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Chapter Text

Vega lurked at the edge of the Kingdom of Dahlia’s borders. There was no real reason that Vega needed to keep himself scarce and hidden in the forestry areas. For years now, Dahlia had openly and warmly welcomed all d(a)emonkind to their lands, even sadism-demons such as Vega. Ever since Alpha Gabriel Shaw, a wolf-shifter of legendary stature, keen wisdom, and great kindness, had come into power, he had made it his mission to foster good relations amongst the two groups. Alpha Gabe kept his promises and managed to strengthen the nation’s reputation as a peaceful, prosperous place to live for unempowered, empowered, and d(a)emons alike.

Vega enjoyed neither peace nor prosperity.

He felt like he was the last sadism-demon who was true to his sadistic roots. All of the others who frequented Dahlia to feed had chosen to integrate themselves into society. They choose to feed on sadistic emotions with the intent to erase them from the human who felt those emotions.

That didn’t sit well with Vega.

No, he wanted an unlimited source of sustenance. He wanted to worm his way into one of those puny human’s hearts and set up shop for a very, very long time. It was a perfectly understandable desire, he’d rationalize to himself. Why should he have to search all across the land for sadistic tendencies and emotions or, even more detestable, to make use of the kingdom’s feeding stations that seemed so popular among the recently-coalesced crowd? D(a)emonkind didn't even have to hide anymore. Old or young and of any specialty, they were a welcomed part of society. To Vega's surprise, d(a)emonkind was all too happy to integrate with the humans.

Weak and silly little fools, Vega surmised. So eager to turn away from the conventions that his kind had practiced for centuries, all in the name of community and goodwill. The mere thought of d(a)emonkind mingling with humankind disgusted Vega.

Burning with resentment and starving for some food forged the old fashioned way, Vega was more than a little excited to have gotten word that only a week ago, Marie Greer, Head Royal Healer of Dahlia, had given birth to a son, whom she named Milo. Apparently, the little pup was the latest in the royal pack’s recent string of new additions. Although this shifter was born prematurely and quite small for his kind, the whole kingdom was rejoicing at the news that Milo had come into the world healthy and happy, especially each member of the Royal Shaw Pack.

It gave Vega the perfect idea to procure delicious meals for years to come. He would steal the baby and raise him as his own, ensuring that the boy would generate the exact type of energy Vega needed. The sadness and anger that would overtake every citizen of Dahlia would provide him with enough nourishment to last for decades. The Royal Shaw Pack was too noble ever to let one of their own’s kidnapping be forgotten. Their loyalty to each other would be their own undoing, much to Vega’s advantage.

Vega was nothing if not creative. Perhaps a demon with less forethought would’ve simply disposed of the child in the river or tossed the body in the woods, but Vega was much too smart for that. He wanted insurance. He wanted a guarantee that he’d always have a source of power in the form of food. Suddenly, Vega hatched a plan that would let him shed his status of ‘beggar’ and launch into the position of ‘chooser.’ It was his right as a sadism-demon, after all.

That night, Vega quietly entered the castle, dodged every wolf who was patrolling the perimeter, and stole baby Milo from his crib, who had been sleeping soundly after Marie had rocked away his fussiness for the last two hours. Vega unceremoniously shoved the baby into a satchel and made his exit. He whisked the boy away to the deepest part of the forest, constructed a tower with his magic, cloaked it in a strong ward. The tower was so deep in the forest and so expertly hidden that not even the Shaw Pack’s Royal Guards would be able to detect the tower.

Just as Vega removed Milo from the satchel, the baby began to stir. After a moment, Milo’s hushed coos erupted into full-blown cries.

It amazed Vega that even such a human so young and small as Milo could produce enough emotion to sustain a strong, aged demon such as himself. A swirl of tantalizing emotions hit Vega simultaneously: Exhaustion at being woken up from sleep so suddenly, fear at realizing his mother was not close by anymore, discomfort at the chill in the air, nervousness at the new sounds and smells of the forest…

Vega fed voraciously.

The next morning, the Royal Shaw Pack awoke to the agonized cries of a heartbroken Marie, searching and screaming for her lost child. The Kingdom of Dahlia awoke to the echoes of distressed wolf howls that belonged to the Royal Shaw Pack as Gabe formed a search party for his littlest pack member.

And Vega feasted.

Seasons changed.

Years came and went.

Decades passed.

And still, Milo Greer was nowhere to be found.

In a world simply saturated with magic, no one could locate the stolen child. Despite the tracking magic, reward offers, countless search operations, and even death threats to the unknown kidnapper, Milo remained missing. Marie remained utterly heartbroken. And the Royal Shaw Pack remained aware that at every pack meeting, party, and gathering, they were short one wolf.

But, still determined as ever, Dahlia never let the memory of Milo fade into the distance. Just as Vega had anticipated, the search for Milo was always open and the pack doggedly kept hope alive that somewhere, some way, Milo was alive and he’d eventually find his way back to his family. Even after Alpha Gabe’s untimely passing, his son, David, did his best to see his father’s legacies lived on in Dahlia, including the now-traditional ceremonies and searches intended to find Milo.

Despite her grief, Marie continued to serve as the Head Royal Healer. It was horribly ironic that she and the team of healers she had meticulously trained over the past few decades had eased so many injuries and illnesses all across the kingdom, and yet no one could heal her broken heart.

That sad fact weighed heavily on Alpha David’s mind. David had only been ruler of Dahlia for a few years, but he ached to ease the heavy burden that Marie had carried for far too long. To know that somewhere out there, one of his pack was alone and lost was almost too much for David to bear.

“David, you okay?” The sound of Beta Asher’s voice jolted David out of his grief-stricken thoughts. He turned to face his second-in-command and very best friend, noting the thin lines of worry that creased Asher’s face.

“I’m fine,” David answered stoically. “How did the meeting go?”

“Everything for the solstice party and the commemorative hunt is taken care of,” Asher dutifully confirmed. “The celebration is set to be bigger than ever this year. Our mates even commissioned a mural from some local empowered and d(a)emonic artists that's going to feature an array of Dahlian citizens from all walks of life.”

A half-smile tugged at the corner of David’s mouth when he imagined his energetic mate describing their ambitious vision to the artists. “Excellent,” David remarked half-heatedly, his eyes wandering to look out into the distance. “You know how much I love the solstice, Asher. It’s a time we come together to celebrate and to be with those we love,” he sighed, leaning an elbow on the railing. "Our kingdom's festival is renowned far and wide."

“But you can’t help but feel a little bit more sad during the solstice,” Asher intuited from David’s pensive body language. “Because Milo’s not here with us.” Asher clapped his hand on David’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “We all feel his absence, David. Especially this time of year. We’ll find him some day. You can’t give up hope.”

David’s nostrils flared as he gave Asher a quick nod. “Never,” he vehemently confirmed. "It's our responsibility to take care of the pack. That includes Milo. I just wish we could make some headway with locating him. The thought of a pack member out there somewhere, lost and alone.” David gestured to the vastness of the Dahlian Forests. “It’s unthinkable for a shifter.”

Asher shuddered at David’s poignant comment. “I know,” he agreed, stifling the tight feeling in his chest.

“It could’ve been anyone one of us that night,” David added in a lower register. “We were all born around the same time. You and I were still toddlers when Milo was born. It would’ve been just as easy for whoever took Milo to have taken one of us. We were just lucky, I suppose.” Guilt wrinkled across David’s countenance. “We owe it to Milo to make up for all the time he’s lost with his family.”

“And we owe it to Marie,” Asher declared, realizing that as brave a face as Marie always put on, he had never seen her truly and genuinely happy. A type of grief that even time couldn’t wash away lingered in her eyes. “She’s been so strong through it all. I don’t know how she does it.”

David’s hand gripped the railing tighter. “She shouldn’t have to,” he growled. “How many more solstices should they both have to suffer like that? We’re going to everything we can to make sure that Milo is back where he belongs,” David decreed in a voice he often reserved for his royal duties. “With his pack.”

Normally, when David said he was going to do something, there was no doubt in his or anyone else’s mind that he would do exactly as he aimed to do. This time, however, David couldn’t help but wonder if he could make good on that promise. No matter how powerful, clever, or strong Alpha David was, there were just some things he could not do. Try as he might, he couldn’t make Milo appear out of thin air. That fact unnerved David. He was supposed to be the leader of the land. He desperately needed a way to right this wrong. His family was depending on him.

“That's right we are.” Ever encouraging and fiercely optimistic, Asher took pride in his beta role. He strove to support his alpha in every way he could, whether that be to remind David to keep his hopes up or to stand by David’s side as he ruminated on the challenges that lay ahead of them. Today, Asher realized David needed him to do both. And so, the two men stood together, silently grieving for their lost pack-brother and more determined than ever to see him reunited with his family.

Chapter Text

Still half-asleep, Milo twisted his face deeper into his pillow to escape the incessant tapping sensation upon his cheek. His attempts at deflecting his wake up call only served to intensify the tapping, this time laced with claws.

“Mmmmmm, c’mon, Aggro,” Milo pouted, pushing up to sit so that the hungry cat could parade across Milo’s lap.

He wearily blinked away the remnants of sleep away from his eyes. Milo's dreams had always been strange, even as a child. Blurred faces, incomprehensible speech. There were always a bunch of different people vying for his attention. Completely unrecognizable and yet, not strangers. The clearest person in Milo's dreams was always the same woman. She reached out for him, sad and desperate, but he found when he tried to reach back to her, to ask what was wrong, to console her, something, anything, he never could make his fingers reach hers.

The dream never changed. Neither did the way it left Milo feeling unsettled. Rather than dwell on the woman's inscrutable face, he turned to Aggro. “You can’t let me sleep in just once?” Milo’s hand instinctively found Aggro’s chin and began rubbing. “It’s not like we got anywhere to go.”

