hard.  But Milan is wrong.  While he might not fall for the alpha, there is no way he could just give up his pups.  He doesn’t know why.  He knows many betas would have no problem with this.  It’s why betas are usually surrogates for mated pairs who can’t have their own.  But he’s not like other betas.  He can’t… But he must.

“What about the pups?” Anwyll mumbles tiredly.

What about them?

“Why six?”

Anwyll almost hates how his heart aches.

We live in the mountains, summers are cold and winters harsher.  We scavenge for food all year round and

it’s

part of the territorial

fights that seems to constantly instigate war between us.  Due to all this, conditions

aren’t

always favorable.  It’s been nearly five years since a pup was born into our pack.  A pack is family,

it’s

meant to expand and grow. 

We’ve

reached the agreement to grow and

hunt

in certain areas of No Man’s Land as well as opened trade with your pack, Bluestone Moon. 

Having

a pup with you will assure an heir for my pack as well. 

It’s

about resources and survival, but also about trust so we can live in peace.

Anwyll is about to say something when wolves appear in the tree line ahead.  There are howls echoing all around them, signals alerting the pack of their arrival. 

Milan slows to a stop and Anwyll carefully slips off of his back, stumbling just a bit.  The alpha, however, wraps his hand around the beta’s arm to steady him before he manages to fall and hurt himself.

“Thanks,” Anwyll mumbles, a hint of embarrassment on his cheeks.

The welcome they receive right after is a loud affair. Anxious weres quickly coming to greet their Alpha Leader and any family members of high status that had accompanied the council.

A young alpha greets Milan with a wolfish grin and a clap on the back.  Anwyll hides behind his alpha, watching the interaction with wide curious eyes.

He feels a bit overwhelmed with the Crescent Oak Pack.  They’re loud and energetic.  Eyes stray to him more often than not.  The scent of a foreign pack makes him cower in mistrust and fear, the only scent he’s used to is his alpha’s.

“You’re beautiful,” a stunning man, an omega, states.

He has a wide smile on his plump lips and his eyes twinkle in the sunlight.

Anwyll stutters a shy, “thank you.”

The omega is absolutely smitten as he pulls Anwyll into a warm hug.  Anwyll closes his eyes and breathes deeply.

He smells like Milan, but sweeter.

“This is my mate,” Alpha Abe introduces, chest puffed out proudly, “Milan’s mother, Hannan.”

Anwyll smiles politely at the kind and bubbly omega, “it’s nice to meet you, Alpha Mate.”

“Likewise,” Hannan responds delightedly, “and just call me Hannan.”

Anwyll nods and before he’s probed and bombarded with more questions, Milan steps beside him.  A warning to anyone who dares make Anwyll uncomfortable. 

The alpha then leans down and kisses Hannan on the cheek with a small smile, “I’m glad to see you mother.”

“And I’m happy you’re back, my little cub.  You and your mate.”

Anwyll shuffles his feet, ears turning a bright red at the word.

He wonders– Does he not know?

“Mother,” Milan sighs, “this is strictly business.  This is a blood bond, not an official mating.  Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’re really tired from the trek.  We’ll join you for the feast I’m sure you prepared.”

“Alright,” Hannan huffs, “go rest.  The bonfire will be lit by sundown.”

Milan nods, reaching out to his beta.

But before Anwyll can leave, Hannan offers him one last hug, “I know you already miss home, and I’m sure this won’t feel the same.  We are not a replacement, but we are also your family now, regardless of the circumstances.  If you need anything, don’t be afraid to ask and thank you for agreeing to this.  We owe your sacrifice many lives.”

Anwyll feels a lump get stuck in his throat and he can barely manage a small nod.  Tentatively, he returns the warm embrace before hurrying to meet with Milan and make their way home.

iii

Anwyll looks around what is now their hut shyly, nervously. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, gnawing it until it’s rosy red and swollen.  Milan steps in front of him, his thumb gently tugging Anwyll’s abused lip free from his nervous habit. The beta finds that he can’t look the alpha in the eye and timidly shuffles away as he feigns interest in their home.

Their hut smells of oak, plain and new with a small trace of poppies. There’s a fireplace straight ahead, fire stroked high to warm their home.  To his right is a pile of inviting furs that can only be their nest.  It doesn’t feel quite like home yet.  It’s foreign with a lack of comfort that Anwyll craves. And still he finds it fitting.

“Do you like it?” Milan asks.

Anwyll looks at the alpha knowing how much Milan has worked on their hut to make it perfect.

So, with droopy eyes he nods, “simple, but beautiful.”

The alpha smiles discreetly before gesturing to the pile of furs, “I have to do a few things, but you should rest, sleep.  I’ll wake you for the celebrations.”

The beta is hesitant but he’s also tired, so he has no qualms in snuggling in the pile of furs. The smell of poppies and lavender is stronger there, clearly emitting from the warm ticklish furs that were washed and clean.  He crawls under the hide of a black bear, a small sigh falling from his lips as his tense muscles relax.

The alpha looks pleased at his bonded, whispering softly, “Sleep,” before running his hand through the beta’s messy hair.

Anwyll nods with a small yawn.

His tired gaze follows the alpha’s retreating form after a small kiss to his head.   Upon hearing the soft thud of the wooden door close, the young beta let’s his eyes fall shut.  His breathing quickly evens into soft rhythmic snores.  His sore body melding into the furs.

A few hours later finds Milan back in his hut, eyes glancing over the small figure sleeping soundly on their furs.  Despite being deep in slumber, the beta's brows are furrowed in stress and the alpha can't help but smooth the worry away with his thumb.

His voice is soft as he urges Anwyll to wake up.  And Anwyll, his little bonded, scrunches his nose up cutely in distaste.  He's still tired, still sore.

A quiet moan rushes out from parted lips before his hazy eyes flutter open.  It takes a while for Anwyll to focus on his surrounding, to remember exactly where he is.  He's completely disoriented and all he knows is that he's cold.

It's now Milan's turn to stare at the young beta in concern, reaching out and giving the younger his warmth.  Anwyll practically melts in his touch before he realizes what he's doing.  His eyes widen and cheeks heat up in his own surprise.

"Are you cold little one?"

Anwyll gulps, tentatively giving the alpha a small nod, "I'm not used to the cold of the mountains, it's usually always scorching this time of year in my pack and it's... it's a big change from winter to summer to winter again."

