“Okay.” He didn’t argue, but Keon wasn’t convinced. Whenever Haley acted out, he’d change his mind.
He’d deal with that later. It was time to get moving, or he’d throw Milo onto the sofa and tell the rest of the world to go fuck itself.
*
Milo
“IS IT TOOmuch?”
Milo blinked up at Keon, confused by the question. They’d been quietly walking, people nodding or calling a greeting, far nicer than he’d expected the pack to be after all his father had done. “What do you mean?”
Looking up at the sky, Keon seemed hesitant. “You asked me to step in when you were afraid to ask for help, but the bond is still new and I’m not always sure if I’m helping or being overbearing,” he admitted so sincerely Milo pressed his lips to hide a smile. It wouldn’t be fair to laugh when he was expressing a genuine concern.
“No, you’re not overbearing,” he promised, wondering what had made him doubt his actions. “I like the times you help, and how you do it. I never feel like you’re treating me like an invalid but genuinely want to help because you know something will hurt or make me tired.” Milo glanced up at Keon and confessed to something most people misunderstood. “People look at me and think the crutches and the wheelchair define my condition, and as long as I have them, I have no problems.
“What they don’t see are the things you’ve seen these last two weeks: the constant nerve pain, how everyday tasks exhaust me, that my fingers can twitch or lose their strength for no reason.” Milo sighed, a part of him grateful Keon was willing to discuss his disability on a deeper level. It showed how close they’d become, breaking down the barriers between them, and Keon was sincere about taking care of him, even if that meant backing off. “My father could never understand how reading and studying medicine would have me needing a nap. If I fumbled holding something, it wasn’t because I was distracted or careless, but because Icouldn’thold on to it properly.”
Keon hummed, adjusting his grip on Milo’s hand without letting go. “Sometimes you sleep like the dead, and I’m glad you’re getting rest,” he said, thoughtful and cautious. “Other nights, you’re restless and make noises like you’re in pain.” Looking up, he met Milo’s startled gaze with a sad smile. “On the nights you’re restless, I can see how heavy it weighs on you the next day: you stumble more, and your nerves are less reliable.”
“Reliable?” Milo smiled, loving the choice of word. “That’s the perfect word. I never knew how badly I relied on my body to do what I wanted until it stopped listening to me.” Though Keon smirked knowingly, Milo was grateful he didn’t claim to ‘know’ what Milo experienced or what he was feeling. People often did that?his father was the worst culprit?and got it wrong. They presumed the wrong things about him, about his condition, and never stopped to think about how that made him feel.
Keon had never done that. Sometimes he stepped in to help when Milo wouldn’t have asked for help, but he’d accepted that was his greatest fault. He’d been conditioned by Thatcher’s disinterest and sneers never to ask, and now it was second nature—often to his detriment.
“I’ve spent an eternity having no one to rely on, no one to share my condition with. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to ask for help, to trust someone will be there when I do ask,” Milo confessed, though the feeling of being deeply alone was starting to fade. Having Keon by his side offered more security and certainty to his life than he’d hoped to have from a chosen mate.
Thirteen days ago, Milo could never have guessed how drastically his life would change. In under two weeks, since Keon first found him in the bunker, everything was different in the best way.
He’d never imagined two people could go from strangers to feeling the way he felt about Keon in such a short time. It wasn’t quite love, he didn’t think, but since Vihaan didn’t use the word, he couldn’t be sure. It felt strong and deep, like he would spend the rest of his life grieving if Keon was ever taken from him. But was that love, dependence, or just being used to having someone in your life?
Holding Keon’s hand as they walked through the village, he felt proud to be by his side and know the whole pack seemed to have accepted him as the Alpha’s mate.
Stopping for a moment, Milo looked into Keon’s eyes and took the risk of pouring out his heart. “You’ve reminded me I’m not alone anymore. And maybe we haven’t found the right balance, yet, of when you instinctively help and my being confident enough to ask for help, but I trust that will come with time,” he said, relieved Keon smiled as if the compliment embarrassed him. “Right now, I like it when you help. It feels like you’re reading my mind, but I think you’re just aware of me and always thinking about me. You see when I need you, even whenIdon’t realise I need you, and that feels special to me.”
Keon was silent but still smiling, and Milo wasn’t sure what that meant. He’d rambled without thought or care of the words falling out his mouth. As hard as it was to adapt, Milo felt confident he would get there, because Keon was with him. Watching, attentive, and caring, he would always be there to catch Milo if he fell, to support him whether he faltered or not. Keon would never let him get hurt.
Having the secure belief and trust that he wasn’t in this struggle alone had given Milo more confidence than he’d ever had.
When Keon darted in to kiss him, Milo smiled in surprise. It was brief, light, and sweet, but Keon looked happier than when he’d started this conversation. “It feels special to me too.”
Milo felt the heat rising up his cheeks, embarrassed to realise what Keon was saying. He should never have let his mouth run off, but at least he understood what Milo had been trying to say. Growth came with time, and until they knew each other better, they were likely to make a lot of mistakes, misjudgements, and have miscommunications. So far, they’d been lucky, and he hoped that lasted.
If Weston was right, and the true mate bond had shifted, they were the luckiest people in Vihaan. Perhaps it was their mutual rejection of their true mates or the Fates had always intended them to find each other, but Milo prayed Weston was right. He hoped the Mother had led them to each other to share a bond as deep as a true mating. He’d never hoped to be this happy with a chosen mate, but he’d been right about Keon. He was a man Milo was proud to stand beside, and he hoped to be by his side for many years to come.
*
Keon
MILO WAS ADAMANT, as they walked the length of the village. He kept his right crutch under his arm for support, and Keon carried the other to let Milo hold his hand. As sentimental as it was, he loved knowing Milo felt comfortable enough towantto hold his hand. To walk the central road of the village and wave at people, say hello and be welcomed.
Milo had become an integral part of the pack within a short time. Faultlessly, seamlessly, without guile or force. He…fit. The way he did with Keon. Their time together had been a revelation. Lying beside him, occupying space he’d never realised was waiting, empty. Head tucked into the crook of his neck where he’d never thought to find someone. Hand held tight in his, where no one else had fit.
“How do you feel about kids?” he asked, tackling another topic he’d been putting off.
Milo stumbled, foot stepping on his crutch. Keon released his hand and wrapped an arm around his waist to prevent a fall. With Milo pressed to his chest, wide green eyes staring, he was more tempted than ever. Until Milo swallowed and uttered an uncertain “What?”
“Kids.” Keon smirked as he caught a glint of hope. “Taking in an orphan. Farley is constantly talking about the kids who are left alone, abandoned, or orphaned from war and pack disputes. With five packs left of the original twelve inE’Boolou, a lot of kids have no one,” he elaborated, explaining the how and why, holding Milo’s steady gaze. “In a few years, when we’re settled, and the pack is running smooth, we could consider it.”
“Keon,” Milo gasped, clutching at Keon’s arm.
