The Alpha's Little Slave

Chapter 175: Milo

"Magic?" I whispered back. It didn’t seem so far-fetched, since Blaise and Damon also had magical abilities. Maybe Hornstead’s grounds were infused with magic to keep intruders away.

After all that I’ve experienced so far in my life, it wouldn’t be the strangest thing I witnessed in my lifetime. Not even close.

"See? That’s why you should trust me. If you didn’t, we’d be driving in circles for miles," Elder Olive said nonchalantly, completely at ease with the strangeness of what happened.

He patted Darach’s cheek as though he was a mere boy.

"You did well, now let me get out and stretch my old legs. I want to see my family."

We followed suit after him, because what else could we do? Elder Olive seemed like an eccentric old man, but he was the only guide we had to this place.

In front of the huddle of houses, there was a wooden sign that said ’Hornstead Welcomes You Home’. The words looked like they were carved by a shaky hand, and there was a child’s drawing of apples done with crayon at the side.

I couldn’t help but smile, already liking this place a lot more than the imposing grandeur of Thunderstrike.

"Burke! Cassidy! I’m here!" Elder Olive declared in a surprisingly loud voice as he strolled up to the biggest house and thumped on their door. I guess he wasn’t lying about having family here after all!

However, Darach’s face paled.

"Burke... Cassidy... don’t tell me..." His mouth fell open as we watched Elder Olive demand to be let in, crankily yelling at his family for letting him wait on his front porch.

"Don’t tell you what? Come on, spit it out," Blaise prompted.

"I think... I think we may have just met the past patriarch of Hornstead," Darach said weakly. He pointed to Elder Olive’s back. "This man... this man is the father of Hornstead’s Alpha!"

"What?" Blaise and I exclaimed in shock.

As if the universe wanted to punctuate his point, the door finally opened to reveal a young man around Darach’s age.

"Grandpa, why didn’t you tell me beforehand you were visiting?" the man asked, shaking his head. He had a mop of soft blond hair, and his eyes were greener than the lush grass that surrounded us. In his hand was a basket of red apples.

I had the strangest feeling that I was looking at a puppy, or at the human embodiment of sunshine. He didn’t seem real.

"I could have picked you up," the man continued with a frown. "You’re not as young as you used to be."

"Nonsense, sweetheart, you’re busy with your duties, aren’t you? You can’t drop everything to visit an old man like me as and when you feel like it. Besides, I made it here just fine! Now where are your ungrateful parents?! Did they leave you to look after the house again?"

I couldn’t recognize the man, but it seemed like Darach did, for his already pale face paled even further.

"I’m guessing this is the mate Dahlia rejected?" Blaise whispered into my ear.

"Dahlia must be insane to reject him," I whispered back. "Look at him! He’s gorgeous!" ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm

"Are you trying to make me jealous?" Blaise shook his head, but he was smiling. "But I agree."

"Milo," Darach breathed out. "Fuck."

The man called Milo seemed to finally realize there were three other people loitering behind his grandfather. He stared at me and Blaise with faint confusion, before finally registering Darach at the end. Suddenly the sunshine was gone, and replacing it was a morose cloud.

"Darach?" he asked disbelievingly. "Did Thunderstrike finally kick you out? You would never be here otherwise."

"No they didn’t, but it’s not for a lack of trying," Darach muttered, shaking his head. "Never mind that, are your parents here? We have something very urgent to speak to them about."

"They’ll be back soon after they check on the harvest," Milo said, sensing the gravity in Darach’s voice. "You might as well come in and wait in the meantime. I baked apple pies; feel free to have some."

"Food!" Blaise beamed delightedly, "Excellent, you are my new favorite person as of this moment. Sorry, Elder Olive. Sorry, Harper."

"I lost to a pastry..." I shook my head, amused.

"And here I thought you appreciated my snoring," Elder Olive grumbled, but there was no heat behind it.

All of us entered the house, but Darach and I lingered at the doorway. I needed to ask him something.

"You know each other?" I asked Darach, eyeing the broad muscles of Milo’s back as he gestured for Blaise and his grandfather to sit and take a piece of his freshly baked pie.

"Hard not to when you’re stuck trying to clean up your sister’s messes," Darach said with a sigh, pushing up his glasses. "How can Damon be compared to him? Sometimes, I think my sister is the one who has poor eyesight."

"Agreed." We exchanged a glance and then joined the rest of them at the dining table.

The home was filled with the delectable scent of fresh apples and warm bread, and my stomach growled hungrily in response. In no time at all, the pie was cleared, and Blaise looked forlornly at the empty baking tray. He had gone for six helpings and was so close to licking the crumbs clean.

"Now that we’re all fed, do you mind letting me know what’s going on?" Milo asked, sitting across us from the table with his hands clasped together. Suddenly, he was less a genial baker and more authoritative, like someone who was raised to be Hornstead’s heir.

"There’s no way around this, but we’re here on behalf of Fangborne. We need Hornstead’s help," Blaise said earnestly.

"Fangborne? You’re far from home," Milo frowned. Hopefully, he was frowning because he was confused, and not because he remembered Fangborne was the pack Damon came from, the pack that his fated mate eagerly wanted to join over his own.

"What could Hornstead possibly offer you to make your way down here?" he asked, perplexed.

"Food," I said simply. "We need food, and you’re the only pack we can ask from."