A/N: By far the longest chapter. Capping at just over 5k words, this one actually wasn't incredibly painful to write (besides the beginning). For future reference, I will probably move the first half to the previous chapter once I get around to editing. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy, and please let me know what you think :) Love you guys <3

Side note: Forever grateful to my discord friends who hype me up for non-angsty moments, and just in general. The latter part of the chapter couldn't have been done without their help. Love you bishes <3

Chapter 60

Song (First half): Down by Simon ft. Trella, Fallout by UNSECRET, Neoni

Song (Second half): Tether Me by Galleaux/Heart by Sleeping at Last

Vince's POV

Despite the overwhelming desire to flee, I heeded Simon's warning, even if it seemed like a terrible idea. Two growls emerged from either side of me, and things started to make sense again. To my right, Lucas emerged from one of the caverns, rushing Michael and tackling him to the ground. To my left, my cousin and another beta, Dwaine emerged, his dark coat moved in a blur as he assisted Lucas. How I hadn't even been aware of their presence was unknown to me, but I was grateful they were here.

But I needed to know. Where was Simon?

Michael steered his direction towards the betas, snarling and snapping at their sides. Dwaine circled him as Lucas had gripped the back of Michael's neck. They pranced around, as Lucas thrashed his head, attempting to tear at the nape of his neck. Dwaine waited for an opportunity to strike, clawing at Michael's side, but I knew this wasn't enough. Michael was an adept fighter, something he had proven time and time again, both when he was here, and as a rogue.

And watching Michael practically messing with the two confirmed my suspicions. He was expecting me to fight too, but even with the three of us, there was no way we could hold our own. He knew all of our fighting techniques, he had practically taught us them.

He flung Lucas off his back, and I stepped forward, wondering what was the best course of action in fighting him. As I was about to lunge, A growl emerged from the mouth of the cave.

As we whipped our heads to the sound, my heart lodged in my throat. A wave of relief hit me as Xavier stood proudly, my mate beside him.

He was okay, I told myself. He was okay, and so was Xavier. They appeared to have minor injuries, but they were okay. Simon turned and gave me a gentle smile before turning his attention to Michael. 

With another growl, Xavier stalked forward, sizing Michael up as he remained calm, not even fazed by the open wounds Lucas had inflicted on his neck.

"Surely you aren't all stupid enough to believe the rogues are merely after just him." Michael snarled, rearing his head towards me. "Deprived of resources, food, medicine, you name it all. These rogues have more than just vengeance on their minds. There will be nothing left of that goddess-forsaken place."

"You," I fumed at Michael. I turned to Dwaine and Lucas and mind-linked them to head back to the pack. "You'd have your home destroyed? Pillaged and slaughtered?"

The betas looked at me, but I urged them to go. If the rogues had still been at the pack, I didn't want to risk the chance that Michael would have them destroy it all. Hesitantly, they retreated and left the cave. Michael turned towards us with a smirk, an ominous look in those eyes that flickered between his normal blue to his wolf's yellow.

He narrowed his eyes and scoffed. "Was my home. Besides, I can't control what the rogues do. What they do is of their own will. The only thing we desired was to wreak havoc on those that ruined our lives."

Without thinking, I charged, fueled by rage at his lack of sympathy for a place he was supposed to defend, or from the earlier frustrations of all he had done. I bared my teeth before lunging for his neck, but before I could even clamp down on the scruff, his head whipped around and gripped mine tightly. I yelped, before trying to bite at any exposed skin I could manage to reach.

He clamped his jaws tighter before thrashing me around, aggravating my injured shoulder more. He flung me to the ground, the rugged cave floor digging into my existing wounds.

"So killing me?" I asked breathlessly, lifting my head up. "What does that solve? It won't bring David back, won't undo the things that happened."

"No, it wouldn't," he spat before glancing at Simon. "But I never expected for this to happen."

"What a shame," he bared his teeth at Simon as he continued. "Pathetic, really. You could have gotten the vengeance you deserved if you had joined me."

