❝ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ᴡᴇʀᴇᴡᴏʟꜰ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀɪᴇꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴜꜱᴜᴀʟʟʏ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴀɴ ᴀʟᴘʜᴀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴍᴇɢᴀ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ ᴡᴀꜱɴ'ᴛ?❞
For generations, the Blood Moon Pack and Grave Shadow Pack have been at war, the werewolves from each side bearing high tensions and malicious in...
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They leave for Blood Moon this weekend. About fucking time too. In the past two days that Cyrus has been here, it's been so boring.
Jax is boring. Grave Shadow is boring. Everything is boring.
(Except for Zeke. He may not talk much, but he's still cool.)
In Grave Shadow, they have a routine. They wake up, they eat, they work, they sleep. Rinse and repeat. Even the local pups are too focused on their duties, whether it be through their studies or their training. None of them are out playing tag or fetch. What gives?
It's why Cyrus insisted on finally visiting the one place that's not boring before their departure: the greenhouse. Because somewhere in this cold and lonely shithole, there's a place that's actually decent. Grave Shadow has a greenhouse in its premise and Jax refuses visitation out of spite against him. Or at least, that's what Cyrus can chalk it up to anyways: pure spite.
Why else would Jax remain so adamant on avoiding his own greenhouse otherwise?
Earlier in the morning, Cyrus had even stuck his tongue out and retorted with, "If you can't even give me a real bed to sleep on, then at least hand me some damn flowers to smell. It'll help deceive me into thinking that I'm not stuck in some never-ending nightmare."
So now, much to his giddy excitement, here they are.
"I'm not doing this because you asked." Jax sucks in a sharp breath from his vape, then lets out a huff of minty air that lingers. "I'm doing this because I actually have real business to tend to. The betas here consult me on their findings and finances."
"Sure, sure." As he slings an arm around Jax's neck and pulls him closer, Cyrus leans over his broad shoulder, craning his head forward. Then, his lips meet the vape clutched in the other alpha's hand, eager to steal a puff. Without an ounce of shame, he mimics the way that he had blown his smoke earlier, replicating a sharp breath of his own and watching as the white vapor that floats from his mouth fades out into nothingness. "Go out there and be a big man."
Like usual, Jax jerks away with a scowl, his cheeks blooming red with embarrassment. "Get your own damn vape already."
The grin across Cyrus's face widens. Mint stings his teeth.
"Don't talk to anyone who works here while I'm away either," Jax suddenly warns, a blunt edge to his words. "Not a single person." He stabs a finger into his chest, pushing hard enough to almost make him budge. "Don't."
Cyrus's smile withers away. "Whatever, Grace is around anyway. I've been meaning to catch up with her." Seriously, he doesn't understand Jax's persistence in keeping away from these greenhouse employees, but he figures it's just another way for him to be petty. "We can't be more than, what, ten feet apart from each other, remember? I wouldn't be too worried when I can't even go anywhere that far."
