Torn (Werewolf boyxboy)

Chapter 4

Osias

(Image above is somewhat how I see Berlin's Dad to look like)

It's been two days. Two, agonizing days since Berlin left me in a stunned silence, leaning against the closet door like an idiot. At the time, his words caught me so off guard that I could not speak or even stand to reach out and prevent him from leaving my room. For the first time in my life, I felt as if I had no control over the situation. 

For these past 48 hours, my wolf has been pacing impatiently in my mind, whining painfully at the fact that our mate does not fully accept our bonding. Although Berlin did not specifically reject us, his reluctance to advance in our mating relationship quickly took a toll on both my physical and mental well-being. I had to fight my wolf after the first day, forcing him back into a deep sleep in order for him to shut the hell up about our mate. 

I didn't have a second of peace.

However, that feeling of sheer need was also beginning to pull at me as the hours dragged by. I was a wreck as an Alpha -- attending meetings in a jittery stupor and even zoning out when meeting important guests -- all because of the little twink whose scent and body is engrained into my mind. Thoughts of Berlin were slowly driving me insane, and I knew that if I did not do something about it by the end of the day, both my wolf and I may lose control. I couldn't allow that to happen.

Werewolves, especially Alphas, have an extremely strong bond with their mates from the moment that they find them. It runs deeper than mere blood, DNA or a random gene pool, but rather a specific pairing chosen by the goddess herself. The mates are completely dependent on one another, and without their match, a wolf may suffer pain either mentally, physically or at the same time. If the pairing is rejected, the two involved with the pairing will both go be forced to endure the pain of their choices. I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't in fucking agony right now.

I knew that he was avoiding me at all costs. At most, I would be able to catch a flurry of a short, blonde ponytail flurry around the corner from the dining hall, or catch wind of his twinkling laughter as he giggled until his face assumed the color of a ripe strawberry. Even so, I knew something was wrong. His heart was laced with sadness, and it penetrated him to his very core. I could almost feel the barbed wire around his heart pierce through mine as well. It made me quite depressed to know that he was withholding information, but to force it from him would only make my situation worse than it already is. 

"Ortiz, I want you to call for Danny Cahill. To my office. Now." I waved away my Beta, sending him a growl as he rolled his eyes and fell off of the couch in the far side of my office, on which he was taking a nap. So childish.

"Whatever." he grumbled angrily, shooting me a piercing glare over his shoulder before stomping out of the room in a similar manner to what I would have done myself. 

As I waited for Ortiz to fetch Danny, I happened to glance out of my window. What I saw caused me to do a double, and then a triple take. My breath hitched at the sight of Berlin sitting on a bright blue picnic blanket alone, eating from a bag of baby carrots and cradling a large novel in his hand. The soft wind caused his hair to swirl around his heavenly face. It was a perfect sight, I only wished that I was able to join him on this beautiful day.

"A-Alpha... You called for me?" came a timid voice from the other side of the mahogany, french doors of my office.

"Enter." I replied calmly, leaning back in my leather office chair and tearing my eyes away from the angel outside of my window. The door slowly swung open as a larger version of Berlin walked into my office. Although he was taller than Berlin, he was still on the short side on the werewolf scale. Danny kept his head down in both a respectful and submissive manner, only glancing up once in order to shortly examine my rather recumbent position. He stayed quiet, waiting my next words as if he was a puppy awaiting orders; although rather than shaking from happiness, his slim fingers were shivering with what looked to be sheer terror.