So sorry that this chapter is late in coming. Illness is my excuse. The length of the chapter is my penance. I'm still working out the plot. Right now, I have only a rough idea of the next few chapters and very little beyond that. While I make absolutely no promises to take any suggestions, I would be very interested to learn what you see or would like to see coming. It may help with my inspiration. I hope that you enjoy, and please let me know what you think!
*The Alpha and Omega series and the universe in which it is based belongs to Patricia Briggs. Sadly, I am not Patricia Briggs. While I receive no monetary gain from this story, I do hope to do justice to this amazing universe and the characters I have borrowed.
-:- Nathan -:-
Nathan couldn't help but notice that Miles' eyes flashed to pale blue as she hesitated at the top of the steps before actually entering the small jet.
She took a slow breath and stepped through the threshold, but her eyes didn't darken again.
"Everything all right?" he asked warily.
"Some bad memories involving small airplanes," she said softly without looking at him. "I'll be fine."
"We might need to get you some sunglasses if we're going to keep a low profile," he reasoned.
She nodded, producing a pair from a pocket. "Bran thought of that too."
And that was the extent of the conversation for the short flight to Billings. She claimed a front-facing seat at the rear of the cabin. Considering that her eyes were still shining wolf blue, he opted to sit as far away from her as the small plane allowed while still keeping her within visual range. Which amounted to a rear-facing window seat across the aisle. It wasn't much, but she seemed okay with the arrangement.
Nathan really hoped that her issue with small planes didn't extend to large ones.
As soon as the plane was in the air, Miles closed her silvery-blue eyes and didn't open them again until the pilot announced that they were making their approach into Billings.
Miles slid the sunglasses onto her face as they exited the plane, and she left them there despite the fact that her eyes had returned to dark blue. He suspected that in the busy airport, they would not stay that way long.
Despite his concerns for her reaction to the crowd, Miles accompanied him through the busy airport with no apparent opinion of the crowds. He couldn't smell any fear from her, but then he couldn't smell any emotion at all. She was doing that thing that she did sometimes where she either managed to block her emotions from affecting her body and sending out the telltale scent, or she managed to simply block her emotions completely. The Marrok was a master at that, and Charles seemed to have it down as well – either that or he really was emotionless… For Miles to be able to do it considering her age and little training, Nathan could only imagine that it was instinctive for her.
Despite her talent in that arena, Nathan knew her well enough to know what it meant. She wasn't comfortable. Her scent was always perfectly ordinary when she was at ease.
They both drew a lot of looks from those they passed, which was common for dominant wolves in general. It seemed like she was drawing more than him, though that probably had something to do with her "I-will-drop-kick-you" posture and stony expression.
She remained silent and outwardly impassive all the way to the gate, and kind of surprised him by taking the seat directly at his side without hesitation. He hoped that that meant he was forgiven for his stupid, embarrassing reaction in her house that morning. She'd been colder toward him ever since.
His thoughts were shaken when Miles' hand suddenly gripped his painfully hard and he smelled fury rolling off her in one tremendous wave.
"What's wrong?" he asked softly but urgently, having a little difficulty keeping the pain of her viselike grip out of his voice.
She sat absolutely motionless for about five very long seconds, then turned her face into his arm. He wasn't sure if she was hiding her face or preventing herself from seeing something. He would have enjoyed her rare touch a lot more if he wasn't so worried – and in pain. Werewolves weren't a secret anymore, but if she lost control in the middle of the airport, people could die. And if they did, the Marrok would have to kill her. Nathan wouldn't be able to accept that, so he'd have to defend her, and they'd both end up dead.
He wasn't strong enough to control her, but she was good at controlling herself. Bran wouldn't have sent her if she wasn't. He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down, hoping that his calm would help her. "Shh," he whispered. "You're okay now. You need to calm down…" She was so close to the change that he could feel the tingles of magic beginning to fill the air.
After a long and unsettling moment, she took a slow, deep breath and spoke softly, "The man in the green jacket and black pants… Is he still here?"
