Blueberry Scones (MxM)

Chapter 8 - Trouble Comes A-Knocking

Joshua

"You left without telling him?" Mark asked me in disbelief, giving an exasperated look.

"Oh come on, how could I tell him? He's heartbroken right now. I didn't want to drop the bomb and make him even more upset," I defended with a sigh, letting my head drop into my hands.

Mark sighed, taking a sip of his drink. We'd decided to head out for one more night before we had to leave. Tomorrow morning, we would be packing up and making our way back to our pack. Peering into my drink, I let out a sigh of my own. He was right, of course. I should've told Wren that I was his mate. That would've meant I could stay longer and figure something out with him. Instead, I was going home knowing my mate is here, completely oblivious. It stung quite a bit. In fact, I began to rub at my chest a bit at the thought of leaving Wren like this. But what else could I do? I didn't want to bring his world crashing down on top of him.

"Joshua, you know I love you, man, but you have to tell him before we leave. If I have to make it an official order I will," Mark threatened.

I shook my head, not wanting him to force me with an alpha command. Deep down, I knew he had my best interests at heart as my best friend, but he didn't understand. Wren deserved more than a half-baked explanation as to why I never told him we were mates and waited until then to say something. He deserved to be swept off his feet.

My frustration continued to boil in my chest as I threw my drink back, letting the alcohol burn a slow path down to my stomach. Maybe it could distract me from the ever-growing pain in my chest. "You don't have to force me, Mark. I'll try to tell him I swear," I answered him, my eyes focused up at the ceiling.

When I looked back at him, he gave me a smile and a pat on the back. "Let's relax for now. No need to get worked up just yet."

We drank for a few hours as the pain in my chest slowly became numb. After paying, Mark and I both supported each other as we stumbled to the packhouse. The night air clung to our skin as we trudged along, but all I felt was the dull buzz that spread throughout my entire body.

"I wanna' see him so badly," I whined, my voice slurred slightly.

Somewhere in the back of my head, a voice chastised me for drinking so much. I could get into serious trouble for presenting myself like this, but I couldn't help it. It took specially-brewed alcohol for werewolves to get properly drunk because of our naturally higher metabolisms and I definitely had enough to do the trick. My thoughts faded in and out, jumbled about as I tried to keep up with Mark.

Mark laughed, shoving me lightly. "You could've been with him right now but you chickened out," he said with a lazy grin.

"Shut up! I know," I replied, letting my head drop.

He didn't have to rub it in my face. I knew I messed up so I didn't need Mark to remind every moment he could. Just the thought of what could've happened cut through my buzz and the aching in my chest flared up again. If I had told Wren, what would he have done? Would he have accepted it? Accepted me? Would he have rejected me right then and there? It already felt like he rejected me. He rejected the idea of a fated mate, so that meant he was indirectly rejecting me right?

The realization of that stopped me in my tracks. He told me he'd given up, told me he didn't think he'd ever get a fated mate. And did he seem to really care? The tightening in my chest told me no, he didn't care about that. My hand flew up to press against my chest, right where I'd been feeling that constant pain for so long. How had I not noticed it had been growing worse, how hard it had suddenly become to breathe properly?