Simon scoffed. "Vengeance? Why would I hurt my mate, what good would that do?"

Michael let out a deep growl as he took a step closer. I bit back a cry of pain as I struggled to my feet, the earlier jostle and shoulder injury making it incredibly difficult. "He hurt you, Simon. Ruined you and your family's lives. What then, if not vengeance? He's the very one who ordered it."

"For something you did," Simon snarled, a dark look in his eyes as Michael continued to approach him.

"I only did what was necessary."

"To go through such lengths," Simon chuffed. "To hurt your father, your brothers, the pack. What kind of vengeance is that?"

Michael paused in his tracks."His actions were harsh and preventable. To be that extreme, to hurt you like that, yet for you to be that pathetic enough to defend the asshole that made you suffer for years, Simon."

"Pathetic? You're mad that I would defend my mate," Simon snapped, letting out a growl from where he stood. "Yet you'd start a war, wreak havoc on your home all because you failed to protect your own mate. Who's really the pathetic one?"

Michael snarled at that, whirring his head towards Simon, his body language poised to attack.

No, a silent scream erupted in my throat as he rushed Simon, who stumbled to his feet near the cliff. No, I wouldn't be able to reach him in time. He was too far out of my reach.

From my right, Xavier had let out a snarl that I had never heard before. One so unadulteratedly raw and animalistic that it stopped me in my tracks. Despite the wound on his side, he had lunged forward, barreling straight into Michael, who had been just a hair away from reaching Simon.

And in a blur, Michael had vanished over the cliff edge. Gone.

There was a long pause, where we all froze in place, only the sound of the whistling winter wind filling the air. It had happened so quickly, that it felt too easy, too simple.

Yet staring at the empty cliff edge, the air starting to feel heavy with each second. And even from here, I could see the way Xavier shook, his body curling in on himself, and not just from the cold.

"Vince." Xavier let out a shaky breath as the wind howled on, as the snow eased up now, falling as if in slow motion.

I didn't want to confirm it, to acknowledge what I had seen, but deep down I couldn't help but know that that was exactly what I had seen. And despite how wrong it felt, I was relieved. If Xavier hadn't jumped in, I was sure it could've easily been Simon, and that thought shook me to my core.

"I-I didn't mean to-"

"I know," I told him, noticing the tension in his shoulders. It was like walking in quicksand, approaching the cliff's edge, standing beside him as he stared down the cliff. Xavier's ears were drawn back, his tail tucked as he let out a low whine. He was utterly terrified, at what he had done, or from what this would entail. Either way, my heart ached.

Judging by how tall the sheer drop was, there was a high probability that Michael never survived that fall. And from above, with the way his black coat contrasted the snow, completely still, it appeared whatever little chance he stood had failed.

Simon sauntered towards us, the fresh wound from his upper arm oozed a trail of blood down to his paw. He looked between us, before settling on Xavier's shaken form. "Are you alright?"

He didn't reply, but Simon nudged his side. He let out a distressed whine, before turning away, stepping away from the cliff edge. Simon turned to me, presumably to ask the same thing, but I beat him to it. "Are you okay?

He tilted his side before raising his injured leg. "It's minor, along with some other scratches, I'm alright. You?"

I hummed before the questions swirled in my mind. Not even sure how to word it, I mumbled, "How did you..."

Know Michael would find me? Get those big oafs here in hiding before I did? Learn to fight like that? Manage to lose that many rogues on your own?

I wasn't sure where to begin.

"How did I what?" He hummed. But now that I thought about it, did it matter? He was here, with me. He was safe, along with Xavier, and for the most part, the pack would be safe.

"Nevermind, I'll check to confirm," I told them, my voice weak and wavering. "If he's..."

I trailed off but they seemed to get the message. That or they were still in shock, but who could blame them. Most fights ended bloody, few resulted in fights to the death, and being thrown from a cliff was even rarer. It had been unexpected, and I wasn't sure what to feel.

Was I supposed to be happy if he was dead? Was that wrong? Despite the shit he's done, the shit that I've done, he was still my brother. Was it wrong to be happy, to be hurt, to be confused about it all, all at the same time?