Milan hums, noticing the beta's shortness of breath, "I'm sorry, we should've taken it slow on our way here.  We should've properly acclimated you gradually, as we travelled.  I know it's difficult to get used to it now, but within a few days the height and cold shouldn't affect you as much anymore."

Anwyll nods, slightly thankful when the alpha helps him stand on his feet.  He hadn't even realized how the elevation of the territory has affected him until now.  He's slightly dizzy and just as breathless as when they made their way up, but Milan is there as his crutch.  The alpha is a pillar of support, helping him regulate his breathing and thankfully stopping the world from spinning so fast.

"Thank you," Anwyll mumbles slightly embarrassed.

The alpha nods, awkwardly coughing, "Shall we go?  The sun is about to set and the bonfire will no doubt be lit."

Hesitantly Anwyll agrees, following Milan like a lost puppy.  He can't stop his heart from galloping in his chest when Milan holds his hand just a little tighter, fingers interlacing with his own.

It's just nerves, at least that's what he tells himself.

True to the alpha's word, the sun is setting and the last few rays of orange streak the darkening sky.  But Anwyll's eyes are instantly drawn to the enormous fire lit at the center of the pack.  Soon the camp is drenched with the smell of venison and spices.  It makes Anwyll's tummy rumble, forcing him to realize how long ago he's eaten.  Milan hides his amusement, tugging on the beta's hand and leading him toward a long wooden table at the front.

Anwyll shuffles behind Milan, holding back a whine at the predatory eyes of vicious wolves following their every move with respect and awe.  Anwyll feels shy, wishing he could hide away.  Though he's always been obnoxious, he has his moments of timidness, always blending in with the crowd when he's afraid.  But now he has everyone's unwanted attention on him.

"It's okay," Milan assures, whispering into the beta's ear.

A shiver travels up Anwyll's spine at the hot breath tickling his sensitive skin.  He looks at the alpha and finds a small reassuring smile directed at him.  Without hesitating, he returns the smile.  As much as he hates this, Milan has shown nothing but kindness and honesty.

Milan finally stops at the front and bows.  Anwyll follows suit when he realizes they're in front of the Alpha Mates, Hannan and Abe.  

He drowns out the blessings bestowed upon their union, biting his lip to keep back a scoff.  He'll admit he's still bitter.

Thankfully, the small welcoming ceremony comes to an end with  words uttered firmly and proudly,  "Welcome, Anwyll of the Bluestone Moon Pack to our pack!  Our home is you home, our pack your family."

Excited howls echo through the mountains in greeting and acceptance.  Anwyll stares at his feet as the sound reaches his very core.  He feels the overwhelming joy of the rivalling pack, now his second home, through the link he shares with Milan.

He sneaks a peak at his alpha and finds the were looking at his pack in pride.  Anwyll's breath hitches.  It's the sight of a strong alpha, an alpha ready to shoulder on the world.

Anwyll sees everything he can never have and it hurts.  But he bites back the pain, the hurt, and the hate.

When the pack finally calms down and the howls are nothing more than distant echoes, Milan leads them to their seats.  The entire clearing is filled with chatter as the fire touches the sky in order to keep them warm.  Anwyll stares amazed, his chest filling with warmth at the sight.  He doesn't understand why their packs are at each other's throat.  He finds more similarities than the differences that are now blurred as he observes everyone's interactions.

He finds not simply a pack struggling to survive, but a family. 

"Aren't you going to eat?" Hanna asks after a while.

Anwyll snaps out of his thoughts and stares at the omega before glancing at the untouched food before him.  It smells amazing but...

"I'm not hungry," he lies softly.

Alpha Abe raises a brow and Anwyll can't help but be intimidated at the stare.

Milan stares at him as well and Anwyll just 
knows
 his alpha has caught him lying.

"I'm tired," Anwyll adds hurriedly, "I'm so exhausted that I'm not really hungry."

"It's not poisoned," Milan grits. 

Anwyll's face heats up, "I know that and it's not because I don't trust you, I'm just not... hungry."

The ending is cut off by the sound of cheers as music begins playing.

Milan doesn't call him out, but he won't let this go either.  Instead, he watches as Anwyll's attention is grabbed by their talented performers.  There's a small gleam of curiosity and enthusiasm in the beta's warm honey eyes.

Soon couples begin joining the center, dancing and signing along to the beat.

Milan can't take his eyes off of his bonded.  Without conscious thought, a small smile forms on his beta's lips as he snorts a giggle at the wonderful sight.

The players are on their third song when Milan gathers his courage and outstretches his hand toward Anwyll.  It takes the beta a moment to respond, but when he does, Milan doesn't let go.  He helps his bonded up and makes his way through the crowd of mingling bodies.

He presses Anwyll close to him, until they share a single breath.

Anwyll seems drunk on the alpha's scent, cheeks flushed and breath coming in short pants.

By the time they decide to stumble to their hut, the fire is nearly extinguished but the party rages on.

Anwyll can't feel his legs from dancing so much, his heart feeling heavy yet light.  

They both tumble into their hut and fall on the furs.

The beta is warm, no longer shivering and cold.

However, he now finds himself too warm as he watches Milan undress.

He gulps, hands becoming clammy.

He knows this needs to happen but he doesn't think he's ready.  Nothing can prepare him for this.

He stands up, trembling hands carefully discarding his own clothes.

Milan stares at him with dark hooded eyes.

Anwyll can't help but whimper, his unsteady hands ready to unfasten his slacks.

But the alpha stops him.

Milan has his hands on the beta's slim hips immediately, "What are you doing?"

"I-I figured that we'd... you know.  The sooner I get pregnant, the sooner we can dissolve this bond and I can get home.. I thought we would start tonight.  Who-Who knows, maybe I'll have a big litter or-"

"Anwyll," the alpha huffs.

Anwyll stops.

"We are not having sex tonight," Milan states firmly.

"We're not?" Anwyll squeaks.

Milan shakes his head, quickly turning to look away from Anwyll's embarrassed face, "You said you were exhausted and you didn't eat at the celebration.  I think I already wore you out for tonight with all the dancing.  I-I also know this is hard for you and I know you want to go home as soon as possible, but I want your comfort above all else.  For a successful pregnancy and a healthy litter of pups, you shouldn't be so stressed or we might never conceive.  I know transitioning from packs is hard on you mentally, emotionally, and physically.  So, let's... let's take it slow, okay?"

Anwyll clenches his fists tight.  He's tired and drained and... 
angry
.

"You don't know," he sneers coldly.