Aggro’s purrs vibrated all along Milo’s chest and neck as he bumped and nuzzled his favorite human.

Milo yawned, stretching legs and rolling his ankles underneath the blanket he knitted himself last year. “Alright, alright, alright,” he grumbled, planting a quick kiss on Aggro’s forehead, prompting the cat to let out a chirp. “Let’s get you something to eat, hmm, buddy?”

Aggro leapt from the bed onto the ground to encourage Milo to follow him. As soon as Milo tossed the covers aside and got to his feet, Aggro wrapped himself around Milo’s legs as the two pals made their way into the kitchen and over to Aggro’s empty food dish.

“Lead the way,” Milo beckoned, rolling his neck from side to side. He opened the cupboard and snatched two cans out of him. “What’ll it be today, Aggro? Salmon or chicken?” He held a can in each hand, bending down to show them to Aggro.

Aggro pawed at the can in Milo’s right hand.

“Salmon it is,” Milo confirmed. “Excellent choice.”

The morning routine was something both Milo and Aggro were intimately familiar with, mostly because it never varied. Every day for as long as he could remember, Milo awoke to Aggro smacking his face with his paws and scratching at the bed with his claws. The young man would get up, give Aggro breakfast, and then fix his own. The same breakfast everyday.

Two poached eggs. Two slices of dry, wheat toast. A mug of strong, black coffee. And a glass of water.

After cleaning up from breakfast, Milo would move on to fill his day with a variety of activities that he learned to use as pastimes. He’d lift weights. He’d knit. He’d make every possible recipe he could find in the cook book. He'd complete 1000 piece jigsaw puzzles. He’d play games with Aggro. He’d practice his trumpet. He’d read novels. He’d write poetry. He’d scrub the floors. He’d sculpt vases. He’d rearrange his bookshelf for the zillionth time. He’d sketch pictures of the birds that would sit upon his windowsill, until Aggro’s yowling scared them away.

Sometimes, Milo was jealous of the birds that had the freedom to fly away. Try as he might to do as his father instructed and keep himself occupied within the confines of the tower’s walls, Milo was feeling restless, even more so than normal. He wanted to spend a day outside. To run across an open, grassy field. To stroll along the village square, waving to anyone else he might encounter. To run into the forest and hunt anything he could find. To live one day out there.

And not in here. Alone.

With a deep sigh, Milo planted himself next to the large window that looked out into the forests of Dahlia. Just at the edge of the horizon, Milo could see the cityscape of the town, probably bustling with activity and drama like he had read about in the books he’d devoured time and time again. He wondered what it would be like to join the townspeople in the annual solstice celebration, which everyone was no doubt preparing for.

Aggro padded his way over to Milo, his claws tip-tapping against the wooden floor. The gray cat eyed Milo’s lap and, after wiggling his behind to gather momentum, he perched himself on his human’s knee.

“What do you think, Aggro?” Milo gestured to the vast field below. “What would you say to a little vacation from our trusty tower?”

Aggro placed his front paws up on the window sill to peek out at the view.

Milo scratched behind Aggro’s ear. “You think Dad will let me leave?”

At the mention of Milo’s father, Aggro flicked his tail and let out a mini-growl.

“Hmm,” Milo considered. “I guess if history is any indication, it’s a big, fat ‘no.’ But, I’m a grown man now. Much more responsible than I was last year, right?” Milo patted Aggro’s forehead. “Right!” he confirmed. “And it’s the solstice after all. I know Dad’s not one for celebrating, especially a human holiday like that, but all the stories I’ve read that have included solstice celebrations sound like so much fun. Good food, games, decorations, and…” Milo’s wide smile waned. “And big family get-togethers.” His shoulder dropped. “Well, three outta four ain’t bad,” Milo winked. “I think I’m going to ask Dad when he gets back from his trip. Just sit down with him and have a direct conversation. Man to man. How can he say ‘no’ when I talk to him like the mature, thoughtful adult I am?”

Aggro began to knead at Milo's thighs, purring loudly and curling into a ball for a mid-morning nap.

Just then, a rift opened up into the room and a demon spontaneously appeared. Even with how many times that scene had played out, Milo still couldn't stop himself from flinching at the sudden rift.

“Hi, Dad!” Milo greeted warmly. He opened his arms for a hug. “How was your trip? I missed you!”

“Hello, Milo!” Vega grinned. He patted Milo on the head and in doing so, kept a long arm’s length distance from the young man. “Oh, the trip into town was uneventful as usual. I’m so glad to come here and see you waiting for me, though.” The sadism demon stood tall and imposing, a shiny glint reflecting off of his teeth. He took stock of the tower, eyes darting around the room as he inspected each and every inch. “This tower looks spotless! How you manage to clean everything every day without fail… You must be absolutely exhausted!”

When Milo realized that Vega wouldn’t be taking up his offer for a hug, he quickly grabbed his right wrist in his left and shrugged shyly as a small smile spread across his lips. “Gee, thanks,” Milo answered, heart practically bursting with pride at Vega meager praise. “It’s nothing really. I‒”

“If it's nothing, then I don’t know why on Earth it takes you so long,” Vega chortled, tapping Milo on the nose.

Milo scratched the back of his neck, all feelings of satisfaction suddenly replaced by those of insecurity and embarrassment. “Umm, I…” Milo stuttered.

With a wicked smile, Vega fed heartily.

After all, what were insecurity, self-consciousness, and self-doubt, if not all forms of self-directed sadism?

Savoring the rush of energy that Milo’s feelings provided him, Vega removed his brown trench coat and shoved it into Milo’s arms. “Be a darling and put this away for me, will you?”

“Yeah, sure, of course.” Milo hurried off to do as his father asked, determined to do at least something right.

Aggro hopped over to Vega in a stiff crabwalk. He puffed out his fur and flattened his ears against his head all while arching his back. The cat spit out his most menacing hiss before snatching Vega's ankle in his claws.

"Mhmm, yes, hello to you, too, Aggro," Vega grimaced, shaking his foot to rid himself of the gnawing creature hanging off of his human-form skin. “Mangy little beast,” he whispered when Milo was out of earshot. “You’re lucky I don’t toss you out that window and see if you don’t land on your feet.”

When Aggro had crossed paths with Vega years ago as a kitten, he was a skinny, ornery little ball of fuzz who looked and acted positively feral. On a whim, Vega had scooped up the kitten and brought him home to Milo, presuming the cat would want nothing to do with then-adolescent Milo. The demon cared little to learn much about human-culture, but he was under the impression that cats, especially cats living on the street, were supposed to be aloof, if not outright aggressive. Vega thought that by bringing home a kitten that he would claim could be Milo’s pet, only for the kitten to display aggression towards Milo and eventually flee the tower, would send Milo into a spiral of negative emotions that could’ve kept Vega full for weeks on end.

Vega was floored when the kitten fell in love with Milo on sight. When he saw that Milo was happier than Vega had ever seen before, Vega could’ve kicked himself. He certainly couldn’t take the kitten away from Milo when it was clear the only place the kitten wanted to be was perched on Milo’s shoulder. If he did, Vega would risk the elaborate charade of the loving father he had managed to manipulate Milo into believing. Once Milo named the kitten, Vega had no choice but to accept defeat and get used to the fact that their tower was now part of Aggro’s territory.

Milo may have been fully convinced that Vega had his best interests in mind, and not a sadistic, abusive slant to his every move, but Aggro seemed to recognize the evil that resided in Vega. The gray cat (save for his white chest and one front right paw) couldn’t tell Milo about the suspicions he harbored about Vega’s intentions, so instead, he did his best to comfort Milo when he sensed the young human was upset or anxious or deeply lonely. Aggro did his job frequently and skillfully.

Also, he liked to bite and claw Vega any chance he got.

Vega kicked one of Aggro's jingly balls across the room, lodging it under the couch. "Oops," he taunted.

With one last hiss at Vega, Aggro trotted away into one of his many baskets in the corner of the room, ready for a nap as he’d wait patiently for Milo to come over and brush him as he dozed.

Relieved that Aggro was going to leave him be, Vega took the opportunity to stare into the full-length mirror, touching his horns proudly. He felt a light zap of magic bounce off of his horns as he touched them.

Milo took a few quick breaths to steady himself. “Y’know, Dad,” Milo began to say once he returned from putting away Vega’s coat. “I’m glad you’re back, because I want to ask you s‒”

Without warning, Vega laid his arm across Milo’s shoulders and pulled him close. “Milo!” Vega yelped, pointing to the mirror. “Look, look there! Do you see what I see?”

Milo awkwardly twisted his head out of Vega’s armpit so he could peer into the mirror. He saw his father, poised and stately, not a hair out of place. He was exactly the type of man Milo wishes he could figure out a way to be. Confident, strong, wise. In a word? Perfect.

"I see a capable, suave, handsome man, full of power and potential!" Vega enthusiastically praised.

Beaming, Milo opened his mouth to thank his father for his compliments, only for Vega to cut him off to finish his thought.

"And, oh!” Vega added with a wink, pointing to the reflection. "You're there, too!" He slapped his knee and chuckled.

Milo's whole countenance dropped at Vega's joke.

"Come on now." Vega clicked his tongue between his teeth. "Don't take everything so seriously, Milo! I'm joking, of course."

The words should've made Milo feel better, but the subtle tones of disapproval and annoyance in his father's voice made Milo feel anything but better. He felt small. Unworthy. Insignificant. And the way Vega casually shrugged off his reaction only made Milo feel worse because to top it all off, he began to feel as if he were being oversensitive to something that shouldn’t have bothered him in the slightest.

Again, Vega fed.