As I headed down the mountain, I couldn't help but fear what would happen now. What would happen to the pack now, to me and Xavier? Would Simon's reaction and opinion change once he's realized what happened? He had been subjected to a lot of death in his life because of me, who's to say this one wouldn't push him away for good?

And as Michael's crumpled form became clear, the fear gripped me tighter than the wind shears. I stepped closer to his body, almost half-expecting him to jump to life, to snarl and lunge at me. But he was still. His hind legs looked broken, his neck bent at an awkward angle. I stood above him, took note of the damages, watched his chest, and felt for a pulse. I could feel my stomach drop.

He wasn't breathing. No pulse.

He was dead. Dead. Maybe it was the wind chill, but a cold sensation gripped my chest, my breaths ragged as I let that sink in. A concept that was not foreign to me, but still intangible to grasp. My brother was dead.

And Xavier had done it. It was a cruel fact and knowing its implications didn't make this dreadful feeling go away. Under any other circumstances, Xavier wouldn't hurt a fly.

As I stared at the speckled snow that fell upon Michael's coat, my mind spiraled at the extent of everything that had transpired. Xavier had killed him, albeit unintentionally. And whether the council saw this as a legitimate challenge or a coup, that meant the title of alpha would fall to him. Xavier never wanted that damn title, and knowing how demanding the council was, I feared they'd tear him apart too. I wouldn't let that happen. Even if Simon despised me for it, at least Xavier wouldn't face the council's wrath.

I gulped as another gust of chill air swept by, the snow coming down steadily now. Up above, Simon and Xavier had trekked three-quarters of the way down the mountain.

I was running out of time before they could see me clearly. I hesitated, but exposed my canines, biting down on Michael's neck, his blood getting cold as it coated the inside of my mouth. I quelled the nausea, as I let his blood spill, my scent masking Xavier's. Releasing his throat, I stepped back, just as Xavier and Simon approached me.

"Vince?"

I turned to look at Xavier, and to my mate who stared in trepidation, evading their gazes at what remained of Michael. I tried to ignore the awful taste of blood and put on a stern face.

"I finished the job," I lied to them, and although I never intended to lie to either of them, I couldn't let them have his death on either of their consciences. They didn't deserve that. If the council could find any scents on his body, I only hoped they'd find mine. Xavier didn't need their ridicule and slander, and neither did Simon. "H-he was hardly breathing, he wouldn't have made it anyways."

Simon had made a face as if he read past my lie, but I looked at him firmly, praying to the goddess that he'd believe me, or at the very least play along. Xavier didn't move from his spot as Simon limped towards me, and I didn't blame him. I half expected them to bolt, to be angry that I had finished him off. Despite it all, Simon brushed up against me, his presence easing some of the anxieties I carried.

It's okay, I told him, even if it was slightly untrue. Regardless I leaned into him, burying my head into his shoulder, letting the bond ease my nerves. He hummed, but I could tell by the tension in his shoulders and the way he shook, that he was just as terrified. He can't hurt us anymore. It's over.

---

Word had traveled so fast, that news of Michael's death had spread by the time we had made it back to the pack. According to Xavier and Lucas, the pack up North, and surely their allies were well aware of what had occurred a couple of days ago as well. Rumors swept through the pack quickly, of Michael's deceit, and also how I had killed him. Good, I thought. They didn't need to know what happened atop the cliff.

Surprisingly enough, the pack hadn't been in complete disarray. Our casualty had remained low considering the amount of rogues that had infiltrated. A couple of buildings had been damaged, the RCPP was in need of a new fence, the orphanage had been vandalized, and it appeared a couple of rogues had attempted to breach the packhouse. But other than that, very few houses were damaged, and more so, most of the pack members had been unscathed.