Milan whips around to look at the beta in surprise.

"You don't know how tired I am, how much I miss my home.  Everyone here is kind, but even I can see that it's because I'm nothing but an incubator.  I know my place, 
Alpha 

Milan
, and clearly my comfort or happiness was never in your books.  If you even had a shred of care for me, you wouldn't have picked me when I made it obvious how much I didn't want this.  But thank you for your concern.  All this will do is put off the inevitable and keep me away from my home longer."

With that said, Anwyll climbs under the furs and turns his back on the stunned alpha.  Tears prick his eyes and the room is stuffed with the overwhelming scent of bitter salt and hurt.  Anwyll hates how weak he feels.  He hates this, but what he hates most though, is that he can't find it in himself to despise Milan, no matter how hard he tries.

He just wants to curl up and sleep until this nightmare is over.

Milan swallows thickly before slipping beside Anwyll.  The darkness in their hut makes the cold between them grow with tension.

He won't lie, he feels guilty and selfish.  He chose Anwyll because he saw the beta as easy to discard afterwards.  Anwyll is right.  He's nothing but an incubator.

With his back to the beta and with pain making his throat tight, he whispers, "I'm sorry, Anwyll.

# iv

Anwyll is uneasy all morning as Milan dresses in silence.  The silence is overwhelming and tense but neither finds the strength to break it.  It's suffocating.  Anwyll opens his lips to talk, to say something.. anything.

But Milan beats him to it, "do you... do you want to come with me for a walk?"

Anwyll stares, gaping like a fish out of water in utter surprise, before nodding and breathing a small, "Sure."

Milan nods, looking a bit constipated with emotions he can't properly express.

Anwyll crawls out of the furs and changes, slowly and unintentionally seductively.  Milan reaches for the beta's arm, holding him and catching his attention.  Anwyll peers at him timidly, breath hitching in his throat.

"I want to make it special," Milan finally says, "I want our first time to be special.  You were right in many things, Anwyll, but that doesn't mean I'm completely heartless and cruel.  I want to make you comfortable.  We both have our own objective and none includes love or mating, but I want your comfort for as long as you're here.  We're not brutes and savages as your pack might have made us out to be.  We're also human.  We have hearts and we're understanding."

"I know," Anwyll whispers, "and you're not cruel, but that doesn't mean I like you or your pack.  You're still strangers, still... different.  But different doesn't mean bad, I know that now."

Those words seem to put Milan at ease.  If they can't have a functioning relationship, that's fine, so long as they make this work for as long as they have to be together.

"Thank you," the alpha says.

The walk is more like a hike, 30 minutes away from the pack camp and closer to the vast forest.  Despite being exhausted from the trek, Anwyll will admit it’s worth it.  The sight is breathtaking and beautiful as they come to a stop in a giant clearing occupied by a blooming meadow.  The air is crisp and filled with the sweet, sweet scent of poppies mixed with a few wisps of lavender. 

Anwyll is awestruck.

He looks around with a small giddiness filling his chest as he runs through the field of flowers.  It’s… It’s..

“Gorgeous,” he whispers awed.

Milan gives the beta a poorly concealed smile as he watches him rush past and stop by a deceiving flowing stream.  Anwyll is mesmerized by the swirling ripples and pools of the cold water that can only soothe his heated skin.  He can’t help himself as he curiously dips his feet in, finding the rushing waves of water soothing.

“Do you like it?” Milan asks, finding the need to hear the beta’s approval as he sets down their picnic.

“It’s amazing!” Anwyll shouts enthusiastically.

His bright eyes search for the alpha and he finds the man undressing before climbing on a small pile of boulders.

Anwyll stares.

And suddenly Milan jumps off, the shallow water seeming deeper at that end as it engulfs the alpha completely.  Anwyll holds his breath, waiting for the alpha to appear gasping for air.  But the rippling bubbles soon fade and Anwyll’s heart constricts in his chest.

He rushes toward the rocks where Milan jumped into.  He barely notices how the water pulls him deeper, licking up his skin and soaking his clothes as he wades through.  He searches and searches but finds no comfort.

He cups his hands around his mouth and calls out for the alpha, voice breaking toward the end with worry.

Until a strong arm wraps around him and pulls him under.

He closes his eyes, instinctively taking a breath as he’s encased in the water’s embrace.

When he breaks the surface, he’s face to face with Milan.  

The alpha runs his fingers through wet hair until it’s slicked back.  Anwyll should be mad.  He should be angry.

But Milan looks relaxed.  The alpha’s guard is down, revealing himself to his enemy.  To him.

“Milan,” Anwyll huffs, a small pout on his lips.

The alpha grins, “I’m sorry.”

Anwyll rolls his eyes, noting the playing tone in the alpha’s voice.  Instead of responding, he splashes the alpha before diving into the water, cutting through the glistening pool as he swims away.

They spend the entire day in the river, swimming and laughing, until their fingers become wrinkled and pruney.  Until the warmth of the sun is replaced by a shiver of the breeze.

Anwyll steps out first.

Droplets of water cling to his body and soak the clothes he never took off.  He shakes his head, letting beads of water flick off of his damp hair.  Slowly but within minutes his hair begins to dry until it’s nothing but a frizzy mess.

Milan follows him out of the water, eyes trained on the petite form of the younger beta, making sure he doesn’t slip or hurt himself.

As soon as he finds himself on land and within reach, he grabs the beta’s thin wrist in his hold, quickly capturing the beta’s attention.  Anwyll’s warm eyes widen in surprise and his mouth parts in a small “o”.

A small pulse of electricity runs through him at the touch.  He can’t stop from biting his rosy lip nervously, clammy hand cautiously reaching out and cupping the alpha’s stubbled cheek as they stare into each other’s eyes.

They’re so close now.

And he can see the speckles of gold in the alpha’s eyes, irises rimmed red with his status of power.

They’re so close now, so close that they share a single breath.

Anwyll’s heart races.  It constricts and aches and still, he takes a deep breath before he presses his lips against Milan’s.  His body flush against the alpha’s.

The kiss is… sweet.

It’s soft and slow, tentative.

There’s a whirlwind of emotions brewing inside of them, between them.

Milan has his hands on Anwyll’s hips, gently pushing the beta away and holding him in place.  He searches those wide doe eyes and finds a hint fear and timidness.  He finds himself reflected back.

“Why?” He asks softly, afaird to break this fragile moment.

