Chapter 12 – Zale
Chapter Twelve
Zale
I can’t believe I slept through most of the drive, for me the five hours passed in the blink of an eye. It was strange. I never slept in the car. Usually, it was a lot harder for me to relax in new places or around people I wasn’t comfortable with—it was one of the reasons I never stayed at Millie‘s place. Plus, I didn’t exactly want Sadie listening outside with her ear pressed against the door.
Even though I expected it, there was still this awkwardness between us when I turned up at Shiloh’s apartment earlier. I don’t know why I was so abrupt when knocking on his door but it seemed like the best option was to just keep things simple until this week was over with. I was stuck in this strange headspace where I hated the stiltedness between us but I also couldn’t talk about it. I wasn’t ready to open that can of worms.
Being with Millie had felt like an easy, nice option at first. It was like hanging out with my best friend some days but then on other days it started to feel like wearing a pair of shoes two sizes too small. It wasn’t quite right. As time went on it was getting harder and harder to squeeze myself into the boxes I was supposed to be checking. The ones where I was the perfect son and the perfect boyfriend. The cracks had been appearing for weeks and I could feel my fingertips bleeding as I struggled to hold it all together. Something hard to give, something had to change.
It was tearing me apart trying to be everything to everyone and I didn’t know how much longer I could keep investing into a relationship that didn’t feel right. My relationship with Millie was like an hourglass, and I was watching the grains of sand fall. What I was doing to the two of us wasn’t fair.
I needed to be honest with her, talk to her about where she felt our relationship was going, even though I already knew the answer. She wanted marriage and babies. She wanted the Blackwood name. I was a trophy to her, and I’d turned a blind eye to that for a simpler life.
It wasn’t exactly a conversation we could have over her birthday. I wasn’t a complete monster. She deserved to enjoy her celebrations. Or maybe I was just being a coward by putting off the inevitable?
Actually, I was 99% sure I was just being a coward. This thing with Shiloh realistically wasn’t even a part of this dilemma, because I couldn’t have him. If my parents weren’t impressed with Millie, daughter of property tycoons and beautiful, accomplished omega then they weren’t going to settle for a beta with bite, determined to do everything his way. I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to explore whatever this crazy connection between us was, but even if I did, everything came back to needing to talk to Millie first. Bitterly, I wonder if I will end up married to Clarice anyway. That seemed like the only outcome that would make my papa happy.
When we entered into the Vos family cabin, there’s this odd sense of coming home. It’s not even my home, but the family photos on the wall and faded lingering scents seem to soothe my anxiety. It’s pleasing to my alpha senses, and I take a few moments to explore the open plan house.
It’s clear to see that this isn’t just a show home. It’s a well-loved space with personal touches everywhere and in my chest, I get a strange sense of longing, as if I want to stay here for a while. Hideout someplace safe and welcoming.
When I catch a glimpse of Shiloh out of the corner of my eye, putting away the snacks that we picked up, it feels weirdly right. My inner beast, that base alpha part of me, is strangely satisfied watching him go about a mundane domestic task when there’s only the two of us in this house so clearly filled with love.
I regret trying to put those barriers up between us earlier because now when I try to talk to him, it’s clear he’s drawing his own lines in the sand and warning me not to overstep.
He eventually starts relaxing, telling me about their property in Crete. The way he smiles when he talks makes me want to try and push to learn more about him.
Just as I’m about to suggest that we have a late dinner together and watch a show or maybe even play cards or a video game in the living room, my phone rings. The name that flashes up gives me that same sensation that my parents do. My chest tightens, and my palms feel sweaty and slick. I try to swallow, but my throat is dry and it’s like my tongue is too big for my mouth.
It’s Millie.
Because of course it’s Millie.
It’s a sign from the universe reminding me that just because I’ve decided that this relationship isn’t right for me, doesn’t mean I can have him.
