Chasing Freedom

XIV

Back to Myles for this chapter.  Another 4000 words of angst. Enjoy!

Myles spiralled in the aftermath of the council meeting.

He hadn't seen Mira since she'd run out. He respected her and her boundaries. If she didn't want to see him, then that was the end of it. He understood her reasons for needing space. The updates he'd received from his mother were appreciated, none the less. Nothing detailed or invasive, but enough for him to know that Mira was safe.

Of course, under the care of his mother, there wasn't an alternative option.

The she was the one with Mira directly after was the best option of them all. Myles knew (near) every painstaking detail of how his mother's life had been prior to meeting his father. He knew the reason he didn't have any siblings or family beyond Kiva on that side. He knew why his mother had tattoos to cover the scars she could. She understood, first hand, Mira's trauma. She could be calm support in the face of it all being exposed by the council.

Unlike Myles.

He and his father had waited until they had confirmation the council had been escorted out of the estate. Then they had gone their separate ways. Myles had shifted, running until he passed out from exhaustion. When that hadn't been enough, he'd simply taken to abusing every inch of gym equipment he owned. His father had likely tracked down Leandro to spar until they were both bloody.

The day after, he was still towing threadlike control. He wanted nothing more than to track down he council—something that wouldn't be hard, seeing he knew where each pack member resided—and make them feel the fear and powerlessness Mira had. He wanted blood. He wanted them on their knees, begging Mira for forgiveness.

None of which he could do, not without directly going against his father. His Alpha, who allowed their heavily restricted existence out of respect to their kind's deep-rooted tradition. It wasn't enough for Myles. When he took over, they were out. Willingly or with force, if need be, he was exiling them all. They'd outlived their relevance.

Their words bounced in his mind like a fuse that refused to douse. Ownership. Understand her place. Expectations. Like Mira wasn't a person with the right to free will; there to cater to his whims and bear his young.

Soon enough, the bag he was hitting would snap. No doubt his hands were bruising, wrapped or not. He'd stripped off his shirt long ago after sweating enough through the material that it became irritating—

He stopped mid-punch when he heard the crunch of tyres in the snow from outside. An engine turned off, two doors opening.

His mother's voice he heard first, her tone soft. "This is it, honey. Are you sure you're up for this? Chris and I meant what we said. You're under no obligations to stay here. If the Council take issue with it, then we'll sort them out."

The reply, equally as soft, was Mira's. "I don't want to cause trouble for Myles."

"Okay, honey. Just know you can change your mind at any time."

That there wasn't more of an argument from his mother surprised Myles. He'd hedge his best it wasn't the first time for the conversation, however. Mira had a stubborn streak as bad as the rest of them.

"Do we wait for Myles to invite us in?"

His mother laughed. A fond sound. "Into my own son's home? He knows better than that, Mira."

Myles unwrapped his hands. He flexed them to get rid of the kinks, shaking his head with a grin. She was only half serious. If he wasn't home, or it was an unexpected visit, she'd call to check in, in case he was busy.