Milo pushed away those feelings as best he could. “Umm, Dad?” he asked tentatively. “I was wondering‒”

“Speak up now!” Vega commanded, still admiring himself in the mirror. “If you have something actually important to say, you best not mumble.” Vega winked at his reflection before finally pulling himself away from the mirror. “Oh, I’m just teasing you again, of course, Son.” Vega gave Milo a light punch in the shoulder. “Our little chats are so fun.” He brushed past Milo without a second glance, strolling over to the sofa and busying himself with arranging the pillows.

Milo’s gaze dropped to the floor, a wispy, forlorn sigh escaping his lips. “Alright then.”

Aggro perked his head up and gave a thready “re-ow” to encourage Milo.

“I want to go to the solstice festival!” Milo burst.

Vega unceremoniously dropped the throw pillow and plopped down onto the couch. “You… Want… What?”

“The solstice is coming up and I know Dahlia hosts a big festival to celebrate,” Milo slowly explained. “And I was hoping, this year, you’d take me into town for it.” Milo took a seat next to Vega. “And maybe I'd even get the chance to hunt in the forest, as a, y'know, as a wolf. I should be allowed to go. I’ve been inside this tower every day for my entire life!” Milo jutted his chin slightly upwards to generate a look of maturity as Vega gave him an inscrutable glare. “I’ve waited so long. I’ve been patient. And I promise I'll be careful and stay outta everyone's way! All I’m asking for is one day. Please, Dad?”

Vega heaved a mighty sigh and pinched the bridge of his thin nose. “Again with this ‘outside’ nonsense, Milo?” he chastised. “Really? Have you forgotten why we stay in this tower?”

Milo rubbed at his chin with his knuckles. “No, but I‒”

“Mmm, but you sound like you’ve forgotten,” Vega quipped, wagging a disapproving finger at Milo. “So let me remind you, Milo, dearest.” Vega snapped his fingers so that a smokey, hologram-like image appeared in front of himself and Milo. “We stay here to keep you safe. To keep you alive. Because out there…”

The image twisted into the shape of a small wolf, lying alone in a wooded area.

Milo’s lips twitched into a frown. He had seen this narrative play out so many times before, but despite knowing how the story would end, he could never bring himself to look away.

“People consider you a monster. A beast. Something to chase down, to hunt, and to kill. Because you’re a shifter. A freak of magic and nature fused into a living, breathing mistake.” A mass of people with weapons, both magical and physical, charged towards the little wolf, who cowered in fear and curled into himself. “That’s why you were abandoned in the woods as a teeny tiny baby.” Vega waved his hand so that the image twisted into a crude rendering of Milo as an infant. “Once they knew who you were, what you were, they got rid of you just as soon as they could. ”

Milo’s eyes were glued to the image as Vega spoke.

“Left alone as a mere baby to succumb to dehydration, starvation, and the harsh elements of the Dahlian Forests,” Vega continued to claim. “Unwanted by your own family! Unloved! Uncared for! Feared and hated, like a loathsome creature.”

Each word was like a knife in Milo’s gut.

“And you would’ve surely died, had fate not been on your side that day.” Vega waved his hand again so that the image displayed a miniature-version of Vega walking up to the baby and taking him in his arms. “If I hadn’t stumbled upon you and showed you the kindness and compassion that your own kin never showed you.” Vega snaked his other arm around Milo’s shoulders. “And I took you back here, nursed you back to health, and raised you as my own child.” He gave a haughty, self-important eyebrow raise. “I gave you food, shelter, clothes. I provided you with the books and supplies so you could gain a thorough education.”

Vega, of course, failed to mention that he made sure to scrub every last piece of educational information that would undermine Vega’s false claim that Milo’s identity as a shifter would ostracize him from society from anything he brought Milo from the outside world. He painstakingly ensured that not one iota of information that would jeopardize his master plan would ever enter the tower, especially the fact that the royal family of Dahlia was a pack of wolves.

“I know, Dad,” Milo interjected weakly.

“If you know, then why, Milo? Why do you insist on leaving this tower, a tower I crafted for your own survival and protection? And that’s not all I’ve done for you!” Vega gasped. “Let’s remember, I painstakingly showed you how to control your shifting magic when your powers manifested. I taught you how to dim your aura in case anyone ever tried to break in and hunt you down. I, a sadism-demon, of all beings, took pity on you. And you repay me by asking to leave our home? Our safe-haven? Aren’t you the least bit grateful for the compassion I showed you out of the goodness of my heart?”

“Of course I am!” Milo exclaimed, pure guilt weighing heavy pressure on his chest. “Dad, I’m so grateful for you. Everything I am is because of you. I owe you my life!”

Vega nodded to confirm Milo’s answer. “That’s right. I gave you everything those cruel, small-minded humans in Dahlia wanted to take away from you, and still, you insist on this overblown fantasy of pretending you fit in with the rest of the townspeople.” Vega flicked his wrist, causing the little representative image to disappear in a cloud of smoke. “You won’t ever fit in with them, Milo. And I think it would be best for us all if you stop trying. You’re different. You’ll always be different,” he sneered. “They’ll never accept you, Milo. They’ll never love you. Not like I do.”

The gravity of Vega’s blunt words hit Milo harder than he thought possible. He shrunk into himself, feeling completely alone even with Vega sitting right beside him. A stray tear almost surfaced from the corner of Milo’s eye, but he hurriedly blinked it away. “You’re right,” Milo croaked sadly. He cleared his throat, still feeling conflicted about his desire to go out, but unwilling to continue this painful line of conversation with Vega. “You’re right, Dad,” he repeated, wishing he could fully convince himself. After all, life for Milo would be a lot easier if he didn’t feel such an innate, primal pull towards being a part of Dahlian society. There was no reason for him to feel that way, and yet he couldn’t help but fiercely want something that was clearly no good for him. Milo swallowed nervously. “It was a stupid idea. I just… I don’t know.” I’m sorry I asked. I… I don’t know what got into me.”

Vega pulled Milo into the side of his lanky frame and held him loosely. Milo clung to Vega with every drop of strength he had, burying his face into his father’s chest.

“Stupidity is a forgivable offense,” Vega assured him slyly. “Just promise me that you won’t ever speak about this again.”

Despite the bravado of being fully grown and mature, Milo couldn’t deny the comfort and safety he felt wrapped up in his father’s embrace that shielded him against the cruel world that would sooner see him dead for no other reason than his magic manifesting in a way that let him turn into a wolf at will. It was a heavy burden for Milo to contemplate day after day in his solitude. “Mkay,” Milo whispered into Vega’s chest.

“That’s my good boy,” Vega remarked as he unwound himself from Milo even though he sensed that Milo didn't want to part with him just yet.

Yet again, Vega fed. Milo's feelings of self-reproach were a delicious dessert for the sadism-demon.

"I'm sorry," Milo added hastily. "I guess I just got a little carried away or something. I wasn't thinking clearly." He threw his hands in the air. "You know how antsy I get around the solstice."

“You’ll have to work a little better to control that fidgetiness,” Vega sharply advised. “But I'm sure with time and practice, we can break you of that habit. And until then, it’s a load off my mind to know you’ll be here in this tower, safe and sound, forever.”

“Forever,” Milo echoed under his breath, a distinct wave of anxiety inflected in his tone. His wide, chocolate eyes darted around the room, which suddenly felt three times smaller than normal. “Right.”

Vega slowly rose from the sofa. “Excellent,” he sneered, fingering the collar of his shirt, satisfied he’d snuffed out the bit of rebellion and independence from Milo. “Here’s where you belong, son. With me. In our haven away from all those who would cause you harm. And it is a nice place, isn’t it?” Vega gestured with wide arms around the tower. “What more could you ask for?”

“Well,” Milo began again, still reeling from Vega’s callous reminiscing of his childhood. It hurt Milo beyond words to hear that he had been abandoned as an infant, and the only coping mechanism that ever offered him a shred of relief was ignoring them completely. “Now that you mention it, I’ve been knitting pretty often lately, and I’m running out of yarn.” Milo pointed to the half-finished sweater that was thrown up and over a kitchen chair. The top half of the sweater was a bright aqua color that faded into ocean blue and then navy as Milo worked his way down to the hem. “And, I’ve been maxed out on my weight sets now for over two months.” He flexed his biceps for Vega. “I gotta make sure I can progressively overload if I want to keep these gains, Dad.” Milo winked, a bit of his exuberance coming back once he distracted himself from the anxieties that bubbled underneath the surface.

Vega hummed, noting Milo’s tenacity. Perhaps another day, Vega would try to nudge his mind into a downward spiral of self-doubt that would prevent Milo from even having the gall to ask for things on his own behalf, but not today. When Milo asked for a mile, Vega would grant him an inch and make Milo thank him profusely for that inch. It annoyed Vega to no end how steadfast and resilient Milo was in the face of his manipulations, but eventually, Vega knew he could outlast this young, naïve human.

Besides, Vega reminded himself, he had time. He had all the time in the world to slowly and carefully crush Milo’s sense of self into dust. Milo proved surprisingly strong, but after all, he was just a pathetic little human. A shifter without a pack. Completely and utterly alone in the world. Under the impression that his wolfness made him an outcast. Yes, Vega could outlast Milo without breaking a sweat.

And if a supply of colored yarn and a few more free weights provided the opportunity for Vega to do so, he'd gladly pay that price.

"We certainly wouldn't want you to lose any muscular progress you've made," Vega observed, squeezing Milo's shoulder. "After all, you don't have much muscle to lose, now do you?"

Frowning, Milo shuffled out of Vega's grip. "I'm getting stronger everyday, Dad. Maybe one day, I'll be as strong as you."

"Of course, son," Vega placated, which he knew would make Milo feel even worse. "You're so adorable when you try." The sadism-demon turned his attention to fiddling with his cufflinks. "So that's yarn and dumbbells. Anything else I should pick up?" he asked sarcastically.

