[unedited] [finished]
Harry was told what was expected from him. He was betrothed to the heir of the Tomlinson pack even before he was born. Surrounded and raised by biddable omegas, whose only purpose in life was to serve their alphas, he became on...
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Thanks to my lovely wife (wink wink) for being generous enough to draw an amazing art piece for the chapter (or fic?)
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***
A soft sigh left his lips, bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he scrutinized the boy sleeping in front of him. He supposed Harry's relaxed features did act as an attestation to his assumption of the boy sleeping. Nodding to himself, the blue-eyed alpha shuffled to the edge of the bed, socked feet touching the carpeted floor with a soft thud. Standing up, he reached towards the bedside table to collect the half-finished pack of cigarettes he had placed on the table earlier today.
With one quick glance towards the sleeping form of the omega, he slipped away from the room after closing the door behind him. He contemplated where else he could go tonight; laying on the bonnet of his car would only further amplify the mild back pain he had been experiencing throughout the whole day— a reward for sleeping away the night on the bonnet of his car yesterday. He figured he could visit the pack gardens, after hearing loads of things about how beautiful and breathtaking it was, a little visit would hurt no one.
With steps as light as a bird's feather, he passed the hallway and descended the carpeted stairs. Once outside the house, he looked up at the sky, full of twinkling stars. Stuffing his hands deep inside the pockets of his trousers, he jumped down the three porch steps. His eyes surveyed the vast front lawn, skimming through the five paths (one of which led to the exit). The paths originated from the different sides of the fountain's tub, trails matted with grass in between bushes of different flowers. He considered his options before he set off on the trail that was left and closer to the house (partially because he was feeling lethargic to walk all the way to the right-hand side when he was standing closer to the left-hand side, and partially because he felt like it).
The night was chilly, gusts of wind nipping at his bare arms and legs. Huffing, he continued walking, muttering profanities underneath his breath as the cold got more and more intolerable. He stilled, placing his hands on his hips as his eyes skimmed around his surroundings, he was in the middle of some sort of glade, he supposed. There were no bushes poking at the sides of his legs, just an open space with neatly trimmed grass. Looking ahead, he noticed there were small bushes lined in a straight line, separating the glade from whatever there was on the other side.
He rolled his eyes, stomping towards the bushes and jumping past them, a yelp of pain leaving his mouth when one of the spikes of the prickly bush prodded at his right calf. Once on the other side, he crouched down to assess the situation, wincing when he noticed the tiny tip of what looked like a thorn that had torn through the material of his trousers. Shrugging it off, he stood up as he scratched the back of his neck, trying to find a place where he could sit properly and have a smoke.
