Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Ren woke up colder than he had in a long time.
For a moment, just before he forced his eyes open, he thought he was finally waking up from this dream and he would be surrounded by the cold, dark walls of his cell again and the bars separating himself from the outside.
But when he peeked out from beneath his eyelids, he sighed in relief at the sight of Falk’s room.
He shivered, pulling the blankets up to his chin as he looked around. The other side of the bed was empty, and when he reached out, it was already cold—like the body that had warmed it in the night had left long ago. Ren sat up abruptly, calling out, “Falk?”
His chest ached as his heartbeat raced from the calmness of sleep straight into panic when Falk didn’t reply.
Ren threw his blankets off and ran, feet instantly chilling from the frigid stone floors.
He burst into the bathroom, eyes widening when he realized Falk wasn’t there either.
He threw open the closet and even double checked the room in case he had somehow run past him. But no, the room was completely empty.
“Falk?” he whispered, voice small in a room far too large for just one person to fill.
Ren stood there, fiddling with the hem of his shirt, shivering as his toes turned white, unsure of what to do.
He turned over every possibility—maybe Falk had been called to an important duty and didn’t have time to get Ren ready for it; maybe Falk had stepped out for a moment and was standing right outside the door talking to someone; or maybe Falk had forgotten about Ren completely and hadn’t even noticed he left him behind.
Ren rubbed at his throat with his palm, pressing hard enough to feel his pulse fluttering and a pinch to his scent gland.
He swallowed around the lump forming in his throat as he walked slowly back over to the bed.
He crawled onto the mattress and folded his legs beneath him, sitting back down where the sheets were still warm from his slumber.
He didn’t know how long he sat there. The quiet, soft rays of pre-dawn he had awoken to slowly brightened into sunrise when the doorknob finally turned.
“Oh, Ren, you’re awake?” Falk asked, posture perking up when he saw Ren sitting in bed.
Ren lunged to his feet, racing over to Falk who laughed at the wide-eyed stare Ren was giving him. “Where were you? What happened?” Ren demanded.
“I didn’t expect you to wake up while I was gone,” Falk hummed. “I was getting us breakfast.” It was only then Ren noticed the two plates of food in Falk’s hands. “Go get comfortable again, I’ll bring it to you.”
Ren stared at Falk a moment before tucking himself back into bed.
He pulled the blankets around himself as he sat, cross legged, with his back against the wall.
He took the plate Falk handed him—piled high with soft bread, fruits, and cup of warm porridge—and tried to not think about how much it reminded him of when Falk would bring him his meals down in the prison.
“Thanks,” he mumbled, ducking his head and picking up a piece of bread. They ate quietly, a comfortable air between the two of them as Ren’s heartbeats steadied.
Ren had finished the last of his porridge when Falk held out a piece of bread balanced carefully between his fingertips. Ren blinked at him and Falk raised an eyebrow back. Ren was about to ask him what he wanted when Falk moved the piece of food closer to Ren’s mouth.
Ren wasn’t sure what awed him more—Falk trying to feed him or the way Falk’s ears got redder and redder the longer Ren gaped at him.
Slowly, Ren opened his mouth and let Falk set the bread in between his teeth. Ren chewed it, shocked at the sudden sweetness filling his mouth. He hummed excitedly, looking down at Falk’s plate with raised eyebrows. “What is that?”
“A new pastry the kitchen made,” Falk said, tearing off a bit more to hold up to Ren. It was a slightly toasted piece of fluffy bread covered in a fine dusting of sugar and cinnamon. Ren happily opened his mouth this time to take the offering. “Like it?”
“It’s delicious,” Ren hummed.
Falk smiled as he handed Ren the rest of the pastry as well as a second one he had hidden beneath the rest of his food.
Ren only realized after he had shoved the second little roll in his mouth that Falk hadn’t taken even a single bite for himself. He frowned when he remembered something Falk had said the other day. “Don’t you not like sweets?” Ren asked.
“I don’t, no,” Falk chuckled.
“Then why did you get these?” Ren asked, eyebrows furrowing as he chewed.
“For you,” Falk said. Ren blinked at him, but when he opened his mouth to respond, Falk laughed and reached over to close Ren’s jaw with a single finger on his chin. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, Ren.”
Ren scowled but did as he was told, chewing fully before swallowing.
“Oh, and this,” Falk said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a sad, wilting little white flower. “There aren’t many of them left,” he said sheepishly.
It was almost a tradition now, every day since his birthday, Falk brought a little flower to tuck into Ren’s curly, dark hair.
