The Alpha's Addiction [BXB]

Chapter 33: Home

Fortunately, the casualties sustained in the attack were relatively low due to Cyrus's quick response and the regular attack drills he made his warriors practice. He doesn't accept praise of any kind for it, though, which is so him. Not that I've gotten to see much of him lately.

I feel stupid and childish for crying and running off like I did. I keep trying to find the right moment to talk things over with him, but I chicken out every time. I can tell he wants to talk to me as well, but it's like whenever we're in proximity of each other Beau's pipsqueak ass has to barge in and cling onto Cyrus like a pest. I've witnessed the awkward shake-off Cyrus does of the tiny omega multiple times by now, ever the gentle giant as he removes Beau from himself.

I understand that it's how Juliet raised him--not to lay a hand on omegas--but I wouldn't mind if he gave Beau a good smack at least once. If he doesn't, I will soon enough.

The other day Beau was babbling on and on about how scared he was during the attack, nearly hanging off of Cyrus's arm.

"Oh, I was so worried for you, Cyrus! But I just knew the Moon Goddess would bring you back to me, safe and sound," he batted his ridiculously curled lashes up at my alpha, and I swear I could have strangled him.

Morgan's been healing well, with Xavier refusing to leave his side. The two newly established love birds can't keep their hands off each other. Take it from me, who had to be there when the nurse advised them to avoid certain activities until Morgan was fully recovered.

From the mischievous giggle my friend emitted as Xavier covered his face in embarrassment, they totally fucked in that hospital bed. The wounds Morgan sustained are thankfully not on his lower half...

Despite things looking up, I can't shake the feeling that I'm forgetting something about the attack. I could have sworn there was something that didn't sit right with me, but I can't for the life of me recall what it was. I know that an alliance that the attacking Pack held with the Blood Pack unsettled me as well, but this wasn't about that.

I sigh, brushing a golden curl out of Oliver's face as he sleeps soundly beside me. He's almost 9 already, having grown several inches since we arrived in this pack. My baby boy. He looks so peaceful like this. No one would guess the horrors that he's been through.

I often spend my nights like this, relenting insomnia keeping me awake. It's like my nerves haven't settled ever since the attack. Being away from my mate certainly hasn't helped. I keep remembering the regret, the pain flashing in his eyes as I started to cry.

But then I remember how he'd shouted, cursed at me. Is all I am to him really an 'insolent brat' that he's drawn to solely because of our mate bond? It's harrowing to even consider.

I drift off to sleep with these worries swirling around my mind, sure to plague my dreams...

I am on a battlefield.

It's deserted, but the debris of the fight litters the ground, fallen warriors at every turn. I'm overcome with horror, the feeling coiling in my gut and nearly consuming me. Where is he? Where is he?!

I run from corpse to corpse, flipping them over or swiping their hair from their face, praying to the Moon Goddess above that my mate's icy blue eyes will not be revealed. He can't be among the fallen.

With each dead body I go through, the dread inside me deepens. I reach the last warrior, my heart seizing as I take in the male's large size and dark hair. No. No no no no no no!

I sink to my knees at his side. I turn the head that feels all too familiar, revealing the slack face of my mate as he stares lifelessly up at the sky. Gone. Taken from me.