If Milo recognized the sarcasm, he didn't give the slightest indication.

"Some chicken bites for Aggro?" Milo added without missing a beat. "Please?"

"Don't tell me you've already blown through the two bags I brought back last month?" Vega gasped. "No wonder he's as spoiled as he is."

"He's a good little man," Milo defended indignantly. “He deserves treats! He guards our tower 24/7.”

Vega snorted. “Yes, and we thank him for his service.”

Aggro’s eyes narrowed as he let out a grumbling meow. If it weren’t so high-pitched, he might’ve sounded intimidating.

“Fine,” Vega relented. “I will pick up a case of chicken bites for Aggro, as well as the other items you asked for.”

“Thanks, Dad!” Milo smiled, feeling a bit better. “I’m sorry to make you go out again, though. It was stupid of me not to ask you when you left last week.”

“Well, son…” Vega motioned lazily for Milo to retrieve the coat he had just put away. “We all have our flaws and we must learn to live with them.”

Truth be told, Vega was ecstatic at the thought of roaming around Dahlia. Even with the growing excitement and stronger love that buzzed around the kingdom during the solstice, just as Vega had planned all those years ago, so did feelings of longing for Milo’s return, anxiety over who might be kidnapped next, and even the desire for violence if only the kingdom could avenge itself upon the culprit on Milo’s behalf.

This time of year was like a buffet of emotions for Vega, and he intended to take in his fill.

“I won’t be gone too long,” Vega lied, sticking his arm through the trench coat as Milo held it out for him. “Though as long as I’m out, I might run a few extra errands. I’ve already made sure you’re all set on food and everything during my absence.”

“Okay,” Milo grinned. “I’ll miss you, Dad.”

“Oh, and I’ll miss you, too,” Vega sickeningly responded. “But it makes me so happy to know that you’ll be waiting right here for me until I get back.” He took a few wide strides backwards, dodging the hug that he sensed Milo was debating as to whether or not he should initiate.

A snack for the road, Vega joked to himself silently.

“Ta-ta!” he called before rifting away.

“Bye,” Milo said, too late for Vega to hear him. Milo immediately shifted his focus to Aggro, because the alternative was a bit too painful for him to confront. “That’s nice of Dad, isn’t it, Aggro? He goes out of his way to get me and you the stuff I ask for since I have to stay inside here. We’re so lucky he came along. He saved us both, y’know? Nobody wanted either of us. But Dad did.”

Aggro pawed at Milo’s foot and looked up at Milo with wide eyes.

Milo dropped to the floor, coming to his belly so he could scratch Aggro from tip to toe. “Oh, that’s my little man,” Milo praised, giving Aggro a quick kiss on the forehead. “I know it’s hard to stay inside here day after day. But, it ain’t all bad, you know? We got everything we need right here, don’t we, buddy? Food. Shelter. Books to read. Loads of fun stuff to do.” Milo forced a smile onto face, trying to convince himself that the claustrophobic feeling within himself wasn’t real. “What more could we ask for?”

Chapter Text

“Keep going, keep going, keep going,” the stealth panted, sprinting through the forest at full speed. “I think I lost them.” They came to a full stop and readjusted the heavy knapsack that was slung across their body so it wouldn’t hit the same spot on the back on their knee as it had been doing as they fled from their pursuers. “Probably going to have a nasty bruise there tomorrow,” they lamented. As they stopped to catch their breath, they noticed a “WANTED” sign tacked onto a tree with their likeness, minus the shape of their nose. Their vanity got the better of them as they evaluated the photo. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” they burst, snatching the paper to stare at it closely. “They never get my nose right, do they? I mean…” They rubbed at their nose. “It’s not that big, is it?” they asked aloud, even though they were completely alone. “Maybe I don’t even have to cloak to hide. No one will recognize me if they think this is what I look like!”

“I thought I heard something over there!” a shrill voice called out. “C’mon! This way! They couldn’t have gone far.”

“Well, on second thought, why take the chance?” the stealth mused to themselves. With an exhale, they went invisible and ensured that they muted their aura and any sounds they might make as they fled. After shoving the poster in their already-packed knapsack, they continued to put distance between themselves and the Royal Department of Uniform Magical Practices trackers who were looking to arrest them.

“Get the traitor!” they called out, taking loud steps and not even bothering to avoid rustling in the greenery. “We can’t let them escape again!”

The cloak set a wave of familiar comfort over the stealth as they continued their journey, unsure of where exactly to go but very sure they couldn’t stay put. “How the hell am I supposed to know where I am?” they whispered, their magic hiding any trace of sound that came from them. “Everything looks the same! Trees, bushes, grass. Trees, bushes, grass…”

Out of desperation, they kept putting one foot in front of the other, willing themselves to ignore the soreness of their muscles and the pangs of hunger in their gut. “How hard could it be to put a sign here? Or a map? Something for those of us without innate senses of direction! I’m Fully Certified and one of the most powerful stealths in all of Dahlia, and this is what takes me out? The fact that I’m not a human-compass? Nature is cruel!” they groaned dramatically.

Still cloaked, the stealth felt a rumble of cloaking magic that was not their own enter their field of sensation. As a stealth, their specialization helped alert them to the presence of cloaking magic in all its forms, whereas other empowered humans would simply never notice the ward and the secretive work it does. They warily straightened their spine and doubled their efforts to keep themselves hidden as they assessed the situation. “A ward?” they recognized, slowly moving closer to the magic. “A big ward,” they corrected, coming up to a clearing. “A really big ward.”

A large open field right in the middle of a notoriously dense forest? There had to be something there. Something worth hiding.

“Well, well, well,” the stealth chuckled. “What do we have here?” They extended their hands out in front of them, searching with invisible tendrils of stealth-magic to discover the object that must’ve been right in front of them. Eventually, their magic grazed along what felt like thick concrete. “A house?” they wondered cautiously, slipping around. “Well, as long as the whole kingdom already thinks I’m a thief, I might as well enjoy the benefits. How hard could it be to break in and steal a little food?”

The stealth carefully phased through the thick concrete. As soon as they entered the foundation, everything became visible. The ward only affected those who were outside what the stealth realized was actually a tall tower. They found themselves in what they figured was the bottom floor. It was a dark and dusty cellar, nothing but a few shelves of old, worn out household items and a dizzying staircase that led upwards. The stealth sighed at the prospect of having to climb the stairs, but they squared their shoulders and began their assent.

Eventually, they reached the top, which led to a wooden door. They gently pushed on the door, a loud squeak erupting from the motion. Once they took one hesitant step into the room, recognizing it as a living space. Upon first glance, the place seemed clean, safe, and empty.

Exhausted from their constant running, they uncloaked to give their body a rest. They exhaled, letting their shoulders and neck finally unclench a bit as they took another step forward.

Suddenly, something hard hit them on the back of the head. They lost consciousness before they hit the ground.

The stealth blinked open their eyes bleary with fatigue. The pounding headache distracted them from their growing hunger. Their head lolled along the curve of their neck as they fought their way back to reality. “Oh, God,” they groaned, titling their chin upwards to wake themselves up. “Wh-where am I?” They instinctively began to bring a hand to their head when they realized that both wrists were firmly held in place by a rope tied to a chair. “Oh, that’s cute,” the stealth snickered under their breath. They closed their eyes, expecting to go invisible and intangible to escape whatever trap they had accidentally fallen into, until they realized they couldn’t reach their magic.

Panicked, the stealth began to fidget, finding their ankles bound to the wooden chair, as well. “My magic!” they gasped. “I can’t feel it! It’s muted. Oh, this is not good. This is so not good,” they began to mumble, pulling at their magic-muting bonds and wiggling.

They became so preoccupied with trying to find a way to break free that they didn’t hear the tippy-tappy patter of cat claws against the floor.

Aggro jumped into the air, digging his claws into the flesh of their shoulder and biting at their skin.

“Get off!” the stealth shrieked. They didn’t know what kind of unruly animal had latched onto their body, but they knew it needed to get off. “Go away! Stop it!” As they rocked their back and forth, they threw their weight too far back and toppled onto the floor.

Satisfied he had disarmed and neutralized the threat, Aggro sat down proudly on top of the stealth’s face.

“Struggling…” an out-of-breath voice echoed from somewhere the stealth couldn’t see. “Struggling is pointless!”

“Huh?” they murmured in confusion, the light pressure of the cat's body settling onto their cheek.

“I know why you’re here, and I’m not afraid of you!” the voice declared. There was force behind the words, but also a tremor.

The stealth twisted their neck to try to locate who was speaking, but Aggro didn’t budge off of their face. “What?”

A man slowly stepped out from behind the shadows that the curtains cast. “Who are you and how did you find me?”

The stealth squinted at the man warily, tracking their eyes up and down his form. He held a thick textbook in his hands like it was a weapon. Given the way he gripped it and glared, the stealth had no doubt that the book was an effective weapon when it was wielded by this stranger. He was slightly shorter than they were, but more muscular. His dark hair was curly, styled just perfectly to show its voluminous definition without covering his brown eyes. The determination in his eyes was second only to the bright sparkle. The crinkle in his nose was frankly adorable, but it didn’t undermine the ferocity that radiated off of him.

The dazed stealth shook themselves out of their thoughts, wondering how hard they must’ve hit their head to be thinking about this guy’s face when they had more pressing matters to attend to, such as escaping.

“Aggro,” he called, patting his hip. The cat obediently approached the man, finally leaving the stealth’s face. Once the cat reached Milo’s feet, he scooped him up and let the cat take a seat on his shoulder. Milo fought the urge to giggle when Aggro’s thready whiskers brushed against his cheek so as not to lose his authority.