“I know we have to.. we have to do this at some point,” Anwyll gulps, “and I don’t think that I’ll ever be ready, but I want to remember my first time as something.. something beautiful, something amazing, something I can only share with you whether we like it or not.  Regardless of our circumstances, I want to remember this, all of this, as something.. good .”

Milan nods, slowly understanding. 

He hadn’t planned on intimacy, just a quick fuck.  He didn’t want the reminders, the possible attachment from his potential bonded.  But Anwyll is his bonded.  Anwyll is the one he’s standing before.  The beta who’s scared and nervous, the beta who’s bare for the world to see.

And he knows he could never do that to Anwyll, could never hurt the beta and treat him like a quick fuck.  Never .

So, this time he leans in.  He kisses Anwyll deeply, tongue asking for permission, exploring and probing the warm heat languidly.  He kisses his bonded until neither can breathe properly, until all Anwyll can feel, can think of, is Milan.

Milan who sneaks his hands under Anwyll’s wet clothes, his warm callous hands tickling sensitive skin.   The beta arches into the sinful touch, a soft moan on his lips.

And soon he’s naked.

His back is carefully pressed against a bed of greenery, cold body covered by Milan’s heat.

He wants more. 

He wants to feel more.

He wants more than just teasing touches.

He wants Milan.

The alpha guides him onto his hands and knees, peppering soft kisses against the beta’s lithe body.  He starts with a press of warm lips to Anwyll’s shoulder blade, working his way down and bypassing the little rosette exposed for his eyes to see.

“Please,” the beta whimpers breathily.

Milan knows exactly how to break him.

The alpha takes him apart and puts him together in a completely new way.

He’s torturously slow.

Teasing and pushing Anwyll to his limit.

Milan reaches for a bottle of lube, slicking up his fingers before carefully entering the tightly wound up body beneath him in a fluid motion one by one, each finger ripping a gasp from the beta’s throat.  Anwyll whimpers in pain at the sudden intrusion, the discomfort too much and still not enough.  He sobs when he feels the alpha move his fingers.  In and out, rhythmically until all he can do is beg for another.

“More,” he chokes, “Please, more, Milan, please!”

Milan pulls his fingers out before aligning his slick throbbing cock to Anwyll’s little twitching hole.  Anwyll fists the grass, a whimper falling from his lips when his alpha finally pushes in.

The glide is painful.

It’s so much, so much more than the alpha’s deliciously thick fingers. 

Anwyll is stuffed full with Milan’s thick cock, breathlessly waiting for the man to thrust into him, to use and abuse him.

But Milan is not ruthless.

He waits as much as it pains him.

He holds onto Anwyll’s hips in a bruising grip, panting harshly against the beta’s ear as he holds back.  He slips his hand inside Anwyll’s death grip, fingers interlacing when Anwyll nods, hips pushing back.

Milan sets the pace.

He fucks Anwyll until the beta can’t think straight, until all he can think of is his alpha.  Until all he can cry out is a litany of curses and Milan’s name like a prayer.

“More!” He gasps, “Please Milan, faster, harder !  Milan!”

Milan gives him what he wants.  Grunting as he fucks him.

It’s quick and dirty, knot forming at the base of the alpha’s throbbing cock and ready to burst in minutes.

Anwyll cries out.

His back arches at a particular thrust, the friction is too much.

He chokes out, tears spilling from his tightly closed eyes and rolling down flushed cheeks as he orgasms.

It burns.

Milan shoves his knot inside the beta, rutting against him until he spills deep inside.

Anwyll can’t help but bite his forearm to muffle his cry.

It’s too much.

It’s too real.

And Milan, he struggles to keep himself sane.

His canines lengthen, his instincts telling him to claim, to bite.  His wolf demanding him to mate and fuck.

Anwyll should be theirs, Anwyll

is

theirs.

But he holds back.

He bites his tongue until he tastes blood, pressing just a bit more inside Anwyll until the beta can’t take anymore cum.

Anwyll is weak.

His arms and thighs are trembling with effort.  Everything hurts and Milan realizes his mistake.  Anwyll is beta.  He’s not meant to take an alpha’s knot so unprepared.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks weakly, carefully shifting, but tearing a pained cry from Anwyll regardless of his care.

A soft keen falls from Anwyll, refusing to move so the knot doesn’t pull and hurt.

“Sorry, Anwyll,” Milan repeats, nuzzling the beta’s neck as they lay on their sides.

“’s okay,” Anwyll slurs.

He knew what it meant to take an alpha’s knot.  He knew it would hurt.

“’m okay,” he mumbles tiredly.

Milan huffs, grooming the beta until soft snores fill in the silence around him.

Milan is… confused.

Anwyll is sweet and funny.  He’s not at all like he expected the rude beta from before to be.  And his scent.

Despite being clouded with hints of pain, his scent was laced with arousal and want.  So sweet, so sharp and thick.  Milan is hung up on him.  He can’t stop from burying his nose against the beta’s neck and relishing the scent.  And now it’s more intoxicating.  It’s stirring things inside Milan he never expected.  They fit perfectly, their scents mixing just right into something new, something them .

But Milan knows better.

He already knows the high that comes from fucking someone.  He already knows how dangerously intoxicating combined scent can be, how stupid it can be to enjoy it.

He refuses to fall.

No matter what his wolf decides, Anwyll will never be his mate.

He’ll never fall for a beta.

v

Milan carries Anwyll home, the light beta sleeping soundly in his arms.

Their hut still smells foreign, but their mixing scent is slowly drenching the walls like a spreading fire.

There’s a soft moan on Anwyll’s lips, calling the alpha’s name sleepily and breathlessly, “ Milan .“

The soft sound wraps around the alpha’s heart and clenches it tight, but he places the beta down gently on their furs nonetheless.

Still, he finds himself hesitating, admiring Anwyll as he sleeps before ripping his gaze away and heading out. He trudges toward the edge of the forest where a group of hunters gather to go in search of dinner.

Three months.

Three months of trying.

The pack healer, Theodore, shakes his head solemnly.

Three months of trying 
and failing
.

Anwyll sighs, fixing his skewed clothes before standing.

"I'm sorry, Anwyll," Theodore says sympathetically.

"I just.. I don't understand," Anwyll frowns, feeling small and insecure.

"You must know that there's no guarantee of getting pregnant when a couple just starts trying."

"It's been a little over three months," Anwyll reminds, "we didn't just start last night."

The younger man doesn't let the kind healer continue with his false assurances that do nothing to alleviate this festering feeling of failure.

