DEDICATION: If_Tears_Left_Scars

[08]: "More Than One?"| Part II

A while later, all of us had moved to the basement as the music here was much lower and people were a lot less inebriated. I'd made sure to arrange plenty of couches put together in circles along the walls of the huge space, so that people could sit around and talk if they wanted to.

Thanks to my thoughtfulness, that was exactly what we were doing. Goodbye, alone-time with Nyah and Theon.

The drinks had been flowing endlessly for the past hour, but I'd refrained from indulging too much. I was holding onto the hope that there would be a lull in the conversation sometime soon and I'd be able to excuse myself and take my mates with me, because I really needed to have a chat with them.

Like ASAP.

Nyah and Theon hadn't more than two or three drinks either, and considering our wolf metabolism, I'd safely assume they were both as stone-cold sober as me.

Maybe they had felt something was about to happen too . . .

Tatum's raised voice reached my ears and pulled me out of my thoughts. Nyah, who was sandwiched between Theon and me on the couch, occasionally participated in the conversations, while I had just stuck to silence and nodding and grinning at the right places. My need to get my mates alone was distracting me from enjoying what was actually going on around me, and I didn't care much for the who-was-doing-what topic they were mostly chatting about.

I followed the direction of the louder voices and turned my head to the side, seeing that Micajah was having a serious whisper-conversation with Tatum.

Curiosity forced me to concentrate just a little. The few phrases and words I caught in-between let me know that they were discussing our biological mother, Victoria, who had gone batshit crazy after my stupid Beta of a Dad had rejected her and taken me back to the Mordecai pack. The reason for his rejection was a long list of bullshit that I didn't want to get into. But apparently, the main one had been the fact that the two packs had been at war at the time, and that people had been forbidden from interacting with each other.

Even mates.

It looked like Micajah was telling Tatum about it to let her know how proud he was of her for not losing her sanity as the egg-donor had after losing her mate and had abused him physically for most of his life by beating him up and treating him with zero love and respect.

I saw Tatum's face cloud with emotion—a tinge of bittersweet happiness and sorrow for Micajah, and felt happy that my brother was thoughtful enough to tell her all that, because it wouldn't have occurred to me in a million years to say something that nice and sweet to cheer her up.

And it had taken a guy like him and Seneca long enough to get over themselves and love each other.

Despite myself, it made me wonder how long it would take before I reached someplace happy with my mates.

Or if would ever make it.

That doubtful thought was not happiness-inducing.

"This is Alpha Marcus Blythe." Alarice's mate introduced some guy, bringing me back to reality yet again. I sluggishly glanced up to see a familiar-looking man standing by the end of the other couch, smiling down at us all, "He used to go to school with me. Marcus, this is . . ." Anders went on, introducing everyone present along with their titles as was custom, and gestured for the man to take a seat. I sat up a little straighter and nodded in hello when his eyes passed me, but Angier, who was a bit distracted, failed to notice his presence as he seemed to be craning his neck and fervently looking around in search of something.

Alpha Marcus Blythe ignored the guy's lack of response and went on with his greetings. Before I could kick Angier's foot to get his attention, Tatum elbowed her best friend, making him jump in the air and interrupt Marcus with all the suaveness of a bull in a china shop. "Oh yeah! Nice to meet you, Alpha Blythe!"

I resisted the urge to face-palm, and from the look on Tatum's face, so did she before she spoke, "You'll have to excuse him. He's a bit drunk."

"Nah, it's fine," Marcus said, throwing Angier a mocking grin, "Not everyone can hold their liquor like us with the Alpha blood."

Strike one.

My blood boiled at his careless insult. I had to take deep breaths and count in reverse to stop myself from lashing out. Under any other circumstances, I would've decked the asshole for sure, consequences be damned. But we were here at my party in front of hundreds of guests, and if not for the unwanted side-effect of any violence or public humiliation resulting in a probable war between our packs, I'd have carried through with the gory mental image taking form in my head. Nyah almost bolted out of her seat beside me, but I grabbed ahold of her elbow, my fingers digging into her skin as I forced her to try and rethink her move.

An awkward silence befell the group. Seneca and Micajah kept glancing at me to make sure I wouldn't do anything stupid, while Marcus expectantly looked around at the other Alphas, leaving them with no choice but to maintain a polite silence.

A glance at Tatum confirmed that she was pissed-off beyond belief at the rude Alpha as well. At that moment, a glimpse of a memory resurfaced, an image of Tatum defending Angier when we had been kids, at a particularly swanky party where a pompous Alpha-kid had asked why Angier had come there if he wasn't a high-ranked wolf. Looked like after all these years, the one thing that hadn't changed was their iron-clad bond.

"Excuse me, but he's gonna—" She started to say and I almost considered tackling her down to keep her mouth shut, but thankfully, she was interrupted mid-sentence by a high, feminine cry, "Brother, there you are!"