It only took Nathan a moment to locate the man she was talking about. He was standing near the window, holding a black briefcase. He was probably about sixty or sixty-five with thick white hair and a small potbelly. He looked like he was waiting for the flight too. That wasn't good. If that man bothered her this much, would she be able to handle the whole flight to Maine?
"Yes," he replied softly. "Who is he?" Then because he didn't want her to think that he was pressuring her for a specific answer, he added, "Should I be concerned?"
She took a deep breath and slowly peeked around his arm, her eyes falling on the man immediately. So close, Nathan could see the glow of her eyes through the sunglasses. Her fury had abated a little, but he could still smell it. "He…" She swallowed hard, then shook her head slightly. "I won't be able to control myself if I talk about it now. I don't think that we need to be concerned. I haven't see him in… Years," she finished.
Her eyes strayed toward a strong, dangerous-looking man standing a few feet to the older man's left side. There was another on his right. They both wore black suits, but they looked more like mercenaries or bodyguards than businessmen. "He didn't used to travel commercially," she whispered so softly that if he'd been human he wouldn't have heard even though her lips were just inches from his ear. "His name is Alfonso Castinello," she continued, despite what she'd just said about not wanting to talk about him.
"Okay," Nathan said softly. "Will be you okay to be on this flight with him, or should we find another?"
She shook her head slowly. "No more flights until tomorrow, and that one will leave us two hundred miles from the right town."
Nathan hadn't noticed that detail. "Well, that's unfortunate," he agreed, "but I'm sure Bran would prefer us to take a little longer in getting there rather than have an incident on this flight."
She looked into his eyes – which is something that she almost never did when she was human, "No, I'll be okay. No incidents. I'm sure he'll be in first class anyway-"
"We're in first class," Nathan informed her.
She frowned slightly.
"Dominants like us," he explained, "don't tend to do real well squished into coach."
She nodded as though that made sense, "Well, I'll be okay. As long as you stay calm, I won't have a problem."
Nathan tried not to enjoy it too much to know that she needed him.
When they boarded the plane, Nathan managed to arrange it with the flight attendant so they would be at the very back of the first class section, as far away from Alfonso as they could get. Miles was maintaining her outward calm rather well, and her anger had dissipated, but it hadn't gone away.
Miles did fine for the first hour of the flight, but then someone must have turned up the ventilation system, because Alfonso's scent was suddenly blowing right on them. Nathan felt her stiffen before he'd even noticed the increase in the man's scent. She took his hand again – not quite painfully this time – and turned her face into his shoulder. He thought that this time it was to cover up the scent with his.
His instinct was to reach over and rub her shoulder to try to help calm her – werewolves responded strongly to touch – but Miles wasn't just any wolf. She didn't like touch when she was in her human form. He felt her rage increase tenfold and he could feel magic and power so thick in the air it was almost hard to breathe.
Nathan very much wanted to know who in the hell that man was, but judging by her reaction, he was pretty sure that he wouldn't be able to maintain his own calm if he knew what that man had done to her. He'd ask her about it after the flight when neither of them were in too great a danger of killing him. He wasn't sure if she'd be in the sharing mood then, since she never really seemed to be in that kind of mood, but he thought that he deserved an explanation.
Her free hand wrapped around his bicep and she nuzzled her nose into his arm in a way that was more wolf than woman. She took slow, deep breaths, and he gradually felt her calming down again.
"I thought my control was better than this," she just barely whispered a few minutes later. "If you weren't here-" It sounded like she forcibly stopped herself from continuing that line of thought. He figured that was probably a good thing, because he could imagine what she was going to say and it would hardly help her calm to voice violent thoughts.
"Shh. It's okay," he murmured, running his fingers lightly through her hair before he could stop himself. She didn't seem averse to the touch though, as he'd thought she'd be. She just nuzzled into him a little more and he felt her relax further.
It took all of his willpower to prevent himself from swelling with pride and satisfaction at his touch having such an effect on her. Smelling those emotions from him might just have the effect on her that he'd feared his touch would.
"Don't get any ideas. You're not likely to find me this vulnerable very often," she said in an almost silent whisper, proving that he hadn't hidden his emotions as well as he'd have liked.