“I’m only going to ask one more time,” Milo threatened, moving a little closer. He yanked on the chair to stand it back up. “So listen up, Sweetheart.” The nickname rolled off his tongue easily, almost easier than Milo expected. He felt like using the name ironically as a sneer gave him an air of intimidation, like he had read about in all of those mystery novels that lined his shelves. “Who are you and how did you find me?”

"I… I… I…" Sweetheart stuttered. "I didn't come looking for you. I didn't know anyone was here, and frankly, all I want to do now is leave, so if you would just untie these magic-muting binds, restrain that wolverine in a cat's body, and let me be on my way, I think we’d both get what we want. Hand me my knapsack, and I will get out of your hair so fast, I…" The stealth craned their neck. “Oh no. Oh no! Where is it?” they yelped. “Where’s my knapsack?!”

“I’ve hidden it,” Milo smugly informed them, tossing the heavy book from one hand to the next. “Somewhere you’ll never find it.”

Up to that challenge, the stealth swept their eyes around the room. “It’s in that cat-basket under the blanket, isn’t it?”

Before the stealth knew what happened, another blow to their head made everything in their vision go black.

Sweetheart felt themselves come to consciousness a little bit quicker this time, blinking rapidly and remembering exactly where they were. “You have to stop that!” they commanded powerlessly.

Milo flashed them a proud half-smile, crossing his arms over his body. “Now your knapsack is hidden where no one will ever find it.” He began to pace around the stealth. “So, what do you want with me? To kill me? Skin me? Hang my head on your wall?”

“What? No!” the stealth gasped. “I’m not a serial killer. That’s disgusting! Why in the world would I want you dead? I don’t even know your name!”

Milo stopped his pacing. “What?”

“Like I started to say, before you so rudely interrupted me with a concussion, I came in here for a little bit of shelter and maybe some food. I’ve heard you need those things every now and again." Their sarcasm was sharp, betraying how helpless they felt as a captured prisoner of this man. "I sensed the tower, since I’m a stealth who has pretty good detection powers, if I do say so myself. I phased in. End of story, okay?” Sweetheart explained hurriedly.

“A stealth,” Milo repeated. “Hmm. I’ve heard of your kind. Read about them. You specialize in cloaking, phasing, and concealment, right?”

“Big deal. Who hasn’t heard of stealths?” they shrugged, unimpressed and frankly, a little insulted by Milo’s tone. “And yeah, that’s right. We do. Though I’m Fully Certified, so I can do a lot more than that. Well, usually. I can’t right now. I can't even sense your aura because of these stupid magic-muting cuffs.” Their lips twitched. “What are you?”

“You don’t know me and you don’t know what I am,” Milo whispered to himself, giving Aggro a quick look. At the mention of auras, Milo tamped down on his own aura, just like Vega taught him to do in an emergency. That way, even if the stealth managed to break free, they wouldn’t be able to sense he was a wolf. “Well, get used to disappointment, because I’m not telling you about my magic. But…” He pressed his lips together, as if deliberating how much he could trust Sweetheart. “I will tell you my name. It’s Milo.”

Aggro yowled like a trumpet, clearly unhappy with Milo’s choice to disclose that piece of information. The cat swatted at Milo’s ear.

“Ah,” he hissed at the sharp pain. “Excuse me for a second,” he said politely, turning his back on Sweetheart to consult with Aggro. “I know, I know, buddy,” Milo relented. “But I need someone to take me to the solstice festival. This might be my only chance and it's too good to pass up.”

A slight mew was Aggro’s response.

“I think they're telling the truth,” Milo explained. “They really don’t know I’m…” He trailed off, shame inflected in his hushed voice. “What other choice do I got? In case you hadn’t noticed, there ain’t no other options. Dad will never know the difference. I'll be back before he even knows I left.”

Aggro licked Milo’s neck approvingly.

"Yeah, yeah." Milo rolled his eyes. "Of course I'll take you with me. We're a team. You know that." He quickly kissed Aggro on the top of his furry little head before plastering the hard scowl back into his face. “Okay, Sweetheart. Listen up.” Milo turned to face his captive stealth. “I’m prepared to offer you a deal. Are you familiar with the solstice festival?”

Whatever Sweetheart was expecting to hear, that wasn’t it. “You mean the solstice festival Dahlia puts on every year? Yeah, lots of hoopla and merriment. It's famous. Of course I’ve heard of it.” Sweetheart had no real attachment to the solstice festival. There wasn't a lot of space in their life for celebration, even a celebration as big as Dahlia's, but they certainly were aware of the holiday and liked to mark the occasion in their own small way.

“Yeah, I know it’s famous. Thanks for the bulletin,” Milo grimaced sarcastically. “It’s so big, I can see some of the activity from all the way up here!” He pointed to the window. “Tomorrow is the first day of the festival. You…” He pointed at Sweetheart. “Will act as my guide and take me to the festival. And, you will return me home safely. Then, and only then, will I return your knapsack to you. That is my deal.”

“Uhh… no can do,” Sweetheart denied, their fingers moving widely to make up for the fact that they couldn’t gesture with their hands as they spoke. “Unfortunately, the Kingdom of Dahlia and I are not exactly on friendly terms, so I won’t be taking you anywhere. A festival is not really on my agenda, at the moment. I’ve more important things to do in Dahlia and I won’t be able to do them while babysitting you. In fact, I won't be able to do them at all unless you give me my stuff and let me go!”

“Stubborn, ain’t ya?” Milo whistled. “So I am. And for better or worse, I’ve decided to trust you. That’s why I strongly suggest you trust me when I tell you this.” Milo grabbed Sweetheart by their shirt collar and pulled them forward. Their chair tipped forward precariously until their face was a breath away from Milo’s. “You can tear this tower apart, brick by brick. You can use all the magic you want. But without my help, you will never find your precious knapsack. You got that?”

Sweetheart grunted, hating the feeling of being at Milo’s mercy. “Let me get this straight,” they bit out between clenched teeth. “I take you to the festival. I bring you back home. And you’ll give me back my knapsack and everything inside it?”

“I promise,” Milo confirmed. “And when I promise something, I never, ever break that promise. Ever.”

Aggro’s tail flicked furiously to support Milo’s claim.

Sweetheart stared at the duo before them. The stealth didn’t trust lightly. They considered themselves fiercely independent and fairly jaded, given the life they had lived. With the recent onslaught of circumstances that turned their entire life upside down and forced them to undertake the rogue, solo, self-imposed life of a fugitive on the run, trust was not a luxury they could allow themselves.

And yet…

When they looked into Milo’s eyes, they felt an inexplicable urge to trust him. As much as that surprised (and even scared) Sweetheart, they realized that the best way out of this predicament might be to go along with Milo’s deal, no matter how ridiculous it sounded.

“Alright,” they agreed with a nod. “Alright. Fine! I’ll take you to the solstice festival.”

“Really?!” Milo exclaimed. “Yes! You hear that Aggro? We are going outside to celebrate the solstice this year. Finally!” He pumped his fists into the air, unaware that he was letting Sweetheart’s chair fall forward to the ground with a smack. “Oh, sorry, sorry, sorry,” he hastily added. Milo fell to his knees, looking Sweetheart over for blood or bruises. “Are you okay?”

“Oww,” Sweetheart whined. “Yeah. I’m okay. Except I think I already regret this.”

Chapter Text

“Yes, of course, Alpha,” Blake, the Deputy of the Royal Department of Uniform Magical Practices responded, shuffling a stack of papers and pressing them under his arm. “They’re quite crafty, but we’ll find them. We have all available personnel searching the whole territory. Even the most powerful of stealths can’t cloak and run forever.”

“No, I imagine not,” David said wryly, leaning back in his chair. He was anxious for this briefing to be over so he could prepare to announce the official beginning to the solstice celebration that evening, but the news that an R.D.U.M.P. investigator who was to be tried for treason had escaped prison and fled the kingdom had David determined to find out more about the situation. “Though I can’t imagine why you didn’t choose to report to me or Beta Asher when this alleged criminal was indicted for treason in the first place. That was quite an oversight on your part, Blake.”

“I’m sorry, Alpha,” Blake quickly apologized. He didn’t realize that David fought the urge to roll his eyes at the sycophancy he performed. “My mistake. But, with all due respect, I assure you, there is nothing ‘alleged’ about this criminal’s actions. I’m sad to say that they were a member of my squad.” Blake clicked his tongue. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. I wish I could say I was surprised by the stealth’s corruption, but that would be a lie. I know, I know. They were a decorated member of R.D.U.M.P., but great power and skillful application of that power must be accompanied by a moral compass. Otherwise, well, a disaster such as this is inevitable, wouldn’t you say? In a way, I blame myself. Perhaps if I could’ve mentored them more or reprimanded them more forcefully, we could’ve had a different outcome.”

“Yes, well, be that as it may,” David brusquely sighed. “Their crimes remain ‘alleged’ until they are put on trial and found guilty for said crimes. We live in a civilized society, Blake. Our kingdom was founded on principles of justice, fairness, and equity among all citizens. It is those principles, among others, you and those under your command are tasked with preserving, protecting, and enacting. I won’t have talk of vigilante revenge or hugger-mugger sentencing in my presence.”

Blake cowered at the Alpha’s stern glare. “Of course, Alpha. Sorry, Alpha,” Blake hastily rescinded.

David tapped his fingers on the desk. “What I don’t understand is why. Why did they allegedly choose this path of crime after having been such a successful investigator? Their record is immaculate. Their commendations are impressive. Not to mention, they certainly never showed any sign of considering themselves above the law. Not even an ordinance to their name!” David scowled. “I’m not convinced we have the full picture just yet.”

“I…” Blake visibly cringed, something David noticed instantly.