Among the casualties, most had been older betas, a couple had been a part of the council, others had been some betas and deltas that defended the border. George, among others that had scorned me in the past, were among those that perished. Michael really had been an enigma. He hadn't been interested in inciting such a bloody battle at all, it seemed. After researching and spending hours in the council room, pulling out documents and files Michael worked on personally, he had circled pictures, old and new of people that had died. The attack was purposeful, aimed to kill those that had failed Michael before. And in some sick but grateful way, they had been the people that had scorned me, disrespected, and refused to accept anything I said in any matter. In some way, as much as it was wrong of me to say, I was glad Michael had done that.

We buried the dead's bodies the morning after the attack, along with the rogues. Michael's body had been buried last, and although it should have been a somber and sad service, I felt nothing. I didn't cry, wasn't even sure I had managed to say the things I was supposed to say. I had just felt so numb since it had happened, and I wasn't sure if it would've been different had we postponed the burial.

As the pack mourned the loss of Michael, regardless of what he had incited, I had been more focused on the dwindling time I had to prepare for the coronation. The council had given me three days till I was supposed to be sworn in, again. Three days to prepare the first council meeting and reassure that I was capable of being the pack's leader again. I had spent the first day mourning the dead, reestablishing the pack boundaries with the betas, along with checking the damages from the attack.

The second day I had holed myself up in the council room, pulling out documents and files, my curiosity of what Michael had done had led me to finding some interesting information. I had also spent most of the night organizing the files, finding things that needed to be addressed and taking notes on what might need to be changed going forward.

By the third day, I had been exhausted. Just like it had been when I first was sworn in, I wondered if it was really possible for me to do this again. As I pulled out some documents to scan through, I found some of the draft letters I had been working on. Maybe I shouldn't have looked at them, but it was a good distraction from these files. I had yet to finish them, to come up with just one draft that I had liked and been able to say everything I wanted to say.

I picked one up, a longer draft. This had been one of the closest to completion, but it still didn't sound right, no matter how many times I had read or tried to fix it.

No matter how many times I wrote it, it just wasn't enough.

With a quick succession of knocks at the door, I quickly placed the paper precariously under one of the folders. The door swung open, and Simon peeked his head out. I had hardly seen him these past days, and I felt awful about it. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't missed him.

"I've brought your favorite. It's a bit late for coffee, but I figured you had a lot to work on before the meeting tomorrow morning." Simon took large strides towards my side, a mug and a plate of an assortment of pastries in his hands. "Latte with extra espresso, croissant, danishes, and I think some kind-of tart Loreta made."

He set it down besides some of the folders before taking a seat beside me. I thanked him before flipping through a random folder. I tried to focus on it, tried to make sense of them but my eyes wandered to Simon who seemed perfectly content with just watching me. I had missed this. Him sitting besides me casually like this, in awe of simple and boring things like these documents.

But in the same aspect of him being able to read me like a book, nothing ever got past him, even the letters that I had failed to hide. He hummed before scooting the plate of treats off the folder.

"You know," he sighed, before pulling the piece of paper from the folder, glancing it over before panning his brown eyes to meet mine. "I never liked these."

"Simon-"

"No," he interrupted as he pushed his chair back, standing to face me directly. "I'm sick and tired of these. Who said you needed to do this, Vince?"

I gulped. "I just thought...I thought it would help me say what I needed."

"A letter?" He shook the paper in his hand. "Why not to my face? Is it too much to ask for you to simply talk to me? To tell me what you wanted to say in these letters?"

"Simon," I breathed. You wouldn't understand, I wanted to say, but it seemed futile to argue.

"I don't need these," he fumed in a hushed tone, as he threw more draft letters and folders to the floor. "Not these, not those. I don't need them at all."

The stifling air stripped any pathetic excuses I could possibly muster as he continued to sweep the remaining papers to the floor, a few flying in the air before drifting to the floor.

"What I need," he started, before he leaned against the edge of the desk. His knee was just a hair from grazing mine, as he cupped my face in his hands. He let out a soft yet nervous breath as he tilted my head upwards to look at him. It was a warm look, one that entranced me as his brown eyes bored into mine. It felt like the same look he had given me when I kissed him earlier in this very room. Only with an intense, yet somehow gentle look. The corners of his lips rose as he stared down at me. "What I need is you, Vince."

