10 Dates with Mr. Alpha (MXM)

Chapter 4

Chapter Four
The Third Date: Borderlines

————-

Kiel laced his boots tighter, the rough bark of the patrol post creaking above him as night settled thick and cold across the northern forest. The woods were quiet, but it wasn't peace—it was silence thick with waiting.

He could feel eyes.

And worse—he could feel him.

Ronan was up in the watchtower, scanning the perimeter with that lazy-but-alert posture that drove Kiel insane. As if this patrol was nothing. As if being this close to his fated mate wasn't crawling under his skin.

This was the third "date."

A test of trust.

His parents thought working together would help "build unity."

Kiel snorted. If by unity they meant biting each other in the dark, sure.

"Your pacing's giving me whiplash," Ronan called from above.

Kiel didn't answer.

Instead, he shoved the post's creaky door open and climbed up the ladder. Each rung thumped with the weight of tension. When he reached the top, Ronan was leaning against the railing, arms folded, jaw tight with restraint.

The air between them instantly snapped taut.

"See anything?" Kiel asked.

"Just you," Ronan said without missing a beat.

Kiel rolled his eyes and sat on the bench by the far wall. The tower was small—one room, no lights, just the fire of their eyes in the dark and the ever-present weight of the bond between them.

"You've been quiet," Ronan said after a moment.

"So have you."

Ronan exhaled. "We're running out of ways to pretend this isn't happening."

"It's not supposed to be happening," Kiel snapped. "We were enemies for years. You made my life hell."

"And you made mine impossible," Ronan growled back. "But I never wanted to need you."

Kiel's lips twitched. "Now you do?"

Ronan was silent.

The truth buzzed between them. Unspoken but heavy.

Kiel looked away, jaw clenched. "I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask to be bound to someone who makes me want to tear off my own skin."

Ronan took a step forward. "And yet you kissed me."

"I also bit you."

"I came."

Kiel flinched. "Don't—"

"Don't what?" Ronan stepped even closer now, looming. "Don't remind you that you moaned my name so loud the wolves heard you three miles out?"

"I said don't." Kiel was on his feet now, shoving him.

Ronan didn't budge.

Instead, he reached out and grabbed Kiel's wrist, spinning him, slamming him lightly against the cold wood wall. "Why are you fighting this so hard?" he demanded, voice thick.

"Because it scares the shit out of me."

The words slipped out before Kiel could stop them.

Ronan froze.

Kiel stared up at him, chest heaving. "You scare me. This scares me. You're not supposed to be the one I feel safe with. You're supposed to be the one I beat bloody in training."

"And now I make you tremble instead."

Kiel shivered—not from fear, but from the way Ronan said it. Like a promise. Like a confession.

The bond flared.

Their wolves howled, primal and insistent.

Ronan leaned in, lips ghosting along Kiel's neck. "Tell me to stop."

Kiel didn't.

Ronan's mouth met his, and the world dropped away.

It wasn't gentle. Nothing about them ever was. But this time, there was desperation laced between the kisses, like they were trying to drown in each other before the bond drowned them first.

Kiel's hands yanked Ronan's shirt open, buttons flying. His mouth traced the hard line of Ronan's collarbone before he bit, not to hurt, but to claim. Ronan hissed, gripping his hips, grinding into him until they were both gasping.

"Need you," Ronan murmured against his throat.

Kiel shoved his pants down, baring him to the cold night air. "Then take me."

There was no bed.

Just the wall and their bodies.

Ronan turned him around, pinning him with one arm, the other sliding down to stroke him slow and hot. Kiel gasped, pushing back, needy. Their scents tangled thick in the small space—earthy pine, spicy musk, heat and hunger.

"Please," Kiel groaned, voice cracking.

That single word broke Ronan.

He slicked his fingers with spit, working them in, slow at first, then rougher when Kiel rocked into it, begging with his body. When Ronan finally pushed inside, it was with a growl so deep it rattled the tower.

Kiel bit his own hand to keep from crying out.

"Say it," Ronan whispered, hips rolling into him. "Say you want it."

"I want it," Kiel gasped. "Fuck—I want you."

Ronan drove deeper, clutching Kiel's hip with bruising force. Their rhythm built fast—flesh slapping, breath catching. Ronan leaned down, pressing his chest to Kiel's back, mouth on his ear.

"You're mine."

"No marks," Kiel panted.

"No visible ones," Ronan agreed.

His hand snaked around to stroke Kiel in time with each thrust. When they both came, it was with teeth sunk into each other's shoulders, bodies shaking, vision white-hot.

Silence fell after, heavy and thick.

Kiel sagged against the wall, sweat cooling on his skin.

Ronan pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck—too soft, too real.

Kiel turned to face him slowly. "We can't keep doing this."

"You keep saying that," Ronan murmured, brushing hair from his face, "but your body doesn't agree."

"I don't know what to do with how I feel when I'm around you," Kiel admitted quietly.

Ronan's gaze softened. "Then let's figure it out. One date at a time."

Kiel swallowed.

Outside, the wind howled through the trees. A signal. Something was stirring near the southern border. But neither of them moved.

Because for now, they weren't enemies.

They were just two boys tangled in something too big to name, still panting, still burning, and already wondering what the fourth date would break open next.

⸻