He walks out the healer's quarters with disappointment, his mood sour and full of hurt. 

He goes in search of Milan, hating how the alpha's eyes light up when he catches sight of the beta before they dim with disappointment at the shake of his head.

It hurts to see Milan excited only to be crushed.

It's something he can share with Milan, the hurt and disappointment. And he knows he shouldn't be getting attached to the idea, but he can't help it. These months have been... amazing. Milan has been kind, everyone has. And he's slowly falling in love. He shouldn't, he really shouldn't. Love was never in the equation, but for now he allows himself to feel, to dream and hope. Just to make this bearable.

Soon enough, he spots the older man ready to go with a group of hunters and gatherers. But stops mid step when he catches whispers of gossip from the alphas gathered around, voicing their concerns to their soon-to-be alpha leader.

"It's been three moons, now Milan. What if they gave you a defective one," someone wonders.

"Anwyll is not defective and they didn't give him to me, he's a were, a person, not property. Above all else, I chose him."

"But still no child, how is he supposed to bear six?"

"He's not a baby making machine," Milan growls.

"But isn't that the point of this bond? Just get the pups and then give him back to his oh-so-great pack."

Someone else chirps in, "Maybe he's doing it on purpose."

"He's defective," another insists.

Anwyll's heart hurts as it tightens.

Tears well up in his eyes as he looks down. He knows he's a failure, he feels it everytime he gets a negative result. But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt any less when someone else points it out.

"He's a waste of space," an alpha sneers, "He's been here eating the food we barely have and does nothing to contribute to the pack, can't even bear a pup like he's supposed to. He's simply using our resources like a--"

A harsh growl rips from Milan's lips, sharp canines bared as he grabs the alpha by the neck and slams him against a nearby tree.

The alpha sees red as they continue insulting Anwyll in front of him as if Anwyll were nothing.

He's furious!

"Don't you dare talk about Anwyll like that again," he spits.

The arrogant alpha struggles in Milan's death grip, breathing harshly.

Anwyll decides that's enough, that he should intervene before there's blood, "Alpha!"

And it's Anwyll's sweet voice that draws Milan away from the ignorant fool before him. It's Anwyll's voice that calms his raging wolf.

He approaches the beta, burying his nose in the younger's neck and taking a deep breath. He finds their scents mixed together perfectly. It's soothing like a cool balm to his aching heart.

"It's okay," Anwyll whispers, hands running up and down the alpha's tense back.

"No," Milan huffs, voice muffled against the beta's smooth skin, "they have no right to talk about you like that. You're pack now, they have to respect you."

Anwyll hides a small sad smile.

No matter what Milan says, what he thinks, the pack doesn't owe him anything.

When he comes back from scavenging, Milan finds his bonded in the pack hut curled up with a tome in his hands. The sun has long gone disappeared behind the mountains and the stars have come out to play. Everything is quiet aside from the soft crackling of the fire stroked high enough to illuminate the room.

“Are you hungry?” He asks the beta softly.

“No,” Anwyll whispers, eyes droopy as he skims the last page.

“Come, let’s go eat.”

“No,” the beta repeats.

“Anwyll-”

“I want to try something,” he interrupts before the alpha can get irritated.

“What?”

Anwyll waves the alpha over, listening to the alpha’s steps until he feels the man’s breath on his skin.

“What did you find?” Milan wonders, leaning over the beta.

“It’s a ritual,” Anwyll breathes, “to increase fertility within the pack and land.”

“You want to–”

“Yes,” he nods.

He’s tired of pretending he doesn’t care about the alpha. He needs to… to do his part without letting his feelings interfere. He just wants to get this over with so he can go back home and cry his heart out when he has nothing left but memories of smooth skin, hoarse voice, and hard fucking. In the end, he knows he can never be Milan’s. The alpha has made it clear again and again.

“This can’t go on,” he adds softly.

“It’s not like we’re not trying,” Milan huffs.

“I know,” Anwyll sighs, “but I’m tired, I’m tired of the stares and the disappointment–”

“You don’t have to pay them any mind, it’s not your fault,” the older man insists.

“But it is, isn’t it? You thinks so too, I know it.”

“And I’ll tell you this now. You are wrong. I don’t think anything like that about you. Everyone’s worried, of course, but these things take time. You and I both know this.”

“I know, but can we just.. can we please just try this? I think.. I think it’ll be my last effort. If I don’t get pregnant, then maybe it’s best you chose someone else.”

Milan clenches his hand into a fist, he hates the stench of hurt wafting from the young beta. Can’t he see that he doesn’t want anyone else?

But he concedes, because Anwyll looks so tired… so defeated , “Okay… when?”

“Your next rut.”

Milan's next rut happens to coincide with a full moon.

Anwyll can't help but feel excitement and apprehension. If they do this right, then maybe..

"Let's go," the beta urges.

They sneak out of pack territory and head toward their meadow of poppies and lavender. It's a scent that brings comfort and has clung to their bodies since the very first night they spent together.

Anwyll sets everything up.

He lays their small camping bag on a patch of wild grass and takes out some rosemary oil for lube. He doesn't waste time undressing, folding his clothes and placing them in a neat pile.

They've done this dozens of times.

And as much as Anwyll would like to face Milan like their first time, he knows it'll only hurt more when he says goodbye. So, he gets on his hands and knees, wiggling his pert ass in presentation to his alpha and tries to ignore the need to see Milan.

Milan, although he feels uncomfortable in his own skin and wants nothing more than to be buried inside Anwyll, shakes his head. He crosses his arms over his chest with a frown on his face.

"Alpha?" Anwyll calls, voice filled with confusion as he looks back.

It's hard for Milan to think.

Anwyll's scent has been getting progressively sweeter, softer around the edges but sharp. He almost smells like an omega in pre-heat.

Anwyll bites his bottom lip, is Milan having second thoughts?

"Alpha?"

And it's that voice again, the flush high on the beta's cheeks that breaks him and draws him to the beta. 

"Milan?"

The alpha loses his internal battle and stalks toward the beta like a feral wolf, irises rimmed red.

A small gasp falls from Anwyll's lips when he feels a rough tongue on his twitching little hole already prepared for this moment.

Milan has never done this before, not to Anwyll.

"Mi-Milan?" Anwyll moans.

The alpha growls, loving how his name sounds on the beta's lips. He wrecks the beta, eats him out until Anwyll is a trembling mess.

He's so close.