The shifter made a mental note to discuss Blake’s vehement vitriol towards the rogue stealth with Asher later, but for now, David simply stored that piece of information as he stored away every piece of information that his mind could possibly hold, if he thought it was worth the effort to. “But first things first,” David redirected. “We have to find this stealth and we have to find them as soon as possible. We cannot run the risk of them fleeing Dahlia, especially if they are as dangerous as you claim. Double the number of patrol details you have. I want every rock overturned, every ward inspected, every shadow examined, every bit of Dahlia checked until you find them. And bring them back to me.”

A wickedly thin smile crossed the R.D.U.M.P. Deputy’s face. “Yes, Alpha. Of course, Alpha,’' he chimed sweetly. “I’ll dispatch more trackers as soon as our meeting concludes.”

“See that you do,” David approved.

Blake scrambled up from his seat and headed towards the door. He was nearly out, until David’s deep voice stopped him in his tracks.

“And Blake?” David spoke low and slow, a tactic he learned from his father to ensure that people leaned in to listen to his words. “I want you to make every possible effort to bring that stealth in alive. We need to get to the bottom of this.”

Blake’s eyes darkened. “I wouldn’t dream of anything else,” he playfully agreed, punning on his magic specialty as a dreamwalker.

"Dismissed." David didn’t give Blake a second look. He merely waved his hand to signal to Blake that he ought to leave. Blake gave one last cheesy grin to Alpha David before slamming the door shut.

“Although, not all dreams come true, you big, dumb mutt,” Blake whispered wickedly.

It hadn’t been long since Milo and Sweetheart had started out on their journey, but the two travelers were having completely different experiences thus far.

Sweetheart cast a tired glance over at Milo, who had insisted they stop for a moment to give him a chance to lay down in the grass and wave around his arms and legs similar to the motion someone would use to make a snow-angel. "This is amazing!" he giggled. "I can't believe I did this!”

Aggro, too, joined his human and rolled from back to belly, swaying back and forth beside Milo.

Since their trip had begun, Milo oscillated between a variety of extremes. Utter ecstasy at being outside for the first time in his life and agonized depression for having lied to his father. Bold curiosity to discover the world around him and absolute terror at the prospect of participating in the world without the pages of a book or the ward of the tower to protect him.

Sweetheart watched Milo run along a grassy clearing, all while laughing gleefully.

And, five minutes later, they watched as Milo curled up into a ball underneath a willow tree, fighting back tears as he wondered how he could’ve betrayed his father so cruelly and callously.

“I can’t believe I did this!” Milo wailed. “I am a despicable human being. It would kill Dad to know I was out here. I am the worst, most ungrateful son in the history of the entire universe!”

It was a dizzying display of the depths of human emotion. Sweetheart had no interest whatsoever in the show Milo was putting on before them. All they wanted was to get this day over with so Milo could celebrate the stupid solstice so they could return him to that strange tower so they could be on their way. They had important matters to attend to, and they needed the contents of that knapsack to do it! Otherwise, no one would ever believe them about what was going on in the ranks of the Royal Department of Uniform Magical Practices, especially not the kingdom’s busy ruler. They needed to find a way to get an audience with Alpha David and somehow not get caught and dragged back to prison before they could do so. It was an impossible feat, but Sweetheart knew that if they didn’t succeed, there could be grave consequences for the kingdom.

But before they made any progress with that, they had to play Dahlia tour guide to a stubborn man and his obnoxious cat.

This was not part of their plan. Not at all.

What they needed was for Milo to give up on his plan to celebrate the solstice. If Sweetheart could somehow convince him to return home early, they’d fulfill their end of the bargain, recover their knapsack, and be on their way, content to never cross paths with Milo again. As Sweetheart wracked their brain to formulate a plan and fought to ignore the growing hunger in their belly, they thought of a way that might speed things along.

Sweetheart rocked back and forth on their heels, thumbs tucked into their belt. Begrudgingly, they stalked over to Milo as he hunched forward into his knees and choked back tears. “Uhh, hey, Milo?” they asked, crouching down to meet his eyes. “I can’t help but notice that you are a tad conflicted about your surroundings.”

“Wh-what?” Milo sniffed.

“Now, I’m only picking up bits and pieces here.” Sweetheart pushed off of their thighs to stand. “Overprotective sadism-demon father, forbidden road trip, a little rebellion, crushing guilt of letting down your loved ones, a little adventure. It’s all good. Healthy, even!”

Aggro snaked across Milo’s ankles as the tips of his ears perked towards Sweetheart.

Milo wiped away the trace of a tear. “You think?”

“I know!” Sweetheart confirmed confidently. “Now, does your father deserve this betrayal? Well, no. And would this little excursion crush his soul and break his heart? Absolutely! But you’ve just got to do it. It’s all a part of being an adult.”

“Break his heart?” Milo wavered.

“In half,” Sweetheart nodded.

Milo swallowed. “Crush his soul?”

“Like a wine grape,” Sweetheart supplied callously, throwing their forearm across their forehead dramatically. “Wow. Hmm. When I say it out loud, maybe this adventure isn’t the best choice for you.”

“Uhhh,” Milo frowned.

“Alright,” Sweetheart stated. “Here’s what I’m going to do. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I'm feeling uncharacteristically charitable today. I’m letting you out of the deal.” They pushed past Milo, starting back towards the tower.

Aggro sprung to his feet, sprinting towards Sweetheart to stop them from moving too quickly.

“Let’s just turn around and get you home!” they suggested brightly. "I’ll get my knapsack back and you’ll get back that oh-so-healthy father-son relationship that you’ve alluded to today based on mutual trust and ta-da!” They made a spirited gesture with their fingers as they tried to dodge Aggro. “We part ways as unlikely friends. All’s well that ends well.”

“No!” Milo groaned at Sweetheart's attempt at conniving him out of his end of the bargain. “I told you! I am going to celebrate the solstice!”

“Oh come on!” Sweetheart whined, giving up the facade of understanding. “Please? This is ridiculous! What is it going to take to get my knapsack back?”

Milo’s eyes narrowed like a predator. “If I hear one more word about that knapsack, I’m gonna‒”

Just then, Sweetheart’s stomach growled loudly, reminding them they never did get any food when they broke into Milo’s tower.

Milo leapt onto Sweetheart's back, clamoring in fear. “What was that?” he gasped. Aggro, in turn, leapt on Milo’s back, hooking his claws in Milo’s shirt. “Is it ruffians? Thugs? Hunters? What?”

“It’s my stomach,” Sweetheart answered in a deadpan fashion. “A truly dangerous threat.”

“Oh,” Milo mumbled, climbing off of Sweetheart. Aggro followed suit. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly.

The only thing that kept Sweetheart from screaming in frustration at Milo's insistence they go on with their journey despite his fears about the world was that another plan popped into their head as to how they could persuade Milo to give up his solstice dream. And, they realized proudly, it was a plan that could satisfy both their appetite for food and their knapsack.

“You must be hungry, too, right?” Sweetheart asked casually, failing to keep their enthusiasm out of their voice. “Because I am absolutely starving! What do you say to a quick little pit stop?”

“I could go for a bite,” he relented. Milo cast a glance at Aggro questioningly. "What do you say, buddy?”

Aggro gave a multi-syllabic meow and flicked his tail excitedly.

“Perfect!” Sweetheart grinned. “And I know just the place that’s right on our way into town. It’s called ‘The Big Gulp.’ It’s a cute little cafe that has just the best scones and sandwiches.”

Milo considered the name curiously. “Oh, well, let’s do that then,” he agreed. “And I do like scones.”

“Yay!” Sweetheart cheered.

“‘The Big Gulp.' The name is really interesting,” Milo mused. “Do they have a lot of different drinks or something? Because I could go for a nice glass of orange juice.”

“Oh, I’m sure we can take care of that,” the stealth sneakily promised as they steered Milo and Aggro towards the pub.

If they couldn’t guilt Milo into going back to his tower, maybe they could scare him into going back to his tower.

Chapter Text

Sweetheart threw back the door to The Big Gulp and nudged Milo inside the rickety, old building. “Bartender!” they announced jubilantly. “Your finest table, please!”

Milo’s eyes went wide at the scene before him. The Big Gulp did not resemble the cute little café Sweetheart had discussed on their walk.

The walls were crumbling into dust. The few light fixtures that hung along the ceiling were flickering obnoxiously. The floor was full of mismatched patches that did not fully cover all of the cracks, not to mention there was a distinctly sticky sensation upon the floor when Milo took a halting step forward. Bugs trailed along the edge of the wall beside Milo. Rats larger than Aggro scurried across the bar.

And the building itself was nothing compared to the clientele.

When Sweetheart called out like that, their voice caused everyone inside The Big Gulp to stare daggers at them. Milo couldn’t suppress a gasp when he saw the malicious grin spread over the pair of customers arm-wrestling at the booth nearby. Milo snapped his head to look somewhere, anywhere else, only to find what he presumed to be an electro-energetic zap a small lightning bolt that shot from their finger to the space on the wall just above Milo’s hair.

"Lovely, you missed!" a man jeered.

Aggro shrunk into Milo, wrapped himself around the shuddering human’s neck.

Sweetheart pushed Milo deeper into The Big Gulp. “Do you smell that?” they asked cheekily. “Take a breath through the nose! Really let that scent seep in,” they instructed, making their way through a line up of d(a)emons, vampires, and empowered humans alike, all of whom glared and growled at Milo and Sweetheart.

“I… Umm…” Milo stuttered. "Wh-wh-what kind of scones are you serving today?"

“I’ve seen that stealth somewhere before,” one man commented slowly, a thick drawl in his voice. A few other patrons murmured discontentedly at that fact. “But he looks new.”

Sweetheart took his comment to be an invitation for interaction. “What excellent observation skills!” they complimented as they elbowed the man in his side. “In fact, I‒” Sweetheart went momentarily speechless when they looked up to the man’s face. “Is… is that a bloodstain on your beard?” they asked, correctly realizing that the man was a vampire when they bravely met his silver eyes. “Milo, look at this!” They beckoned for Milo to take a seat near them.