A foreign sensation pooled in my chest, as the gravity of his words washed over me. The feeling of warmth I had felt earlier, from all those times I held his hand, and from that kiss came rushing back. The way his hands held my cheeks so delicately, in combination with that alluring gaze made my stomach quiver, a feeling of lightness and tingles had traversed from my stomach to every inch of my skin.

"Just you," he breathed out before he brushed his thumb across my cheek. It left a warm trail, one that I leaned into. As I nuzzled his hand, his other wrapped around, gently snaked its way through my hair. "All I need is you."

"You do?"

He chuckled, before brushing his pursed lips to the tip of my nose. "Why else would I be doing this?"

"Uh-" I stammered, my mouth floundering about as the feeling of his breath sent a shiver down my spine. He chuffed at my reaction before tilting my head down to place another kiss against my forehead. As he pulled away, I couldn't help but notice the way his chest heaved, the audible breaths that escaped past his lips. And I dared to look up at those warm eyes, it was like the light had flashed perfectly between the curtains, illuminating the flecks of lighter brown. As we stared at each other, his eyes softened and turned almost into a pleading look, one desperate, hungry for more.

The corner of his lip turned as he tilted his head ever so slightly, the hand on my cheek guiding my chin to meet his face, and his lips latched onto mine. Ever so gently the hand in my hair curled, a blissful feeling ran down my stomach, a feeling I hadn't felt in a while. One that had fired a match under my wolf, rousing and coaxing my wolf to the surface.

"W-wait," I sputtered, placing my palm against his chest ever so gently. Beneath my palm, his heart wracked against his chest, or maybe it had been that silent that it made it possible to hear it.

"What is it?" He stopped, his lips hovered above mine. The way his short breaths felt on my skin felt like a crime in itself. But I needed to know. Needed to tell him the things that plagued my mind.

I looked up at him, his eyes were half-closed, still in the daze of our intoxicating embrace. Our scents mingling in a way that my fears were slowly falling apart at the seams. But that the thought of my wolf taking control was sobering. My wolf was getting exceedingly impatient and I was certain that my eye color was flickering.

"Vince?" He breathed against my lips, his eyes trailing from my lips up to my eyes. "What is it?"

That strange feeling was resurfacing as we stared at each other. My mind was a spiraling mess as his hands continued to trail along my skin. In a breathy and dazed state, I managed to stutter, "w-we shouldn't...shouldn't-"

"Why not?"

"I-" I gulped, the bond and wandering hands making it incredibly difficult to concentrate. "I am...scared. Worried."

He retracted his hands from around my back and placed them gently back on my cheeks. His thumb caressed the tender skin beneath my eye, and I felt like putty, the warmth and soothing feelings making me lose my mind. "About what?"

There were a lot of things that flashed in my mind. From the things I've done, to what he had gone through. From the things he's dealt with since his return, and even Michael's death. The fears of it all, from even back then loomed over all the things that I did want. He said this was what he needed, what he wanted, but what if it wasn't what he really needed at all?

If I were to let go, to allow this burning desire to grow and propel me further, to allow me to be selfish, would he feel trapped? Would he eventually realize that I couldn't possibly give him all that he truly deserved? I couldn't bear the thought of him living a life trapped and obliged to stay here if it would never make him happy.

"Are you sure?" My voice faltered, and I shut my eyes, afraid to face those eyes of his, that had often looked straight through me and read me like an open book. Yet so captivating that I wanted to fall, to pretend these worries and fears would ebb and cease to exist. "That this is.."

I trailed as I could feel his breath return to dance across my lips. As I fluttered my eyes open, the temptation was too strong to resist. Our eyes met, and I could feel my resolve slipping. My lip quivered as his hands cupped my head. He leaned forward, and whispered against my lips, "I've never been more sure of anything."

And he kissed me again as if his life depended on it. The sense of passion within desperation, and it just felt right. Like something we had deprived ourselves for years, and we had.