He shuts his eyes, a whimpered stop making the alpha back away within seconds.

"Did... Did I hurt you?" Milan asks through sharp canines, eyes wide.

"N-No," Anwyll moans, breathing harshly, "just want to.. to come on your knot."

Those words, that voice, stirs something in Milan.

They've never spent a rut together, Milan always too afraid of hurting Anwyll.

But he can't and won't hold back tonight, not when his pretty beta is begging him with those gorgeous hazy eyes.

He grabs the oil tossed precariously beside their sweat slicked bodies and coats his aching cock with oil generously. He carefully, painfully slowly, slips inside Anwyll's tight heat ripping a moan from the beta.

"Fuck," Milan curses, burying himself to the hilt, holding himself back just a bit.

Anwyll's head hangs low, panting harshly and trying to ignore the overwhelming burn at the delicious stretch of his alpha's cock.

"Mo-Move," he chokes out, hips pushing back against the alpha.

Anwyll doesn't have to tell him twice before he's thrusting into the beta fast and hard, until Anwyll is a sobbing mess of pleasure.

The beta can barely think, babbling nonsense on how good it feels, how big his alpha is, how perfect.

Milan growls, hands grasping Anwyll's lithe hips tightly until bruises form and claws dig into pale skin.

"More," Anwyll gasps.

Milan growls, feeling his knot expand at the base. 

He's so close.

"Please, Alpha," his beta begs, "
please
."

Milan howls, burying himself as deep as he can go until he's locked inside Anwyll. Anwyll, his precious little beta, grabs his hands and places them on his distended belly as he spills inside.

The beta's eyes glow a rich gold as he recites the ritual and spills onto the forest ground below their connected bodies. Hoping against all odds that they conceive.

"
Mother of Gaia and Goddess of the moon, 

Our strength and protection,

Of fertility and fruition,

Please accept this offering

And in return

Bless us with a child

All be well,

So mote it be.
"

There's a soft thrumming of electricity jolting through their bodies as he finishes the chant, salty tears welling up in his eyes and rolling down his cheeks.

Milan slips free from the beta, gently turning him around to face him. 

Anwyll can't look at the alpha though. He can't bring himself to see the man.

But Milan doesn't let that stop him from pressing soft kiss after kiss to Anwyll's cheek for each tear he cries.

# vi

The following days finds Anwyll burning in a fever that doesn't seem to break.  He's flushed and sweating, body aching and needy.  He curls up in their pile of furs, trembling and shivering uncontrollably as he tries to make himself small.

He's in heat and Milan can't control himself.

He doesn't have the capacity to think, all he knows is that Anwyll is hurting.  The young bet- no, the young 
omega
, is suffering and crying for him, for his alpha.

They spend a week of frenzy fucking and knotting, breathing harshly against each other's sweaty skin as they calm from their euphoric high only to start again.

It's on the fourth day after a round of feral sex, that Milan pauses after finding a small reprieve to properly think.

"Anwyll," he calls hoarsely. 

"Hm?" Anwyll responds sleepily.

"Omega," he says softly.

Anwyll turns to look at his alpha, eyes burning a bright lilac in response.  No longer are they the typical beta gold.  They're brighter, gaze softer when they glance at Milan.

"How?" The alpha asks, brows furrowed in confusion. 

"I don't know," Anwyll whispers, "I never had a heat or a rut and my eyes never changed color, I had always assumed I was beta.. I don't know why.. how."

"The ritual, do you think..?"

"No," Anwyll shakes his head, "not even the gods and goddesses would be that generous, I think.. maybe I was always omega, I just never really changed.  I certainly didn't feel like just a beta, but I didn't know.  I didn't trick you on purpose or anything-"

"I know you didn't," Milan assures, "you looked beta, certainly were beta at the time, but I'll admit that your smell was always a hint sweeter, like an omega.  I didn't think anything of it, a majority of your siblings are omega and I simply thought that that was it.  I'm not angry, nor do I feel played like a fool.  I'm just.. surprised.  I'm still wrapping my head around it to be honest.  I'm just wondering why you presented now, so late."

"I think," Anwyll mumbles, "the ritual combined with the maddening scent of your rut might have forced my body into heat."

Milan nuzzles against Anwyll, pressing a kiss to soft skin, "should I apologize?"

"No, actually," Anwyll adds softly, "I want to thank you."

"For what?"

"Helping me through it.  I didn't know what was happening.  It hurt and I was terrified, but you were there and you helped.  You anchored me."

"I wasn't much help, I was just as delirious as you, in my rut.  And although I was so scared of hurting you, I simply followed my instincts.  I did what felt right, for you and for me."

After nearly a week of constant sex, both Anwyll and Milan are relieved when their heat and rut simultaneously break.

They’re left exhausted, they’re hut smelling completely of them in a perfect blend of earthy scents.

“I’ll be right back,” Milan promises.

Anwyll squints up at the alpha looking adorably confused and disoriented, “where ‘re you goin’?”

“Food,” Milan answers as he changes, “and I’m going to bring Theodore.”

“M’kay.”

Anwyll sighs softly, watching the alpha disappear through the door.  He’s tired and incredibly sore, can barely even move without wincing, but he’s content.

He tries to change, limping about their hut and grimacing at the feel of slick and cum dribbling down his thighs as he moves about.  He feels… stuffed and it makes his cheeks burn red at the feeling, of the thought.  A shiver runs down his spine at the memories.  When he closes his eyes he can still feel Milan’s callous hands on his lithe body, ghosting his sensitive skin and bringing him the constant reminder of what he can’t have.  And just like that the fantasy breaks.

He looks at his swollen belly and hopes this is it.

“Anwyll?”

Anwyll looks toward the door where he finds Milan with a teeming plate of foods and the pack healer looking amused.

“Tha-Thank you, Alpha,” he stammers shyly, letting Milan lead him toward the furs near the fireplace and away from their… marital bed of stained furs.

Anwyll knows that Theodore, as a beta, won’t be able to smell the sex in the air or their overwhelming scents filling their hut, much like an omega won’t be able to smell the scent of another omega in heat.  But that doesn’t stop the embarrassment the couple might feel from coloring their cheeks.  Anwyll is still mortified when Theodore looks around and asks questions when realization dawns on him.

Anwyll chews on some bread as he lets Milan explain.

There’s only so much Anwyll can take.

Thankfully, after a small examination, Theodore declares Anwyll in perfect health and he leaves with a small reassuring smile toward the newly presented omega.