Milo remain frozen in terror, standing awkwardly where Sweetheart had left him.

“Milo! Look at all the blood in this guy’s beard!” Sweetheart repeated exuberantly. They trailed their fingers through the man’s bushy chin. “Good sir, that is a lot of blood!”

The vampire blinked at Sweetheart.

“Hey, Sam,” another vampire, who was sitting near the electro who’d almost singed Milo’s hair for fun, laughed. “Looks like you got a stealthy admirer or something? They got the hots for you!”

“Shut up, Vincent,” Sam groaned. He turned to Sweetheart, letting his fangs drop. “I ain’t interested in anything you’re offering, Stealth,” he sneered. “And you’re lucky my partner isn’t here to see you flirting with me like that, or else they’d rip you limb from invisible limb. Now, do yourself and me a favor. Get lost.”

“Oh, cool it with the dark, dangerous brooding act,” someone called from behind the bar. “We all know you’re the softest one here, Sam," he cooly teased. “At least, you’re the softest one here when that partner of yours is away. When they’re around, you certainly harden up, don't you?”

“Hardee har har, Gavin,” Sam grimaced, sucking down another mouthful of what looked like a Bloody Mary with real blood. He chomped loudly on the stick of celery.

Sweetheart eyed the celery hungrily and forced themselves to address the other man, apparently named Gavin. “Look, I don’t even care what you bring me. Just two plates of any food you got back there, please? Whatever you can make the quickest.”

Gavin snickered. "Oh sure, I'll get right on that." He hopped over the bar and approached Sweetheart. “Besides, I’m the expert in all things sex and flirting. And as… energetic… as I feel our friend here is, I can assure you, their energy is not directed at you, Sam.”

Sweetheart fought to stand down as Gavin, obviously an incubus, they realized, must’ve sensed feelings that they had fought to quash since first laying eyes on Milo.

“Don’t worry, Hon,” he winked at Sweetheart. “I won’t say a word. It’s a code of honor among my kind.” The bartender jutted his head to gesture to Milo. “Although, he looks a little spooked.” The incubus peered at Milo curiously. “What’s his deal?” He leaned in closer to Milo. “I’ve never even felt an aura like that before,” he noted with confusion.

Milo said nothing, continuing to keep his shifter aura a secret. He didn’t know what sorts of heinous crimes these people were accustomed to committing, but he wanted no part of anything like this. He only wanted to celebrate the solstice, not be beaten into a pulp by a pair of vampires or a gang of elementals.

“You don’t look so good, Milo,” Sweetheart mentioned, looping their arm around Milo’s shoulders and pulling him backwards towards the door. “Maybe we better get you home. Call all of this off. After all, this is a five-star, top-notch joint right here! If you can’t handle The Big Gulp, maybe you would be more comfortable back in your tower.”

Just then, a gust of wind coming from inside The Big Gulp blew the door closed before Sweetheart could reach it. An air-elemental gave them an indifferent shrug.

“Nice, Lasko!” a burly guy who was busy magically shaping some dead wood into steins complimented.

Behind him, a fire-elemental was busy gliding a filthy rag across an array of dingy dishes that nearly made Milo gag. “And he didn’t even break a sweat.”

Lasko smiled. “Sweating? That’s your job, Damien. And thanks, Hux,” the air-elemental answered.

Before Sweetheart could march over Lasko and demand that he let them out, a sullen guy grabbed a fistful of Sweetheart’s shirt collar and yanked them into his chest. The shape of his horns gave him away as a serenity-daemon. “Is this you?” He shoved a poster into Sweetheart's hand. It was another wanted poster that showed their likeness, except this image sported a large nose and absurdly narrow eyes.

“Oh, come on!” Sweetheart exclaimed in huff. “Now this is just mean.” They slapped the paper with the back of their hand. “I do not look like this!”

“You ought to try to calm down,” the serenity-daemon snickered. "Stress isn't good for your health, stealth."

Gavin took long strides towards Sweetheart, forcing his way through the cheap chairs and tables. “Cam’s right!” That's where I've seen them before!" he grunted. “Avior, go grab some royal guards. I heard there’s quite the bounty on this stealth’s head.”

"C'mon, Starlight," an inchoate invited the person sitting next to him. "Let's go." Avior and they quickly ran off to do as Gavin asked.

Milo’s jaw dropped. “You’re wanted?” he asked Sweetheart, hurt and disbelief mixing in his voice. “A criminal? Why? What did you do?”

“According to this, they're a traitor and a thief!” Gavin pulled Sweetheart out of Cam’s grip. “And that reward money is going to buy me a new dishwashing system for this fine establishment.”

“Hey, what about us?” Sam added as he and Vincent used their superspeed to get involved in the tussle. Both vampires roughly grabbed one of Sweetheart’s arms. “We could use the money, too! Blackout umbrellas ain’t cheap! As soon as there’s a tear, blackout umbrellas need to be replaced.”

"And my partner's an electro!" Vincent cried. "Do you realize how many lightbulbs they burn through every week?"

“Oh, and what about me?” Lasko added forcefully. The turbulent wind tunnel he created knocked Sweetheart off of their feet, allowing him to get a hand on their ankle. “I need a new pair of headphones to block out your complaining all day long! I deserve the reward money!”

Together, the elementals took hold of Sweetheart's other leg as the stealth tried valiantly to kick their way out of everyone’s grasp.

“We need the money the most!" Damien argued. "We’re trying to plan a wedding and Huxley has expensive tastes!”

"Ugh, I'm not skimping on the flowers, Damien," Hux grumbled. "If we have to invite all six hundred of your mom's coworkers, I should at least be able to get the flower arrangements I want."

Damien fumed, leaving little burn marks where his hands grabbed at Sweetheart. "You leave my mom out of this! She's a very social person!"

Stunned, Milo watched as the entirety of The Big Gulp Pub erupted into madness, with Sweetheart at the center of it all. Everyone clamored to get a hand on Sweetheart so they could claim them as their own captive.

“No, please!” Sweetheart squealed, trying to fight the disarming, muting magic that all the empowered humans and d(e)amons alike were directing at them. It felt like they were being smothered. They knew if they could just concentrate a little bit harder, they could resist the assault of muting magic enough to cloak, but between the hunger that continued to plague them and the exhaustion from having to cloak so long earlier, they had a much harder time summoning their magic. “We can work this out! Let me go!” Sweetheart felt their body get stretched in all directions as everyone clamored to be the one to turn them over to the guards once Avior and Straight brought them back to the pub.

It was the edge of desperation in Sweetheart’s calls that snapped Milo out of his shock. The fear he had felt miraculously drained away when he realized that Sweetheart was in danger and he needed to help. “Hey, hey, hey!” he yelled, squeezing in between the brawl and punching anyone he could reach with his fists. “Let them go! Leave them alone!”

Aggro joined the fray, too. Once he saw how brave his human was being to protect Sweetheart, he maneuvered out from behind Milo’s neck and leapt into the crowd, slashing and biting with all his might as he deftly jumped from demon to human to vampire, leaving a trail of blood and fur in his wake.

Milo felt his right connect with one of the vampire’s fangs. “Give me back my guide!” he ordered.

Vincent’s head snapped back. “Ow!” he groaned, letting go of Sweetheart to cover his nose. “I think he broke my nose!”

Milo stared at his fist incredulously. He couldn't believe he had summoned the force to break a bone infused with their type of magic. Vampires were notoriously strong. Sure, Milo worked out constantly as part of his tower routine, but his father had always told Milo that physicality was not his strongest suit. According to Vega, Milo didn’t have any strong suits.

Milo was so enraptured with his blow to Vincent’s face that he didn’t notice everyone had dropped Sweetheart unceremoniously to the ground and turned their attention to Milo.

Sam hastily moved over to heal Vincent's nose. Milo watched, fascinated. He'd only ever seen healing magic used by his father before. He always wished he could have learned how to heal, too. It was something else that felt like a calling to him, only for Vega to squash that desire. His father had informed him time and time again that only d(a)emons could generate enough power to produce the magic needed to heal properly.

His father must’ve be mistaken, Milo realized. Maybe if he practiced, one day he could learn to heal, too!

Aggro returned to the safety of Milo’s shoulders. The extra weight of the cat brought Milo back to the present.

“Look,” Milo explained rapidly, trying his best not to shrink away at the thought of making his case to a bunch of rude, unruly strangers. “I don’t know where I am or how to get to Dahlia, but I need them to take me to the solstice celebration because I have been dreaming about it my entire life! Find your humanity, won’t you?”

A long meow came from Aggro to add support to Milo’s appeal.

“Haven’t any of you ever had a dream?” Milo asked rhetorically.

Gavin stalked over to Milo. He leaned forward clamping a hand on Milo’s shoulder, looking ready to destroy the secret-shifter with just one look. Their faces were inches away from each other, so close that Milo could see a reflection of himself in Gavin’s eyes.

Huxley and Cam pulled Sweetheart to their feet and shoved them into a rickety chair. The stealth dusted themselves off and tried to restyle their mussed up hair.

“I had a dream,” Gavin declared solemnly. “Now, you may look at me and see merely a big, horny incubus who owns this modest establishment.” He gave a coy smile and raised an eyebrow. “But, as surprising as it might be to hear this, I yearn for the day I can sell this place and become a world-renowned philosopher! Publishing paper after paper. Solving dilemmas for people. Perhaps even teaching a class at D.A.M.N to help shape young minds. That's my dream.”

The whole joint went silent.

“Oh, well, that’s a nice dream,” Milo awkwardly complimented. “And good for you. Don’t give up and I’m sure one day, you’ll be the most philosophical philosopher the world’s ever seen.”