I really would've enjoyed witnessing Tatum give Marcus a piece of her mind and wouldn't have minded stepping in to throw a kick or two at his balls, but one asshole-ish comment wasn't worth it. My wolf failed to see the logic behind the reasoning and still insisted that the Alpha needed to be taught a lesson, but being a Beta didn't mean just throwing around your weight and showing off your high rank. It came with responsibilities such as this, where you had to bite your tongue and refrain from shoving your fist into someone's face.

'He needs more than just a fist.' My wolf growled lowly, his tone menacing.

All of us turned to the direction of the newcomer, a petite blond girl with big blue eyes and an air of an animated character who'd come to life. She grinned widely, flashing her pearly whites at everyone, "Oh! Hi, Alphas, Alephs. I'm Francesca Blythe."

Ah, another one of those pompous second-born Alpha kids. Explained how she had so casually dismissed the Beta and the two normal wolves present.

Everyone mumbled their hellos, so I joined in half-heartedly, noting Nyah fake a smile from the corner of my eye. Theon sneered slightly and ignored the girl for the most part.

Good for him.

A low growl from Angier captured my interest. I spun around, watching in fascination as his blue eyes flashed a bright gold, and just as I put two and two together and glanced at Francesca, I realized that her wide, surprised eyes were no longer the blue they had been, instead having turned into a dark brown.

"Mine," Angier claimed with another growl, making his mate purr in response. Everyone gasped in surprise and happiness, but all I could think about was the fact that my mating should've been just as simple and joyful. That it shouldn't have been so freaking complicated with me and Theon barking at each other for no reason.

So what if the Goddess had given me two mates?

I was a motherfucking adult for heaven's sake. I didn't have to be so immature about the whole thing.

Marcus got to his feet and touched his sister's shoulder in congratulations, pulling the shocked girl out of her reverie. Her eyes shifted back to its normal blue and she nodded in response to her brother, not tearing her eyes off her man, "Wow . . . I'm quite surprised. I definitely didn't expect that."

"So am I," Angier stood up as well, rising to his full height to tower over his mate, the biggest grin I'd ever seen him wear taking over his face. "I'm Angier Wellington, Francesca Blythe."

The returning smile she gave him was just as blinding.

"Would you, maybe, prefer to go outside for some air?" Angier questioned hopefully, to which Francesca responded with an eager nod, grabbing his proffered arm. He stepped out of our circle of couches, leading the way happily for his mate, and I followed their retreating backs with my eyes as the two of them disappeared in the direction of the stairs to the ground level.

Once they were out of earshot, everyone bursted into an awe-filled conversation, ooh-ing and ahh-ing about how beautiful it had been to watch people find their other half. No matter how much I tried, I couldn't muster up the same happiness or the thrill to join in on the chatter.

Because my brain was stuck on one thing.

On how Francesca seemed to have been utterly swept off her feet at the moment she'd laid eyes on her soulmate.

While my mates, on the other hand, had been struggling to even have a proper conversation—heck, I realised I hadn't introduced Theon with the name of his pack because I, his fucking soulmate, didn't have a single clue which one he belonged to—because our egos were too big to prevent us from even trying properly.

"Excuse me, I think I drank too much," Tatum muttered in a choked voice as she shot to her feet all of a sudden, slamming her bottle of beer almost blindly onto the coffee table before she rushed out of the place. As I regarded her pain-filled eyes and heart-broken expression, I speculated just how much of the bond between her and her best friend consisted of platonic love.

She stumbled out quickly and left the area. My heart squeezed painfully in my chest, aching for the unfairness of it all.

For the fact that there was an Alpha who was destined to be alone.

For a guy who was absolutely clueless about the feelings, his best friend seemed to harbour for him.

For Nyah, who was no doubt feeling confused as hell as to how she was to manage a perfect balance between two mates who refused to cooperate with each other in the slightest.

For Theon, who was perfectly capable of arguing with me for hours but hadn't opened his mouth all evening due to the invisible line that somehow kept dividing our worlds.

And for me, because no matter what I tried to do, I managed to upset my mates and make things worse.

At that moment, I vowed to myself that I was going to do my best to turn this situation around. I was going to be 'Ezra: The Best Mate In The Planet'.

I glanced to the side and found Nyah still animatedly talking to Seneca about the Angier-Francesca pairing, while Theon slumped against the couch with a downcast expression. He must've felt my gaze or something, because he glanced up, his cautious green eyes colliding with mine.

And so I grinned, not mockingly or falsely; a genuine smile showing him that I truly was happy to have him in my life along with Nyah.

Being nice and romantic was one way to start.

Question: Do you think Ezra will be winning "Mate Of the Year" any time soon? XD

Can he really be "nice and romantic"?

What did you think of the new characters introduced? Any thoughts? Suggestions for any jealousy, perhaps?

Thanks again for the wonderful support, y'all. 6200 words!!!!! LONGEST CHAPTER IN MY HISTORY!

Hope to receive more of your awesome love. Please don't forget to

VOTE, COMMENT, AND FOLLOW! :)

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