"Then I'd better enjoy it while I can," he responded, though his tone wasn't as gloating or self-assured as his words. He was worried about her and sick about some of the horrible things he imagined she might have endured to leave her as she was. Still, the only thing he could really feel at the moment was the violent, demanding need to hold her and keep her safe every moment of every day from then on so that no one could ever hurt her again… Wolves are possessive like that.
He continued to caress her hair, very slowly and softly, and she relaxed to the point that he was pretty sure the sunglasses were unnecessary. A short time after that, he felt her relax fully into sleep. He sighed softly, his wolf more content with the way she slept on him than he'd ever felt the wolf before. He settled back gently and Miles stirred a little, nuzzled her nose against him right where shoulder meets neck and the scent is strongest, as she wrapped both her arms around his one and settled into a peaceful sleep again.
Nathan kissed her forehead very lightly – just a bare brush of his lips – then rested his head against hers and let himself bask in her scent and her bare arms against his and her face on his neck. He knew that her jest about him not getting used to this was more fact than anything. He knew with certainty that this closeness between them would end as soon as she didn't have Alfonso's scent filling her head, but he could work with that. He was a patient hunter, and this hunt was well worth the dedication.
He was careful to make sure that he didn't doze himself despite his uncommon contentedness. He had no idea what Miles might do when she woke up and smelled Alfonso again and he fully intended to be completely alert to deal with whatever came.
It turned out that his concern was greater than it need have been. They were just west of Maine when she stirred to the sound of Alfonso's voice carrying through the cabin when he hailed a flight attendant – rather rudely – with a "Hey girl".
Miles' first reaction was to tense. Nathan could feel her entire body go rigid for about three heartbeats and she reeked of fear, then she softened a little as she slowly pulled away from him and the fear faded. Her nose wrinkled slightly as she took a breath of cabin air not filtered through his scent, but she looked calm enough. He couldn't smell her emotions at all now. She looked into Nathan's eyes for one long moment, her face unreadable, then pulled away further and settled back in her own seat.
She could have been as indifferent now as she'd been on the flight to Billings except for the fact that she did not release his hand. Their arms laid entwined on the armrest between their seats and her fingers were laced through his. She ignored that fact entirely with her body language, but her grip was firm so he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that it was neither an unconscious, nor a casual gesture. She was still using his calm to aid her own, and physical contact – especially skin to skin – helped.
When they finally landed and taxied to the gate, Miles was the first person off the plane, towing Nathan along with the hand she still held. Since they'd both brought no luggage more than carry-on, Miles had them out of the airport so quickly that they'd have had to run to go any faster.
She hopped into the first taxi, cutting off someone already headed for it. She released his hand once the door closed behind them, sealing them in with the pungent smells of old cigarette smoke, cheap vanilla air freshener, sun-bleached vinyl, body odor, and a plethora of other scents that no human would discern – including the scent of the driver and at least a dozen other people that had been in the cab recently.
"Where to?" the driver asked, sounding bored.
Nathan quickly gave the name of a hotel he'd glimpsed on an advertisement during their mad dash out of the airport.
Miles lounged casually on her side of the backseat, for all the world as though she hadn't just spent half a day on a plane with a man that put her into a killing rage she'd barely been able to control – as though she hadn't gone all soft and mushy while she was using Nathan like a living tranquilizer.
For Nathan's part, he was trying to avoid even thinking about how much he'd enjoyed having her lean on him, however briefly, so that she wouldn't have any chance to read his satisfaction. He knew that she had on the plane, but he was pretty sure that she intended to leave what had happened on the plane, on the plane.
It was already getting late in the day. Nathan had originally planned to rent a car and head straight to Veazie, the town nearest the pack's residence, but the episode on the plane had changed those plans. They both needed some time to cool down and get a good night's rest before they did anything that had any potential to challenge their self-control.
-:- Miles -:-
Miles took a deep, silent breath of taxicab air and tried to calm herself. She'd known long before the plane landed that she needed to get as far from her old master as she could as fast as she could. The only thing that had kept her from tearing him to pieces in the airport or the plane were the witnesses. She didn't want to tempt herself to pursue him and wait until he was alone.