A few weeks later Anwyll is trailing after Milan for a picnic in their meadow when he's struck with the sense of nausea and vertigo.

He tugs on Milan's shirt, looking at the alpha pleadingly as he pales, staggering slightly with each step he forces himself to take.

"Anwyll?" Milan asks, basket of fruits and meats forgotten as he helps Anwyll sit atop a fallen log nearby.

His priority is always his omega, his safety, and well-being.

"Sorry," Anwyll pants softly, "dizzy, nauseous."

"It's okay," the alpha soothes, lowering his voice to calm his stressed omega, "take a deep breath."

Anwyll does as told, breathing in deeply a few times before he finally feels the churning nausea retreat.

"Sorry, Milan," Anwyll repeats weakly, color finally returning to his pallid face.

"It's okay, it's fine, sweetling," Milan repeats, relief seeping into his voice.

The omega freezes, his breath catching at that, head tilted and wide eyes staring at the alpha in surprise.

It's the first time he's heard Milan call him anything other than his given name with such reverence.  Such softness.

And in that moment they're in a trance, eyes locking on one another, Anwyll searching for something that he can't define.  Searching for something more, something he's unsure Milan will ever give him.

It's then that Milan realizes his mistake, as Anwyll makes to pull away, to shy back, only for his large hand to grasp the omega's thin wrist and hold on fast.

It's not a mistake.

He knows.

They both do.

"Anwyll," Milan whispers.

The omega opens his mouth, ready to stop the alpha.  Ready to protect his heart from hurting and breaking if Milan says it.  But Milan won't ever hurt him, he knows this and it terrifies him because this is real.  His heart beating inside his chest, his sweaty palms and rosy cheeks.  He knows it's too late.

He feels Milan's lips on his.  His eyes widen in surprise before they flutter closed at the sweet sensation.  Sensitive tears spilling down his cheeks. His aching heart engulfed in warmth.  This kiss is unlike anything they've ever shared.  It's.. different.  It's filled and overflowing with so much love and adoration.

Five months of living like strangers, of feeling uncomfortable or disposable.  Five months of feeling unwanted and in disappointment after not being able to conceive.  Five months of angst and hurt.

Only to have those stressful moments melt away with one kiss of realization.

"I love you," Milan whispers breathlessly as they part, "I love you, Anwyll."

Anwyll feels the stubborn tears well up in his eyes again as he hugs Milan tightly, "I love you too, Milan."

It's like being able to breathe again.

Saying those words have lifted a crushing weight off of the omega's chest and he can't help himself as he repeats those words again and again.

"I love you, I love you, I love you, Milan, so much."

Milan grins, kissing Anwyll with fervour, "I love you."

# author's note

Hello!

I know there's so much more I can do with this story, and I'd love to continue it but I'll have to stop here for now. 

Mostly because my motivation is shot.

On the bright side, it's "completed" on a happy note. 

Maybe I'll come back to it later, but I never intended for it to drag for too long.

Sorry if anyone looked forward for more in this story.  I'll consider picking it up again in a few months, maybe when life isn't so hectic.

Another reason too, is that there's a story I want to work on that is very personal and has taken me a while to figure out.

Hopefully I'll get around to posting that up soon.

So, thank you for your patience and support 😊

I'll be updating stories as I go.

Update:  I'm back 🤗

# vii

This time it isn't frenzy fucking like the relentless heat week they spent together. No, Milan takes his sweet time unveiling pale skin, ripping apart clothing piece by piece until Anwyll is exposed for his eyes to see, to drink.

He grabs the bottle of oil and begins a slow massage of Anwyll's swollen ankles before working hard calfs and trembling thighs. He rubs the oil on Anwyll's quivering belly with his left hand, soothing circles working the soft skin, as his other hand trails up Anwyll's thigh and teases his little puckered hole before sinking into the tight heat.

The intrusion makes Anwyll gasp, his back arching off the grassy ground as Milan works two fingers into his slick warmth.

He takes pleasure in teasing Anwyll's prostate as his thumb gently caresses his omega's perineum. A simple brush of his other fingers against Anwyll's budding nipple makes his omega orgasm, hot cum landing on his tummy as he moans.

He's left pliant and soft when Milan pulls back.  Lips parting on a whimper at the loss.

Milan softly hushes his omega as he slips inside. His throbbing erection filling Anwyll so perfectly, so good it makes him cry. His blunt nails dragging across the alpha's back and leaving welts that heal in moments.

Milan grinds their hips together, his mouth salivating and gums tingling.  His canines descend.

Tonight.

Tonight he'll break their bond.

Tonight they'll mate.

Without hesitation, Milan bites down, buries himself one last time inside Anwyll as his knot ties them together and spills inside his omega, 
his mate.

Anwyll cries out at the intense pleasure that crests over him and pushes him to the edge.

He bites on Milan's mating gland just as hard, climaxing between their sweat slicked bodies.

He's left shivering, trembling, and exhausted.

"You're okay," Milan coos softly, breath tickling Anwyll's ear as he licks the tears away, "I've got you, sweetling, you're okay. You're mine."

"Yours," Anwyll sobs, fading in and out of consciousness, "I'm yours."

Immediately their blood bond is replaced with something stronger, something theirs. It feels like home. It feels good. Feels 
right
.

"I love you," Anwyll whimpers, "I love you."

"Love you too, my little omega, I love you too."

A small smile graces Anwyll's lips as he fights the urge to sleep. Milan let's him. He holds him tight in his arms and doesn't let go, not yet.

Their mating still too new to separate. But they don't mind. Neither care about the cooling sweat or cum sticking to their skin.

"Sleep," he whispers, "I'll be here when you wake."

Anwyll nods and finally gives in.

He's safe.

He's loved.

Most of all, he's wanted.

He buries his flushed face in Milan's neck and sighs, his hand trailing down to his belly.

He closes his eyes and smiles as his heart skips a beat.

Anwyll scrunches his nose when Milan wakes him from his nap. The moment he gets a whiff of the food his face pales. Immediately he declines eating, something he hasn’t done since his arrival to the pack.

“Are you sure?” Milan asks, taking a seat beside his lover, his mate.

A hand rests atop Anwyll’s hip, body bringing the smell of food closer.

“Oh god,” Anwyll whimpers, burying his face in the furs, trying to breathe through his mouth, “I’m sure, get rid of it. It stinks.”