It was slow, gentle, and everything I had needed at first. Reassuring, soothing. One I had never experienced before, not at this caliber. It was different from the times before. His lips molded into mine, carefully but steadily finding a rhythm with my own, as his hands traveled down my neck, exploring my chest as his lips pressed further into mine. Drunk on the scent, on the high of oxytocin or the feel of the bond alone, I leaned forward, my mind far too hazy to reel in the wanton desire to let all the inhibitions fall to our feet.

I pressed my lips into his, my hands ventured from his face down to his waist, as I shifted to the edge of the seat. We pulled apart for a moment, our breaths labored as I stared up at him, as that same electric and liberating feeling we had from last time ran through us. Our eyes lingered for a moment more, before our lips collided again, the exhilarating feeling propelling us further into each other. My hands traveled to his lower back, pulling him closer.

His lips parted, and it was like everything had ceased to exist. From the crumpled letters to the doubts I had earlier. All had fallen to oblivion. All that remained was us, hungry for the fervent intimacy that I had robbed us of for years. We clung to each other, pulling us close as if it wasn't enough. And it wasn't.

We parted for a second to glance up at each other, a silent exchange of understanding, as we let out a short laugh.

And I think we both realized at that moment just how much we wanted this. How much I wanted this.

In another wave of desire, he wrapped his arms around my neck, as I let out another breathless laugh. He gave me a chaste kiss on the forehead before he tilted his head and bared his neck to me. His hands beckoned me closer, as his scent seemed to intensify. Curling my fingers into his back, I breathed him in, kissing and mouthing at his neck till all I knew and felt was him in my arms.

But as we kept at it, his hands drifting to my back, exploring the places that sent my mind whirling, there was one elephant in the room I couldn't ignore, no matter how much I wanted to let go, to give myself up to him like that. The fear that had been embedded in my mind even as a child, of my wolf, who had always gotten us into trouble. I could feel his pull, feel his desire to take over, his instincts overriding all sense of reason.

"Simon," I breathed against his neck, the magnetic pull of his scent making it damn near impossible to quell my wolf's desire to take control. His lips trailed down my neck, peppering the feverish skin with tantalizing kisses. With all the remaining willpower I pulled away, placing a hand on his cheek to look at me. "W-wait, stop."

He took hold of my trembling hand on his cheek. "You alright? W-what's wrong?"

"My wolf," I answered as I tried getting my bearings. "I don't think I can control him."

He moved one of his hands to the back of my neck, massaging the tender scalp in soothing patterns. "Then don't. You both want the same thing, no?"

"But-"

"Suppressing him further will only make it worse," he interrupted, his hands nearly distracting me from my concerns. "You know that."

"And if I can't control him?" I frowned, as my wolf whined, pawing at the surface. It wasn't that I believed my wolf would harm him, but there was a chance he wouldn't stop, and wouldn't be able to handle the primal urges till he saw fit. The images of his past resurfaced in the back of my mind. "If you want it to end and I can't stop him?"

"Vince," he ushered out delicately, his eyes softened.

I let out a shaky breath before softly saying, "I don't want to be like those men."

"He wouldn't hurt me," he replied unperturbed. "Just like how I know you wouldn't either."

"But I have," I said indignantly, reaching a shaky hand to his cheek. I could feel the goosebumps forming under my palms. "I have, and it's only a matter of time before I do something to hurt you again. I can't do that to you. I've hurt you too much for this to work. And if someone uses you to get to me, to hurt you, or the council, and-"

"Who cares what they think," he scoffed, taking one of his hands and interlocking them with one of mine. His other hand still placed sternly along my jaw, as he leaned his forehead against mine, our noses brushed against each other. "Or what anyone thinks for that matter. You said you wanted this, me by your side. Is that not what you meant?"

"I do. I do want this but-"

"Then mark me, Vince," he said firmly, his eyes flashed to his wolf's amber eyes, before returning to his dark brown ones. With his lips agape, and his exposed neck, my wolf was going haywire. It took everything in me to reign him in, to not give in. "Mark me."