Ren let him do it, but this time, he scoffed and said, “Flory told me you don’t even like flowers.
” Falk’s hands froze where they were arranging the bud behind Ren’s ear.
“She told me you think they’re ugly and smell bad.
So why do you keep giving me them?” Ren frowned as Falk finally pulled away.
“Do you think I’m ugly and smell bad too? ”
“No,” Falk said slowly. “I… thought Omegas liked flowers.”
“Sure,” Ren said with a shrug, “I like them as well as the next Omega but you don’t.”
“I was also told… white flowers are special,” Falk said.
Ren squinted at him, “Special? Why?”
“Oren told me flowers have meanings,” Falk said, rubbing at his neck. “I don’t remember exactly—Oren is always telling me nonsense he finds out during his research. He’s far too obsessed with Faeries and all of their doings and told Mont and I all about flowers a while back.”
“What does white mean?” Ren asked.
“Innocence,” Falk said after a pause. “Purity and honesty?—”
“Why would you give me white flowers to wear? I’m none of those things,” Ren laughed.
“—and perfection,” Falk finished, the last word practically a whisper.
Ren tilted his head to one side, “I’m definitely not perfect.”
Falk just smiled helplessly and shrugged. He stood up and took Ren’s plate from where it was balanced in his lap. He tilted his head toward the door. “Good to go?”
“I still need to get dressed, give me a second!” Ren said and got to his feet, rushing past Falk.
Falk found him again later that day eating dinner with Chaya, Des, and Flory. He didn’t greet the other Omegas, his gaze only on Ren as he walked up to the table they were seated around in the dining area. “Ready to go?”
Ren peered up at him, frowning. “Sure, just a second.”
“Do we not even get a ‘hello’?” Flory asked, leaning her chin on her hand as she gazed up at Falk, eyebrows raised.
He ignored Flory entirely. “No,” Falk said, tone harsher than normal. It made Ren pause, a forkful of pork half raised to his lips. “We are going. Now.”
Ren blinked as Falk put out his hand. He didn’t know what Falk expected him to do with it, but he carefully put his food down and glared as he got up. He ignored Falk’s hand and walked past him, wondering what had happened between their soft, quiet morning and now.
He expected Falk to fall into step beside him as usual, but instead Falk took his elbow, tugging him backwards. Ren’s wide eyes flicked back and forth between Falk’s face and his grip on Ren’s arm. “What are you doing?” Ren asked, mouth hanging open.
“Stop running off without me,” Falk snapped at him.
Ren fell silent and let Falk walk them side by side, hand on Ren’s waist again. “What made you in such an awful mood?” he grumbled.
“Nothing.”
“Liar,” Ren muttered.
Although Falk touching him so freely wasn’t new, his touch was always comforting—warm wherever his palm rested. But with Falk’s icy exterior, Ren swore he could feel his anger through the touch. It made Ren tense all over, waiting for Falk to blow up like all Alphas did when they were angry.
“Oh, Falk!”
They both stopped, Falk looking back at where they had come to see who had called for him.
Ren glanced back as well, eyes narrowing at the sight of an Alpha he vaguely recognized from the times he had watched Falk sparring—all of the Warriors were far too much alike with their similar short haircuts and fighting leathers.
“I wanted to ask—oh, sorry,” the Alpha said, coming up short in front of the two of them. A little smile played on his lips as he glanced back and forth between Ren and Falk. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were with an Omega.”
Ren was so used to Alphas looking at him that he barely even registered the Wolf’s gaze dragging from his face down to his feet and then back up again.
It only made his skin crawl and his pulse rate jump a bit.
He was expecting Falk to ask the man what he wanted so they could carry on—he wasn’t expecting to hear the low, deep growl from beside him.
Ren startled when he glanced over at Falk; his expression mirroring the Alpha’s standing in front of them. The Warrior’s jaw dropped open as he stared at Falk who was fully tensed up, ready to lunge forward like a spring. Falk’s lips pulled back in a near snarl as he growled at the Alpha.
“Falk,” Ren hissed at him. “What are you?—”
“Do not. Look. At him,” Falk forced out through gritted teeth.
The Alpha spluttered, “What? I didn’t look at?—”
The Alpha yelped as Falk stepped forward, his hand shooting out far faster than Ren could keep up. His fist curled into the front of the man’s shirt, dragging him closer until their faces were barely a breath apart. “Do. Not. Look. At. Him,” Falk repeated.
“I’m sorry,” the man said immediately, putting up his hands in surrender. “I really didn’t mean to, I’m so sorry, Falk. I?—”