6
The low stone wall behind the training grounds held the last warmth of the afternoon sun, and Scott sat there with his legs dangling over the edge, tossing pebbles at the fence post the way he'd done when he was a boy.
The training yard was mostly empty now, just a few young wolves sparring in the distance, their practice blades catching the fading light.
Scott heard Fynn's footsteps before he saw him, the familiar rhythm of them making his chest tighten.
Fynn climbed onto the wall and sat close enough that their shoulders almost touched.
He held two cups of cider, and he handed one to Scott without speaking.
For a while they just drank and watched the dust settle over the yard.
Scott could feel the question building before Fynn even opened his mouth.
"I'm not afraid of ruining our friendship," Fynn said quietly, his gaze fixed on the cup in his hands. "I'm afraid you don't feel the same."
Scott's throat locked up. He stared at the fence post and tried to find words that wouldn't shatter everything further.
"I don't know what I feel anymore," he said, and his voice came out rough.
"I spent my whole life thinking I knew exactly who I was.
Now I wake up every morning and I don't recognize myself.
I smell like other men. I've done things I never thought I'd do.
I liked them, Fynn. That's the worst part.
" He forced himself to look at Fynn's face, and what he saw there made his eyes burn.
"I can't offer you this broken version of me and pretend it's enough. You deserve someone whole."
Fynn set his cup down on the wall and turned to face him fully.
"I don't want someone else. I want you. I've wanted you since we were kids stealing berry pies and swimming in the river.
That hasn't changed." His voice was steady, but his hands were shaking.
"I know you're confused. I know you're hurting.
I'm not asking you to have all the answers.
I'm asking you to stop pushing me away while you figure it out. "
Scott looked at his hands. The silence stretched between them, heavy and full of everything unsaid. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. "What if I never figure it out? What if I stay broken?"
"Then I'll stay anyway," Fynn said. "I've been waiting for years. I can wait longer."
Scott's chest ached. He wanted to reach out, to close the distance between them, to let himself have this one good thing.
But the shame was still there, thick and suffocating.
He thought about Rukheim's hands on him, about Norrix's mouth, about the way his body had betrayed everything he thought he knew about himself.
He couldn't hand that wreckage to Fynn. He couldn't.
"I need time," Scott said finally. "I need to figure out who I am before I can be anything to anyone else."
Fynn nodded slowly, his jaw tight. "Then take the time. I'll be here." He stood up, leaving his cider half-full on the wall. "But Scott, don't wait until you're perfect. Perfect doesn't exist. You just have to be brave enough to let someone in."
He walked away, and Scott stayed on the wall until the sky went dark and the first stars came out. The cup in his hands had gone cold.
The next morning, Scott reported to the war room for the patrol briefing.
Rukheim stood at the head of the table, a map spread before him, and Norrix stood across from him with his arms crossed.
The tension in the room was sharp, both alphas circling each other with careful words and clipped commands.
The northern borders had been restless, and the patrol schedules required them to work the same rotation.
"We'll take the eastern ridge together," Rukheim said, his finger tracing the route on the map. "The reports show increased activity near the old watchtower. Two alphas are better than one for that stretch."
Norrix nodded, his expression unreadable. "Agreed. We should also check the river crossing. If there's a breach, that's where it'll happen."
Rukheim studied him for a moment, then gave a short nod. "We leave at first light tomorrow. I'll brief the sentries on the adjusted rotation."
Scott watched them work, and something in his chest eased slightly. They weren't friends. They might never be friends. But they were learning to move in the same space without colliding, and that was something.
After the briefing ended, Rukheim caught Scott's arm before he could leave. "The healer wants to establish a heat safety plan. Mera will come by this afternoon to walk through the protocol. I want you there."
Scott nodded, and Rukheim let him go.
That afternoon, Scott sat in Rukheim's quarters with the healer, Mera, and both alphas.
The old woman's voice was steady and practical as she laid out the plan.
"The next heat could hit anywhere from days to weeks from now.
When it does, you need anchors close. Rukheim is your primary, and Norrix is your secondary.
If one is unavailable, the other must be called immediately.
You'll have a signal stone to alert them both at once.
" She pressed a small, smooth stone into Scott's palm.
"Carry this with you at all times. If the heat starts, squeeze it hard.
Both alphas will feel the pull through the pack bond. "
Scott turned the stone over in his fingers. "What if both of them are on patrol? What if something happens?"
