Haley blew long blonde hair from her face and glared at Milo. “I went for a walk,” she snapped, darting a glance at Keon. “There’s nothing else to do.”
He laughed, an automatic reaction to the petulance. “What did you expect? A circus? A movie theatre? Maybe a club?” he asked, wondering what she thought she’d find. According to Milo, Thatcher’s pack was more utilitarian than Simeon’s rule.
Raising an eyebrow, Haley scraped her teeth over the wooden skewer to remove a bite of chicken, deliberately grating. “You could have more for the younger generation than screwing.”
“Haley!” Milo snapped, his patience run ragged.
Keon had given him time to do his replacement-parent job, but the Alpha would always be the true authority figure in the room. One Haley couldn’t ignore. “If you’d open your eyes and look at something beyond your reflection,” he warned, maintaining eye contact, “you’ll see plenty. If you’re bored, we have a book club. A music group meets in the forest. We have classes in carpentry, athletics, and crafts on various days of the week. We have a pack hunt once a month, and anyone is welcome to arrange a hunt during the intermediate time with prior warning.”
The pack weren’t lazy or directionless. Haley had barely given the pack the time of day, and hadn’t spent time with Milo. Not a ‘thank you’ for rescuing her ungrateful ass. She tolerated life here, petulant about losing her position of Alpha’s daughter, and the status it afforded her.
“Inthispack, every member is equal. No one is exempt from contributing and no one is beyond reproach. If you don’t behave, I’ll ship you to your father.” An empty threat, because it was Milo who wanted her here and Keon would do anything to keep him happy, but he was sorely tempted.
“I wish you would.”
“Enough!” Milo shouted, hand shaking as he raked it through his hair. “To think you can sit across the table from me and spout those words, knowing what going back would mean for us. What we’d lose. What we’d suffer. Or don’t you care, because you lived like a queen despite the prison I was trapped in?” He shook his head, shoulders relaxing a fraction when Keon took his hand and brushed a thumb across his knuckles. A reminder he wasn’t alone.
Milo nodded at the silent warning to not let Haley hurt him. He raised his head and met her blazing gaze without flinching. “Go to your room,” he said, before focusing his attention on his meal. “If you can’t show the proper gratitude for the freedom we’ve given you, and respect your Alpha in his home, you’re grounded.” Milo raised his head, eyes cold as ice. “I’m sick of this self-righteous shit. The next time you demand to return to our father, be sure you mean it, because I’ll send you. But you can guarantee you’ll never see me again.I’myour family, not that man. He wasnevera father to us.”
The line had been drawn. Though Haley looked shocked, Milo had made his position clear. In choosing her life of luxury with Thatcher, she would lose Milo. Forever. Tough love was risky, but Keon was proud of Milo. Haley had pushed their limits, until he was ready to lay out real punishments. The reminder Haley was the sole family Milo had, and she wasn’t Keon’s family member, left him hesitant to make it worse.
Milo had left the decision in her hands. She either chose him and a future of freedom, or went back to being a prisoner and a princess.
Reaching across the table, Keon offered Weston a supportive squeeze of his fingers, acknowledging he would have killed for Haley’s freedoms at her age. Instead, he’d lost his best friend, and true mate. Haley was luckier than she knew. A privileged princess, with the world at her feet, if she opened her eyes to reality.
*
BY THE ENDof the night, exhaustion battled with logic. Keon slipped into bed as Milo shuffled to his side, crutches held in tight grips. He manoeuvred effortlessly to sit on the edge of the bed, laying his crutches against the corner wall. He gripped the bottom of his T-shirt, lifting to reveal a sleek, bare back.
Keon lay on his side, propped his head on his hand and enjoyed the view, tempted to touch. Milo didn’t seem aware of him, tossing his T-shirt onto the chair against the wall, shifting to lie back, and pushing off his jeans and boxers to add to the pile of clothes.
Despite his normally fastidious nature, clothes remained one possession Milo didn’t care about. Probably because he’d never had anything decent to wear, besides hand-me-downs. With nothing to call his, until Robell brought a duffel bag of new clothes from Drew, which he treated like treasure.
Tonight, Keon understood the discarded clothes were a symbol of his frustration with Haley and a preoccupied mind. Bypassing words, he pressed his elbow beside Milo’s pillow, caressing his cheek with one hand as he bent to kiss his lips.
The change was immediate. Milo melted into his touch, hand rising to his cheek, eyes clearing of anything but warmth and affection.
“I’m sorry about Haley,” Keon whispered, caressing the fringe from Milo’s eyes. “I’m sorry she doesn’t understand everything you went through, or how hard it is to imagine her trapped with your father. I’m sorry she doesn’t see she was in danger,” he said, needing Milo to hear and know his fears were acknowledged and shared.
Milo shrugged but didn’t retreat, letting his thumb drift over Keon’s jaw to his shoulder. “I don’t understand why she wants to leave.”
“She’s Thatcher’s daughter, and she’s fifteen.” Keon shrugged at the unfortunate but simple fact. “She’s headstrong, independent, and had a line of strapping young m’weko waiting to mate the Alpha’s daughter for a boost in status,” he reasoned, because it was the harsh truth. “People like Simeon would have used her to challenge your father. From what you said about Usher, he’d never see it coming.”
“Yeah, thick as two planks when it comes to politics,” Milo confessed, an adorable snort slipping free, fingers tracing the curve of Keon’s shoulder, finding comfort in the act. “You’re right. I’m protecting her by bringing her here.”
“You’ve always put her first.” Keon kissed his forehead with the reminder. Everything he’d done, for years, had been to keep Haley safe. Abandoning his passion for medicine, never going to Dnara, becoming Beta, and the fight that crippled him were all endured to let Haley live her safe, oblivious life.
Which made this the perfect time to approach another problematic issue. “Since we’re already in a state of flux, we should move into the Pack-House,” Keon said, the idea refusing to leave him in peace. “You need more space to study and work, I need my study, and Haley needs space to be a teenager. The house has two wings, where you and I can have our private space and Weston can have his. Haley can make do with the main living space downstairs and her bedroom.”
Nibbling his bottom lip, Milo cocked his head. “Are you making sure Haley can’t walk in on us?” he asked, a twitch of lips promising he felt better.
Keon shrugged, refusing to deny it. “You know me, I don’t want to sacrifice certain freedoms. Like this,” he confessed with another light kiss. He loved this. Banter or teasing, it made Keon feel normal. Like he was more than the man in charge.
“I like it too.” Milo returned the kiss. “Okay. We can look at the house, once you’re not busy. We’ll see what needs to be done and whether we can move in,” he said, as trusting and supportive as day one.
Whatever Keon had done to deserve a mate like Milo, he thanked the Mother every day.
“Thank you,” Milo said, before he could get the same words out. “For always thinking about me, my needs, my comfort. Somehow, you know the right balance between helping and not treating me like an invalid. You want me to be independent, not relying on you for the small tasks, if it’s possible to do them myself. You step aside, when you want to help, because you know I can do it. When it’s hard and I’m tired, you’re willing to wait for me to ask for help.”