The alpha frowns as he sniffs at the meat he snatched from the kitchen making preparations for the equinox. It smells good. It’s fresh with just a hint of rawness in the middle. Just like Anwyll likes it. But it’s enough to have Anwyll heaving now.

“Easy,” Milan soothes, rubbing his hand on Anwyll’s back as he discards the meat, “deep breaths.”

“Sorry,” Anwyll coughs weakly, spitting the remnants of his sick out of his system.

“You’re okay,” Milan says.

Anwyll nods, taking another deep shuddering breath.

“Do you still want to see the celebrations?” The alpha asks.

“Yes,” Anwyll answers automatically, “of course.”

Milan can’t help but smile, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Anwyll’s warm forehead, “okay, if you’re sure, get ready.”

The omega nods as he stands, ready to dress up and hide his mating mark just as Milan has done for the past few days.

As Milan looks at his omega, he can’t stop the crinkle of worry that furrows his brows. Though Anwyll has always felt better after his bouts of sickness these past few weeks, it doesn’t make his alpha worry any less.

The alpha watches his omega stare at his reflection, smiling proudly when he catches sight of the alpha’s mating mark on his neck.

Milan takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around Anwyll’s middle, growling pleased against the omega’s ear in contentment.

Anwyll, despite the sickness, smells of happiness and home, it makes Milan dizzy with love and want.

But they both know they have to keep this a secret, just until they can arrange a meeting with Anwyll’s pack to inform them that the blood bond was nullified and replaced with a proper mating bond. Something much deeper, something that runs through their veins.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” The alpha asks again, nuzzling his mate’s neck just above his bite mark.

Anwyll nods, smile ever present, “yes, we’re okay.

Milan grins back, kissing the mating mark on the omega’s neck before grasping his smaller hand and tugging him toward the entrance of their hut. Their home.

“Then let’s go, they’re setting up now.”

Anwyll follows Milan without complaint, fixing the fabric of his tunic to hide his mark from prying eyes. He doesn’t mind this, he wants to enjoy getting to know Milan, to know his mate without others probing at their relationship. It’s simple and easy.

Once his own pack is made aware, they’ll shout it to the world that they’re mated and that thought is more than enough comfort.

“I love you,” Milan whispers as they edge toward the beginning of a bonfire.

Before Anwyll can respond, pack mates approach and surround their soon-to-be head alpha.

Anwyll excuses himself, shying away from scrutinizing eyes and sitting across from Hannan and Abe.

Teeming food and flavorful wine that took months to fermentate for the spring equinox is passed around. It smells… it smells disgusting.

Anwyll stares at his plate, face turning a green pallor as he covers his mouth with his hand. He thinks he’s going to be sick again.

Quickly, he pushes back and stands, hurrying away from the table, from the pack.

He hears his name being called, but he only stops when he’s far away from the pack, from the overwhelming smell of elk.

“Anwyll?”

Anwyll looks up, the motion turning his stomach as the world jerks and spins.

He can’t help but sick up, heave whatever was in his stomach until his head hurts. He groans pitifully, whimpers in growing pain until there’s nothing left to throw up.

A gentle cool hand brushes his hair back reassuringly, touches his neck and pushes back the too warm cloth from his skin only to gasp at the discovery of an angry red bite mark in the juncture of Anwyll’s neck and shoulder.

“Mother,” Milan calls.

“You mated him,” Hannan whispers, the shock loud enough to carry over to Milan’s father.

“You did what?!” The alpha leader explodes.

The anger of a strong alpha draws a pitiful cry of Anwyll’s lips as he staggers back in fright. Milan reaches out immediately, the omega burying his face in his alpha’s chest and hiding from the wrath of the alpha pair.

Hannan frowns at the display, the display only an omega would do, “Milan… what is going on?”

Milan swallows thickly, “I uh, mated Anwyll.”

“We can see that,” Alpha Abe glowers, “why in the world would you do that? Our agreement with the Bluestone Mo-”

“He’s an omega,” Hannan interrupts.

It’s enough to stop Abe’s tirade, “I’m sorry what?”

“I think,” Anwyll gasps, adding weakly, “I think I’m pregnant.”

And the world tilts. It becomes hazy as he collapses.

Milan catches him before hes hurt, but his alpha howl is enough to alert the pack.

“Get Theo,” Hannan orders.

Abe stares in shock.

“Go!”

Abe nods quickly before scurrying in search of their pack healer.

Milan looks up at his mother pleadingly, holding Anwyll tighter.

“He’s okay,” Hannan assures, kneeling beside the couple, “he’s just tired, morning sickness does that.”

“You think…” Milan trails off, not daring to hope.

“He smells like it,” Hannan smiles giddily, “he smells like a new beginning.”

Milan swallows thickly, nodding.

He can do this, he can be the alpha Anwyll needs. Anwyll and their… their pup.

“Mil?” his omega whimpers, tiredily.

“I’m here, love, I’m right here.”

Milan regrets pushing his omega, regrets not urging him to stay in their hut, to rest more.

“We’re okay,” Anwyll repeats, softly, stronger.

Milan snorts, “you knew.”

Anwyll smiles, “I suspected, I… I wanted to make sure though, I didn’t want to disappoint you again, I-”

“Hush,” Milan says, “You’ve never disappointed me and you never will. I love you, Anwyll.”

Their healer arrives just then, looking at the couple slightly out of breath, “Alpha Milan, Omega Anwyll, Alpha Mate Hannan.”

“Theo,” Hannan greets, pushing the beta toward the couple, “tend to him.”

“Of course,” Theo agrees without hesitation.

Anwyll sucks in a breath when Theo starts probing at his swelling belly, humming in though as he does his examination.

Tense minutes pass by and Abe has half a mind to demand an answer already.

It’s then that Theo looks at the expectant couple with a smile and a nod, “you’re pregnant, Anwyll.”

Anwyll’s smile grows wider, tears still blurring his vision.

“Holy shit,” Milan chokes, looking into his mate’s tear filled eyes.

“Our pup,” Anwyll agrees emotional, “our little pup.”

“We’ll give you some time,” Hannan coughs, clearing his throat of emotion, ruffling both his son’s and Anwyll’s messy hair.

He pulls his shocked mate away from the scene.

“We can’t wait to meet you,” Milan coos to Anwyll’s belly, rubbing the soft skin after sneaking his hand under his omega’s shirt.

“We can’t wait to hold you,” Anwyll agrees, interlocking their hands over his tummy.

If they spend the rest of the night curled up together, the sounds of celebration long forgotten, no one dares to disturb them.