Alpha Assignment (BL) Chapter 52 (Early Access) (Patreon)

"I want to live outside of Assembly control."

Eveline swallowed.

"I don't want them dictating my life, I don't want to dictate anyone else's either. I want to be free and I want everyone else to be, too." Quinn sighed. "I hate that I can't help you, or anyone else who runs from their packs, but I have to put myself and my mate first."

Eveline waited, patient and polite, for Quinn to finish his short ramble. "It's a nice theory, but in practice - if you don't mind me voicing so, Alpha-” Quinn nodded for her to continue. “Rules are required to keep the big fish from devouring all the smaller ones. And alphas are the big fish."

"Are you not running from a bigger fish?" Quinn tilted his head, he didn't mean to be unkind, only curious. "Straight into the shadow of another big fish to hide under?"

A small smile crept along Eveline's mouth. "You are correct, Alpha - the system is not perfect - but I still prefer the existence of any kind of law over a free-for-all of our kind running wild around the world."

Quinn dropped his chin to his palm. He liked this woman, there was something thoughtful, and collected about her presence that intrigued him. Despite being starved within a few days of death, she was still so coherent and well-mannered...

"What would you do in my position?” he asked of the frail woman. “Genuinely, I'd like to hear your thoughts."

"I don't think you would be at ease with my choices if our roles were reversed, Alpha."

"You would form a pack?"

"No, Alpha."

Quinn's brows raised.

Eveline continued without asking for permission this time, "May I ask if you own the land this home sits on, Alpha?"

"You may, and I do." Well, he and the bank owned it…

"Then," she glanced around as though scanning the perimeter, "I would apply for Sanctuary."

"You have a place of Sanctuary, in those forests."

"You cannot build on existing Sanctuary lands,” Eveline advised. Calm and collected as she schooled the alpha on the workings of their world. “Here you have shelter already, and it is your home, Alpha. You would become.... without any official title, a protector of your own private Sanctuary."

"I like that," Quinn admitted. Although opening up his home to any and all was daunting... he couldn't imagine himself ever actually turning away someone in need, especially if the Assembly wasn't on his back.

"The applications rarely get approved, but that is what I would do in your position, Alpha." Eveline folded her hands over each other on the table, as though she had finished her presentation and was awaiting feedback.

"I don't have a full understanding of how Sanctuary works, but would I be able to reject certain people from entering - I have a list." The packs they had been shared into were local, the most likely locations to offer runaways.

Eveline thought for a moment, looking at the wall just past Quinn’s head - presumably running through sheets of legislature in her mind. "Not officially, but I doubt anyone would need more than an alpha's refusal to turn hide. You have many enemies?"

"No, but I make anyone who hurts my mate my enemy - and his last pack was cruel."

"I understand, Alpha."

They sat in silence for a at least a full minute before a little fluffy head peeked through the kitchen door. Big, dark eyes coaxed Quinn's heart open.

"Let's do it."

Eveline and Remi perked with perfect synchronisation.

"Really?" Remi gasped.

Quinn smiled. "Yes, let's open up our home as a Sanctuary."

Remi leapt over the table and into Quinn's arms, leaving his legs splayed over the top at odd angles. Eveline gracefully dodged being kicked in the face and smiled at the pair, with a slight weariness that was all too familiar in another Assembly employee Quinn could name.

There was no need to extend the bond, Remi was ecstatic. "Thank you, Quinn! It's going to be so safe and lovely because you're here!"

Quinn chuckled. "Is that all I'm good for? Being big and off-putting to other wolves?" Teasing as though he didn’t just about burst at the seams with pride knowing his scent had kept all sorts of paws off his precious mate.

"No!" Remi giggled. "You're good at lots of things." His eyes glazed in a flash so fast anyone who hadn't just spent a shower with them would have missed it.

"Do you have a printer, Alpha?” The question ripped them both back to reality. “I can begin filling out the application right away." Eveline was newly invigorated, the shell of skin and bone had become animated at the prospect of taking action.

Quinn answered, "It's upstairs since I never use it anymore, I'll go grab it." After a round of messy kisses over Remi's forehead, his little mate slid back over the table and to the ground again, releasing Quinn to go on the hunt for the old machine.

At the top of the stairs, he caught Wes mid-hallway-creep. Before he could take a step in any direction, Quinn snatched his collar and slammed him into the wall. He made a noise that told Quinn he'd just choked on his own breath.

"Wes," Quinn growled, low but pleasant. A deadly quiet exchange between acquaintances. "I don’t think you realise there’s only one person in this house that gives a fuck about you, and it’s not me."

"Eveline?" Wes wheezed hopefully.

"No."

"I ju-"

"No, you just nothing. You just shut the fuck up and stop giving me and my mate attitude."

"Sorry, Alpha."

"Don't."

Wes clamped his mouth shut.

"My mate wants you to be well, he has nursed you back to health with his own hands, and you still can't show him any respect.” And it boiled Quinn’s blood. “This is not a pack, there are no hierarchies to determine rank here. You will show respect to all others while you're under this roof, do you understand?"

Wes nodded. It meant nothing, and the realisation hit Quinn in the chest. Nothing Wes said, no agreement would mean anything. He didn’t know if he could forgive, because what could Wes do to prove himself anymore?

Remi’s words crept back to him, unwanted… but maybe needed. He had been feeling so much more aggressive, taking every slight to his mate as a blow to his personal pride. Simultaneously, Remi lacked anger completely, and that scared Quinn. Someone had to be the avenger, the fighter, the defender…

"I may not uphold any titled bullshit,” he said through a tight jaw, “but I also won't tolerate disrespect to my mate. My secondary gender doesn't mean anything to me - Remi is my everything, and I'd fight anyone for him whether I was an alpha or not."

Wes nodded again, and Quinn dropped him. He landed on his feet but crashed back into the wall, steadying himself with outstretched arms. He looked like he was experiencing a one-man earthquake.

"I want to be gone as much as you want me gone, just so you know," he said sulkily. It was this tone, paired with this expression, that regressed his age even further in Quinn’s mind. Everyone younger than him seemed like a kid, but Wes particularly had moments that were more teen than man. Perhaps Remi knew his true age, Quinn was curious…

"I don't want you gone,” he said. Whether it was the truth was to be seen. The sentiment would please Remi, though. “I want you to get along."

Wes' expression was uncertain, awaiting a trick or jab. A little ignorance or naivete flickering up at Quinn.

"We are going to be applying for Sanctuary status for this place, and you'd be well within your right to stay."

Something child-like seemed to take over him, his age reducing even further with a pout. "That doesn't mean you'd want me." He looked away, and Quinn had to remind himself that he was not the alpha or a parent: it was not his job to want anyone under his control. Yet, Wes acted as though he wanted to be… wanted. Included. A part of something.

Quinn sighed. "We're happy to have anyone who can play nice."

"For real?" He glanced up and pressed his lips together. Bracing for the smack of reality.

"Of course."

"Then... I'm sorry... for real."

"Prove it."

Wes folded his arms around his chest, more hug than display of machismo. "I will," he mumbled.

Quinn nodded in the direction of the stairs, and Wes took the silent order.

While he dug around the cobweb-decorated attic for his ancient printer, he caught snippets of sounds that indicated some team cleaning was taking place downstairs. Final chance, Wes, he thought.