Mera's expression softened. "Then I'll be there. I'm too old to anchor a prime heat, but I can keep you stable until one of them arrives. You won't be alone."
The words settled something in Scott's chest. He hadn't realized how much he'd been dreading the next wave, how much fear had been building under the surface. Knowing there was a plan made the fear smaller.
Troy found him that evening near the eastern practice fields, where Scott had gone to watch the sunset. The older man's face was tight with something that looked more like concern than judgment. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't use any of the words Scott had braced himself for.
"Is this what you want?" Troy asked quietly, stopping a few feet away. "The arrangement with Rukheim and Norrix. Is it what you want, or is it just what's happening to you?"
Scott looked at his brother for a long moment. The self-loathing was still there, the confusion, the exhaustion. But under it something steadier had started to form, a small, stubborn ember that refused to go out.
"I won't be shamed for surviving," Scott said. His voice didn't shake. "I don't have all the answers yet. It's messy and I hate parts of it. But I'm still here. That has to count for something."
Troy's shoulders dropped. He stepped forward and pulled Scott into a hard, brief hug, the kind that said more than words ever could. "I'll try to understand," he said against Scott's hair. "I don't get it yet. But I'll try."
Scott closed his eyes and let himself lean into it for the space of a few breaths. It wasn't resolution. But it was the first time someone from his old life had looked at the wreckage and chosen to stay anyway.
The heat hit two days later.
Scott was helping Mera sort herbs in the healer's cabin when the first wave crashed through him. The mortar in his hands clattered to the floor, and he doubled over with a broken sound. Slick gathered fast between his thighs, soaking through his trousers, and his cock thickened against the fabric.
Mera was at his side in an instant, her hands steady on his shoulders. "The stone, Scott. Use it now."
He fumbled for the signal stone in his pocket and squeezed it hard. The pull went out through the pack bond, sharp and urgent. Mera guided him to a cot in the corner of the cabin and helped him lie down, her voice calm and measured. "They're coming. Just breathe through it until they get here."
The door burst open moments later. Norrix was first, his chest heaving from the run, his eyes dark with want and worry. Rukheim was right behind him, his expression tight with control. They exchanged one look, and then Rukheim stepped back.
"Norrix first," Rukheim said, his voice rough. "He's closer to the edge. I'll take over after."
Norrix was already moving toward the cot, his hands stripping Scott's clothes away with desperate urgency. "I've got you," he said, his voice low and fierce. "I'm here."
Mera moved to the far side of the cabin to give them space, but she didn't leave.
Scott was dimly aware of her presence as Norrix pushed his thighs apart and sank into him with one hard, needy thrust. The stretch burned, but his body welcomed it, his hole clenching around the thick length.
Norrix didn't take his time. He fucked Scott with urgent, driving strokes, chasing the heat as much as easing it.
Scott came fast, hard, his body convulsing under the alpha's weight.
When Norrix's knot began to swell, Rukheim moved closer. "Finish the lock. I'll be ready when it releases."
Norrix pushed deep and locked them together, his release flooding Scott in hot pulses.
Scott lay trembling beneath him, his breath ragged, his body already wanting more even as the first lock held.
The minutes stretched, and Mera moved quietly around the cabin, checking his pulse and murmuring reassurances.
When the knot finally eased, Norrix withdrew carefully.
Rukheim was there before Scott could even feel the emptiness.
He rolled Scott onto his side and pushed inside with one smooth, claiming stroke, his hand settling on Scott's hip.
His thrusts were deeper, more controlled, and Scott cried out with each one.
Rukheim leaned down, his mouth close to Scott's ear. "You're doing well. Just hold on."
Scott came again, weaker but still overwhelming, and Rukheim followed with a low groan, his knot swelling and locking them together.
Scott floated in the aftermath, his body wrung out and hollow, but the heat had receded.
The plan had worked. He wasn't dying. He was just exhausted and overstimulated and held.
When the second lock released, Mera helped clean him up and wrapped him in a soft blanket.
Norrix sat on the floor beside the cot, his hand resting on Scott's ankle.
Rukheim stood near the door, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
Neither alpha spoke, but the tension in the room was different now, less sharp, more settled.
Scott closed his eyes and let himself drift. The heat was over for now, and he was still breathing. That had to be enough.