Marine Mate

Something In the Making

I stand silently with my friends and packmates in all black. The scent of salt stains the air, the air so thick with grief you could cut it with a butter knife. Sniffles, sobs, and the whining of the military band causes me sensitive ears to twitch from all the noise. Especially from the boy sobbing into William, my beta's chest. My heart breaks for the poor boy, the boy who hasn't calmed down since the day the Marines dressed in uniforms knocked on his door and gave the dreaded news.

A gust of wind cuts through the grief, sending me a scent of mostly medicine, but my sensitive nose picks up the underlining scent of mint and rosemary. A scent that sends my wolf into a frenzy, a frenzy that only his mate could bring out. Keeping a tight leash on my wolf takes every bit of strength I can muster. This is not the time nor place for such behavior for him to go on a hunt for our mate.

Instead, I let him scan the crowd, giving him control over my eyes. And like he knew exactly where to look, our eyes find him in the sea of Marines, snaring my complete attention.

He is dressed to impress in his slick uniform, from my vantage point, I can see that his uniform is sharp and neat. His dark reddish brown hair compliments his emerald eyes. Though, his expression is of stone halfway hidden behind a gauze bandage. But you can see the deep sorrow he feels in his eyes.

Seeing his pain, I have to fight every instinct in every cell of my body to keep me from going over there and comforting my mate. My mate that I know is human, my mate that wouldn't understand why a complete stranger would comfort him. He wouldn't understand the very base need of my person, of my species, to comfort him in his time of need, even if we haven't spoken not one word to each other.

Needing another distraction or my instincts will win this fight, I turn my gaze over to the casket as it is lowered into the ground. Ceremonial gunfire and the song every fallen military man is honored with, despite that, Brandon's sobbing is the only audio my ears focus on. From the corner of my eye, I see William trying to comfort his mate to no avail.

Poor guy, Michael and Brandon were close. From my understanding, they have always been close. Most siblings fought, but from the stories they told and from their parents, they never did. From the moment Brandon was born, They were joined at the hip. With a bond like that, I don't think Brandon will be the same for a while.

As the casket reaches its final resting place, I wat as my walk walks over in my direction with his team following behind him, their sole focus on Brandon. In just the walk he walks and carries himself, he commands strength and obedience, like an Alpha.

"Mr. Kels." His voice is deep and smooth, his voice alone like velvet. "I'm Lt. Johnson."

I hang onto every word that pours from that heavenly mouth, taking in every little detail that is my mate. He tries to keep his emotions in check. Its obvious he cares deeply for Michael and his team. It's evident in the tone, but most of all, in his eyes. Sorrow, guilt, and misery cloaks the very air around him, even when he departs, it leaves a trail.

"It seems as though Alpha Braithwright found his mate." William claps me on the back.

"It seems I have."

"Congrats Alpha. At least some happiness happened on the awful day." Brandon sniffles before continuing. "I'm glad that it's Lt. Emmett Johnson. Michael said he's a good man."

"Emmett?" I say his name for the first time, liking the way his name rolls off my tongue.

"A certain player sounds like he's ready to settle down." William gloats.

"I'm a 28 year old Alpha with no mate. It's time for the pack to have their Luna." I smirk. "First a gay Beta and now an Alpha, there must be something in the water."

"It appears so!" William chuckles.

Brandon not caring for the direction our conversation is going, ignores it and hugs me tightly around the waist. "Thank you. Thank you for not rejecting him."

I'm confused. "Why do you care so much?"

He pulls away from me, going back to William. "Because Michael and Emmett were close. He saved Michael many times."

I growl, jealously clawing at my heart. "It wasn't like that Alpha. Michael was straight."

"What about Emmett?" I ask Brandon, wanting to know his orientation.

"I don't know." He shrugs his shoulders "He never said."

"I'll find out." I say with determination. "Now let's get to the wake."

Not needing to be told twice, we all move to the limo. Sliding in, we ride back to the pack house in silence.

Climbing out of the limo, I breathe deeply taking in the welcoming scent of my home and land, the scent of the Kels human family and friends alone with the Marines scurrying up my territorial side. The scent of my packmates and mate calming my nerves slightly.

Catching my mate's scent, I track it into the packhorse, stepping into the opened room, my eyes land on Emmett who is talking to his team. He must've felt my gaze on him as he meets my eyes from across the room.

Not able to break the eye contact, i step over to him and his group. Finally with a chance to talk to my mate and better yet touch him, I hold out my hand.

"Hello, Lt. Johnson. I'll like to formally introduce myself. I am Leon Braithwright." And just like what I wanted to do since I first smelt him, I am finally touching my mate. His callused hand feels heavenly in my own. Sparks erupts, my wolf whines, and my heart melts right then and there.

"Hello Mr. Braithwright. I'm Emmett." My wolf whines louder as our hands are slowly pulled away.

"Please, call me Leon." I softly smile.

"Leon." He tries it on his tongue. He then smirks. "It's weird calling someone by their first name. I'm so used to calling them by their last."

I chuckle. "So how is it being a Marine?" Wanting to know what his status is on about being one.

"Hard work. But nothing I can't handle. I love fighting for my country." He answers with a gorgeous grin that makes me heart beat faster.

"How long have you been in the Marines?" I ask with curiosity, wanting to know every little detail about my mate.

"Since I've graduated at 18. I'm now 28, so 10 years." So my mates the same age as me. I wonder why I didn't find him at school.

"Did you go to Clear Creek High School?" I ask wanting to know why I didn't meet him before.

"I went to Lincoln High School, the next town over." Emmett responds. So that's why I haven't met him before at school. I wouldn't meet him in town because I was too busy with my Alpha Duties.

"Did you play any sports?"

"Yes, soccer and track. I didn't care much for football." He answers. "Even if I did, band and football practice schedules conjoined."

I chuckle lightly. "You don't seem like a man who would play an instrument."

He chuckles also. "I get that a lot, but I enjoyed playing music."

"Which instrument did you play?"

"I'm not bragging or anything, but I played the alto, tanner, baritone, and soprano saxophones, trumpet, piano, and percussion." With a gigantic triumph smirk.

"That was totally bragging!"

"Maybe a little."

"So what made the band geek become a Marine?"

"I'm from a long line of military men. I decided to go into, as I say, the family business." I like how he freely answering my questions. "Now it's my turn to question you, Mr. Braithwright."

I nod, I'll never deny him anything, the least of all, a simple question. "What activities did you partake in high school?"

"Unlike you, I liked football. Which happens to be the only sport I played. I was a wiz on the debate team, and I might have dabbled in Art and Comic Book Club. I will not deny nor confirm that."

And just like that, for just a moment, we forget about this tragic day as we lose ourselves in this room tucked in a corner in our own little world.