10 Dates with Mr. Alpha (MXM)

Chapter 12

Kiel turned, eyes dancing. "Somewhere I can wear clothes and not worry about being tackled."

Ronan smirked. "That might be hard."

But by noon, they were back at the packhouse—both freshly showered, bruises hidden under collars, and every wolf they passed paused. The scent was obvious.

Claimed. Mated. Soul-bound.

Some looked surprised. Others satisfied. But a few... looked tense.

When they reached the kitchen, Elda—Ronan's mother—was waiting. Arms crossed. Lips tight.

"Well," she said, glancing between their necks. "You couldn't wait until the tenth date?"

Kiel flushed. "Sorry, ma'am."

Ronan stepped forward, jaw set. "Don't. Don't apologize. We tried. It's done."

She sighed. "I know. I just hoped... you'd come to terms with your history before letting your wolves decide for you."

"We did come to terms," Kiel said quietly. "On our own terms."

Elda nodded slowly, then softened. "I'm proud of you both. You fought hard. And you didn't run from it."

She reached forward, brushing Kiel's cheek. "But be ready. Not everyone's going to accept it."

"I don't care," Ronan said, protective and sharp.

"You should," Elda replied. "Because if you think mating is the final battle, you're wrong."

Kiel and Ronan exchanged a look. The bond between them was hot, humming, fresh. But Elda's words struck true.

The real war might be beginning.

But for now... they still had a date.

⸻

Later That Evening – Sixth Date Begins

Ronan took Kiel out of the territory borders for the first time. Just the two of them, no patrols, no eyes. They drove for hours to a cliffside lake, where the sunset kissed the water with molten gold.

There was no pressure. No sex.

Just a picnic. Cider. Music playing low from the truck stereo.

Ronan leaned back, arm slung around Kiel's shoulders. "So... does this count as an actual date?"

Kiel smiled, resting his head on Ronan's shoulder. "Yeah. It's perfect."

And for the first time since they were kids, they just talked.

About stupid memories.

About the way Ronan once tripped during a full moon hunt.

About how Kiel used to stare at Ronan during combat training, not in hate—but in confusion.

"I didn't know why you made my chest hurt," Kiel said quietly. "I thought I wanted to fight you. But really... I just wanted to touch you."

Ronan laughed softly. "Same. You were like a storm. And I kept walking into it."

They didn't kiss that night.

They didn't fuck.

They just existed.

Mated. Bonded. Healing.

It was quiet.

Not an uncomfortable silence—but the kind that held everything unspoken. Soft. Whole. Sacred.

Ronan lifted Kiel's hand, kissed his knuckles. "It's strange."

"What is?"

"That I used to hate you. And now I can't go five minutes without wanting to touch you."