When I’d been trying to untangle the knots of my feelings, I’d thought about trying to be a better boyfriend. In fact, I’d thought about nothing else over the last three weeks. It was draining. I tried. I worked hard to ignore Shiloh, to package away all the traitorous thoughts of him, but they just kept spilling free, leaking out along the seams of my sanity. When I lay in bed at night and let my mind wander and I knew it wasn’t her face I saw, despite the similarities. The grains of sand in our relationship were almost at an end.
The vibrations from my phone remind me that Millie is waiting for me to pick up.
“Hey Mills. Are you having a good night?” I say, watching Shiloh make a hasty exit, ruining the little progress I’d made.
“Zale! Baby, I miss you. Did you get there safe?” She sounds a little drunk as she screeches my name on the phone. “How’s Lo-Lo? Is he being weird?”
“Yeah. I’m here. No, he’s not being weird. It’s fine.” I chuckle at the cute nickname. It kind of suits him, something short and snappy. The thought is followed by another wave of guilt. At this point I’m not really sure I feel much besides guilt, longing (for the wrong person) and exhaustion. Of course she has a nickname for him, she’s his sister.
“You should be here!” she slurs. “Everyone is here.”
I can hear loud music in the background, and voices laughing and cheering. She must be outside a club, I think as I glance down at the bottle of water in my hand, rubbing the label while silently begging the conversation to finish quickly.
“Who is everyone?” I ask even though I don’t actually care as she rattles off a list of names.
I wasn’t like Millie, Evans or Sadie, I had no interest in networking and schmoozing with people who had more money than human compassion or common sense. Again, it was always another part I had to play. Another box to check off. I was expected to go out and show my face, representing Blackwood Tech at all times but there were restrictions. It meant I had to be on my best behavior—I couldn’t drink too much (something I’d been more reckless with lately), I couldn’t do drugs (not that I would because of the football) or make a scene just in case I ended up in the media. Ignoring my recent exceptions, I usually stuck to those rules…The last time I’d been blackout drunk, that had been the night that brought Millie into my life. We’d been part of the same friendship group, thanks to Evans’ relationship/not a relationship with Sadie but we’d always been circling one another rather than interacting directly. That night changed everything.
“Ooooh! I LOVE this song!” Millie screams in my ear, and I hear Sadie yelling her name in the background. At least it sounds like she’s having a good time.
“You should be here,” she whines, and I bet if I video called her, she’d be doing her best pout. The one where she sticks out her bottom lip and flutters her long dark lashes. Sometimes, she even releases some of her pheromones, trying to influence me when she thinks she's being discreet.
“Go dance,” I tell her, wanting her to enjoy her birthday celebrations and not spend the night on the phone with me.
Her voice drops, her words sultry but still slurred as she teases, “I’m gonna dance for you at the cabin.”
I laugh awkwardly, not really sure how to respond to her drunken promise, especially given some of the decisions I’d made today. Goddess, I was a dick.
“Here. Tell him he should be here.” I hear her say before there’s rustling, more cheering and the music gets a little louder.
“Yo, you should be here!” Blake's voice comes down the line, sounding more sober than Millie but still tipsy. He gets quieter, “How was the district event?”
The tension in my chest eases. “It was great! Some real talent coming up.”
“Good to know, I’ll have to watch my back,” he jokes, and for a moment everything feels normal again. Blake had already been scouted to play ball after college, and signed with a team out in the Midwest. He knew what he wanted, and nothing was stopping him from chasing after it.
I hear Millie holler something, but I can't make it out over all the other noises. “Keep an eye on Mills, she seems pretty out of it.”
“It’s okay, Sadie, Ivy and Kaia are keeping her entertained.” Blake lowers his voice a little, “Evans is the one I’m worried about.”
“Why?”
There’s a pause, and I’m willing to bet my last dollar that he’s glancing around to see if Sadie is in hearing distance. “He vanished with Hunter about an hour ago, somewhere between the cocktail bar with the rodeo bull and foam party.”