She hadn't felt so on the verge of losing control in a long time, but that was only part of what scared her about the day's events. Lupa had chosen Nathan as a mate, she'd known that, and Nathan seemed amenable to that idea for the most part, but Miles had never been able to even consider allowing that to happen. Many times she'd come close to simply telling Nathan that it was never going to happen and he would be much better off to set his sights elsewhere, but Lupa had always stilled her tongue before she could get the words out. Lupa was still determined to have him as her mate.
Today had changed things for all of them. She'd been forced to lean on Nathan today and it had had unexpected consequences for her. She never would have thought that the feel of a man's fingers in her hair could have such an effect on her but it had. Oh, how it had. As much as the physical contact, she'd found herself responding to his scent, which smelled like mate no matter how much she'd tried to convince herself that Lupa was alone in her feelings for him. It was very difficult not to respond to that smell on several different levels.
Worst though, had been the emotion she'd smelled from him while he'd comforted her. In her violent need at the time, it had been only comforting. Now, it was almost painful to think about. It was more than just their wolves now. So much more to him.
Miles read a lot of romance novels among other things in an attempt to understand how normal humans acted and interacted since she'd become a part of the Marrok's pack and learned how abnormal her youth had been. As far as she could tell – factoring in what Bran had told her that morning – Nathan was in love with her… And she was beginning to realize that she enjoyed his presence more than she wanted to admit.
She was too afraid to let any of her thoughts to the surface where Nathan could read them, but she was worried that she wasn't doing as well with her emotions, since about halfway through the cab ride, he started watching her surreptitiously and she smelled something from him that might have been hope, but he was trying to conceal it.
By the time they got to the hotel, she felt frazzled. Control wasn't her problem now. Her discomfort was firmly rooted in her human side. Lupa had settled down comfortably during the drive and was now as relaxed as Miles had ever felt her. As always, her wolf knew what she wanted and she was intent on getting it regardless of how uncertain Miles was about it.
Miles leaned against the reception desk in the lobby of the hotel while Nathan booked their rooms. She carefully projected calm indifference, but her mind was still racing a mile a minute. She comforted herself with the knowledge that she would soon be able to close herself in her private room where she might be able to think clearly away from Nathan's maddening scent.
She was so distracted trying not to look distracted that when she heard Nathan say her name, she gathered from his tone and expression that it was not the first time he'd said it.
He stared at her with concern for a moment, then handed her one of those plastic card keys. "We're on the fifth floor," he informed her.
She nodded without expression and led the way to the elevator. Shaken as she was by the unexpected turn of the day's events, Miles found that it was all she could do to keep her expression impassive and her posture casually neutral while ensconced in the little elevator with Nathan.
Aware that it spoiled her overt nonchalance, she practically threw herself out of the elevator the very moment that the doors had opened wide enough to admit her slight body. After months of working with Charles to learn careful control, she had thought herself beyond such difficulty. Charles was not cruel, but neither was he a gentle teacher. In order to test her control, he had pushed every single button that he could find. He had quite harshly forced her to discuss some of the most traumatic moments of her life, and if she'd shown the slightest distress, they'd had to start all over.
Perhaps she was simply extremely drained after the emotionally tumultuous plane ride coupled with the issues with Nathan that she didn't even know how to begin to address. Or perhaps the fault lay in her teacher. While Charles was not gentle and extremely efficient, she had always been able to see brief flashes of pain in his eyes when he delved into a particularly deep wound. Deep down, she knew that Charles took no pleasure in causing her pain. That had been a comfort. A comfort that had likely sabotaged her training. Then again, had she not seen that, she would most likely hate him.
Nathan followed her warily halfway down the hall before pausing to nod at a door labeled 532. "That's you," he offered. "I'm in 534," he added with a glance toward the adjacent door.
She nodded curtly and hastily stabbed her key into the lock. She was unfamiliar with such a key and it took her three tries to align it properly. The instant that the light flashed green, she wrenched open the door with force just shy of damaging the handle and all but slammed the door behind her.
She heaved a sigh of relief and leaned against the door as her heart began to slow. She heard the door to the next room open and close and allowed herself to relax further. "What's wrong with me?" she breathed finally.
The deep breath reminded her that she reeked of Nathan after sleeping on him for most of the flight. She stripped off her clothes before she allowed herself to consider enjoying the scent and stuffed them into the plastic laundry bag that hung in the little closet alcove, tying it securely. She then went into the bathroom and climbed into the shower, cranking the temperature up until it nearly burned her skin and scrubbing with the complementary soaps until she could no longer detect any hint of Nathan on her skin or in her hair.
She toweled off briskly and returned to the main room. The subtle sounds of movement from the next room had her mentally following Nathan through his room, so she turned on the little radio clock to the first station that would come in and turned up the volume until she could no longer hear Nathan through the wall.
Finally, she lay back on the bed and stared blankly up at the plain white ceiling, letting the twangy music wash over her without really hearing the words. She didn't much care for music, but she'd discovered that it had its uses.
"What's happening to me?" Miles whispered to the empty room, confident that the music was loud enough to eliminate any chance of Nathan overhearing.
You deny our mate. Lupa replied in an annoyed tone, though Miles knew that her wolf was still feeling quite content with the events of the day.
"I can't," Miles replied, her eyes stinging with the threat of tears that she knew she would not allow to fall. "Damn it, Lupa, you have to stop this. He is not our mate. He can never be. We can't… I can't ever be mated."
Lupa didn't respond in words, but Miles could feel the smug disbelief in her wolf. Lupa still believed that she would get her way.
As Lupa wordlessly drew Miles' attention to it, Miles recalled the way that she had taken refuge in Nathan today, purposely immersing herself in his scent and clinging to the warmth of his skin. She did not enjoy touching anyone. Ever. Under any circumstances. With this one glaring exception, it seemed. Granted, exceedingly high levels of stress had contributed to her uncharacteristic action and the pleasure that she had taken from it, but she had to admit that it supported Lupa's assertion.
And it absolutely terrified her. What if leaning on Nathan became a habit? What if she continued to enjoy it so much? She knew without a doubt that any definition of the word "mate" was beyond her ability to endure. Even if it was possible for her to learn to enjoy his companionship on a frequent basis, and his gentle touch… She knew with absolute certainty that she could never enjoy sex with him or anyone else, and sex was a prerequisite in "mating".
Bran had described "making love" as something that existed in the heart and mind as much as the body. He'd explained that it was about affection and companionship just as much as physical pleasure, if not more. Though she believed it may have been physically possible for him, she did not believe that Bran had lied to her, and his experience suggested that he wasn't likely mistaken. Still, she just couldn't reconcile his description in her head.
To her, sex was synonymous with pain. It was a thing done for the selfish pleasure of a man. There was no emotion involved. Knowing what she knew now, she could fathom in a distant sort of way that some men may not intentionally hurt a woman during the act, but it wasn't something that she could picture in any real way. She also could not imagine how it was possible for a woman to derive pleasure from the experience.
Anna had talked to her about it once, but Miles had a very difficult time trusting Charles' mate. Anna carried with her a false sense of peace, which always had mixed results for Miles. As soon as she felt herself beginning to relax in the presence of the Omega, her instincts screamed at her that she was being lulled into a vulnerable state. Most of the men that had raped Miles over the years had done so without the slightest evidence that they realized she was actually a person inside, but there had been some, such as her first master, who had convinced her to relax and trust them to some extent. She'd eventually understood that they took pleasure in betraying that trust. Alfonso had repeatedly convinced her that he never meant to hurt her.
He had lied.
Miles' chest tightened and she rolled onto her side, curling into a ball as she fought the panicky feeling inspired by allowing those memories to reach the surface. It took her some time to gain control of herself. When she had, she felt terribly bitter. "Would you honestly wish me on a wolf you care for?" she sneered.
He is our choice. Lupa replied. We are his.
It was painfully evident that Lupa did not think like a human. As long as Nathan wanted them, it didn't matter if they actually deserved him. In that moment, Miles found herself hating her wolf for being able to see the world in such a simple way.
She lost spirit for arguing with the frustrating wolf and gave in to her exhaustion.
Please review! Let me know if you like it. If you don't, let me know that too! I can't fix problems that I don't know about.