It wasn’t unusual for Evans to go astray on nights like these, but usually Blake or I were there to help keep him in line. Tonight, he was out there somewhere with only Hunter. Hunter who often caused just as much, if not more, trouble.
“He’ll turn up, he always does.” I try to be supportive, but secretly I’m glad I’m not with them. I likely would have spent half my night trying to be the responsible one, and looking all over the city for Evans. “Just make sure he doesn’t marry a stranger!”
“Yeah, I guess. I gotta go, man. Caz has bought a tray of shots.”
Caz was another one of Sadie’s omega friends. I could barely keep track of them all to be honest, but then again, when you were flying people out on a private plane to party in one of the wealthiest cities in the country, all sorts of ‘friends’ were going to crawl out of the woodwork.
“Go. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
After ending the call, I wasn’t ready to call it a night and for a while I wandered around the house, restless. I probably slept too much and now it’s like my brain is wired. There’s a part of me that also hopes Shiloh might come downstairs again.
Dropping off my bag in one of the guest rooms, I grab my new zombie book and head back downstairs into the living room. The house has a huge stone fireplace, the kind you only really see in home magazines. I mean, my parents were rich, but most of the rooms in our home were sleek, modern and minimalist, with the exception of the home library and my bedroom and that wasn’t from lack of trying on papa’s part.
Along the mantle, there are photos of the twins through various stages of their life – the one with them grinning with gappy teeth makes me smile. They looked almost identical, right up until their teens, that’s where the differences become clearer.
Using the firelighters and logs from a nearby basket, I get a small fire going. There’s still no sign of Shiloh, but I know he must be able to hear me moving around down here. There’s only two of us in the entire cabin, was he going to avoid me all weekend?
Settling on the L shaped sofa, with a bag of chips, a fresh bottle of water and my book I get cozy for a few hours. Not many people knew this about me, but reading was one of my hobbies. For a couple of hours it took me out of my own head, I could be someone else, be somewhere else. I didn’t have as much time for it as I would’ve liked between everything else going on but it was my escape.
It was also a hobby that my parents had always supported and nurtured, their house back in Hartshaw was filled with books—it was the only ‘clutter’ they allowed. Throwing my head back, I stare at the ceiling for a few minutes as I think about my papa and my father. They weren’t horrible people, and they wanted the best for me, they just weren’t very good parents. Talking to Millie wasn’t going to be the only uncomfortable conversation in my future.
Eventually, I admit defeat, and as the last embers in the hearth die out, I creep quietly back upstairs to my room. Climbing between my sheets, my thoughts drift to the Vos sibling at the other end of the corridor. Was he already asleep? I resolve to try harder tomorrow not to be a jackass to him.
Tossing and turning, I keep waking occasionally throughout the night, finally falling into a deep sleep around three am. It feels like I've barely slipped into that warm, cozy dream space when something wakes me. Scrubbing my face with a groan, I check my phone and I realize it’s only just past six.
A shaft of light beams into the room between the curtains and that’s when I start registering my body. My skin feels tight and uncomfortable, while everything aches. Was I coming down with something? Was that why I was awake so early? No. My morning wood is hard and throbbing, leaking pre-cum in my boxers. I was horny. Beyond horny. I was on the verge of busting a nut with just the friction of the bedsheets over my underwear.
Fisting the sheets and laying back frustrated, my nostrils flare. There’s a spike of buttery sweetness lingering in the air, it smells like warm, gooey caramel or toffee syrup.
Inhaling, my cock twitches, there’s something sharp there too under the honeyed notes. It reminds me of autumn as it wraps around me, making my cock beg for relief. Was I due to go into Rut?
No, it was too soon.
Why was I acting like this?
A whimpering noise makes me sit upright.
Another whine, sounding like Shiloh is in pain, reaches me. Aching cock ignored, I pull on my clothes quickly.