“Really?” Gavin beamed. “You honestly think I could?”

Milo nodded fiercely. “Why not? I believe in you.”

“Well, how about my dream?” Lovely asked shyly. “Some day, I want to design a building, from ground to floor. I want to look out into the Dahlia skyline and know I left my mark on it.”

"Then you go out and you design those buildings!" Milo clapped. "Who else?" he called out, suddenly thriving off of the social interactions. He climbed up into the bar so he could be seen and heard by everyone in The Big Gulp. "Who else has a dream and wants to share?"

"I want to be a concert pianist!" Vincent cried passionately.

Lasko raised his hand. “I dream of skydiving someday!”

One by one, all of the patrons shared their deepest, wildest dreams. Damien dreamt of opening a school to teach literacy. Huxley wished to start a photography business. Cam wanted to open a veterinary clinic.

This place was full of surprise after surprise. Then, Milo realized, how could he even claim to be surprised? He didn’t know these people. He hadn’t even met them. Who was he to look at their gruff exteriors and make rigid decisions based on something as superficial as the number of piercings they had, or the tattoos that showed under their ripped clothing?

It made about as much sense as judging him based on his ability to shift into a wolf.

“We all deserve to chase after our dreams!” Milo encouraged brightly. “All of us!” He spun around, arms outstretched. Aggro took the opportunity to walk out onto Milo's arms to join the fun. "I'm so glad I left my tower today!"

His words were met with cheers and applause from everyone.

“And how about you?” Gavin pointed at Sweetheart menacingly. “Even traitors and thieves have dreams. What’s your dream?”

“My dream?” Sweetheart tensed. “Right. My dream, as a traitor and a thief.” They wrinkled their brow in confusion. “Well, I guess I have dreams just like you, but without the mushy center to them. I want… I… Uh…” The stealth fumbled a bit before projecting that confidence Milo had grown accustomed to seeing them display. “Well, I dream of… Um… Being somewhere warm and sunny.”

“Boo!” Vincent called. “That's a boring, generic dream!”

“Let me finish!” Sweetheart scolded. “I dream of that warm and sunny somewhere being an island that I own! Yeah!” they said. “And I’m all alone. Just me, myself, and I. No one else to bother me or arrest me. Alone and relaxed and rested. With piles of money all around me so I'll never have to worry about anything!” they described passionately.

Milo rolled his eyes at Sweetheart's dream. Maybe some of the details were different, but Milo felt like his experience up until now resembled Sweetheart’s dream enough to know that being alone wasn’t much of a dream at all.

Before anyone could react to Sweetheart’s dream, Avior and Starlight proudly burst through the door. “I found the guards!” Avior announced.

Gavin quickly took Milo and Sweetheart by the hands, shoving them behind the bar so they could stay hidden. Aggro darted right along with them, slinking flatly as possible to keep close to the floor.

“Where are they?” Blake sneered. “Where’s the traitor?” He stamped up and down, the tables shaking with each step. “I know they’re here somewhere. Kody! Find them! Find them now!” he ordered hotly. “Turn this whole place upside down if you have to!”

“Yes, sir!” Kody hurried to do as Blake commanded, spreading out and searching through The Big Gulp. Blake began to search under the tables and Kody ran up the stairs to check the office space that Gavin used for his bookkeeping.

Sweetheart began to quake with fear as the guards neared their hideout. Milo slowly moved his hand along the floor. He didn’t know exactly why or how, but he thought that taking Sweetheart's hand might make them feel better. An almost-magnetic pull brought his hands closer and closer to theirs…

Before Milo could initiate that small, comforting touch, Gavin clapped a hand on Sweetheart's shoulder. "Don't worry. We'll get you both out of here safely," he promised. "Everyone else will handle the guards. Stay with me."

Chin dipped low, Sweetheart swallowed, their throat dry. "I can't go back there," they whispered into their chest. "I can't."

Despite the smallness of their voice, Milo heard them clearly.

"Get a little bit closer together," Gavin instructed with a wink. "And hold on tightly."

Milo and Sweetheart quickly scooted together. Sweetheart wrapped their arms around Milo's shoulders. Milo grabbed Sweetheart's waist with one arm and pressed Aggro to his chest with the other. A protective ward suddenly enveloped Milo and Sweetheart. The hum of Gavin's magic felt like a liberating reprieve to them both. "You are officially shielded from any magic. You can phase right out of here in the ward and get a decent head start towards the town. I'll keep the ward around you for as long as I can, but once you get far enough away, it will wear off because I can’t keep the ward over long distances, so be careful."

"Thank you, Gavin," Milo and Sweetheart said simultaneously.

"Go," Gavin grinned to the pair. "Live your dream."

"I will," Sweetheart responded steadily.

"Oh, I was talking to him," Gavin sniped. "Your dream sucks. In all the wrong ways. You should get a new dream."

Milo giggled. "Thanks again, Gavin. I won't forget this."

Gavin gave Milo a quick kiss on the cheek, causing Milo to clench Sweetheart and Aggro a little bit tighter as his heartbeat quickened. "Now, will you two get out of here already?"

With a quick wave, Milo and Sweetheart waved goodbye to Gavin, phased out of The Big Gulp, and resumed their journey into Dahlia for the upcoming solstice celebration.

Gavin scoffed to himself and shook his head. “Neither even realize what’s right in front of them.” Gavin turned back to the commotion in the front of the pub. As he expected, the search was turning up absolutely nothing. "Humans are so slow on the uptake sometimes."

“There’s no sign of them,” Kody reported as he descended the stairs.

“I believe this is the person you’re looking for?” Huxley quaintly suggested, shoving Damien towards Blake.

“What?” Blake gaped. “No, we are looking for a stealth. A stealth!” he raved madly. “Don’t you know the difference between a stealth and a fire-elemental?” Blake threw up his hands in exasperation. “Bunch of stupid thugs.”

“Well, he’s the man I’m looking for,” Huxley teased, pulling Damien in for a kiss. “Lucky me.”

The dreamwalker rolled his eyes. “Isn’t that just great? But that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve still got a fugitive to find!” He smacked his head with the heel of his palm. “Kody, get back here right now!”

Kody quickly did so, taking his place behind Blake.

“We’ll continue combing through the forests. Thanks for nothing!” he sneered, marching out of The Big Gulp and hoping he’d never have to set foot in that grimy pub again.

Gavin and the rest of the patrons rejoiced knowing the pair had escaped with their help. Everyone hoped Milo would get the chance to attend the solstice festival as he dreamed of doing for his entire life. Gavin’s ward provided Milo and Sweetheart with cover to get them to safety. The incubus’s magic was quite powerful. Not one magic user detected Milo or Sweetheart when they fled The Big Gulp.

But, it wasn't only during their quick escape that Milo and Sweetheart needed protection.

Sitting in the back corner of The Big Gulp was none other than Vega, completely hidden from everyone as he hoped to feed on some of the unsuspecting customers. Vega was dismayed to realize that there were not many emotions he could use as energy in The Big Gulp. For some strange reason, everyone was excited and hopeful.

It was disgusting.

After having Milo as a bottomless source of food, Vega didn't realize how he had grown accustomed to being so fully sated so much of the time. Any little bit of hunger affected him strongly. Not only that, but even the presence of other strong emotions, such as joy, excitement, and worst of all, love, weakened him considerably.

That was why Vega almost left The Big Gulp as soon as he set foot in it.

Almost.

What stopped Vega in his tracks was seeing Milo, standing up on the bar and proclaiming how happy he was to have left his tower to attend Dahlia's solstice festival.

Vega was stunned. Not only had Milo somehow found a way to leave the tower. He had found someone to help him get to Dahlia. And Milo had managed to navigate the world despite the fear and self-doubt Vega had painstakingly tried to impart onto Milo for his entire life.

That wouldn't do.

That wouldn't do at all.

Vega silently cursed the incubus who took it upon himself to provide help to Milo and that troublemaker stealth, because that meant Vega couldn't simply follow their trail and take back his food source right away.

Luckily, Vega was nothing if not a patient sadism-demon.

Chapter Text

“Did you see how that Lasky guy just made that wind-tunnel out of nothing?” Milo reminisced breathlessly. He and Sweetheart had finally slowed down from their full sprint into a light jog. Gavin’s ward had worn off a while ago, but so far, they seemed to be dodging any R.D.U.M.P members, who were no doubt all put on red alert from Blake.

“It was just like ‘whoosh!’” Milo excitedly recreated, moving his hands like Lasko did. “And then, bam! The door shut just like that!” He snapped his fingers. “That was awesome!”

“Y-yeah,” Sweetheart shakily answered. They stared at the ground, too focused on putting one foot in front of the other to listen to Milo’s incessant babbling. Their legs were getting unbearably heavy. They felt overheated, and yet simultaneously chilled. Their headache was back and worse than ever.

But they had to keep moving.

“Then, when Sam and Vincent used their superspeed?! It was like I blinked and whoa…” Milo continued to say. At least Aggro was listening carefully, running alongside the shifter and keeping up with him better than Sweetheart was.

When Sweetheart didn’t answer, Milo skidded to a halt to take a glance at his travel companion. He quickly let any thoughts of The Big Gulp fall away once he saw Sweetheart was struggling to stay upright.

“Are… are you okay?” he asked nervously.

“I’m good,” Sweetheart answered automatically, feeling anything but. They used a nearby tree to keep themselves upright, but the shake in their legs warned them they wouldn’t remain upright for long. “We gotta keep moving. It's not safe to stay in one place for too long,” they mumbled, sliding down the tree until their bottom hit the ground.

“Sweetheart!” Milo called, rushing over to them and kneeling beside them. Their eyes were bleary and unfocused, making Milo’s worry grow. “Hey, what’s wrong?” His hands gripped their shoulders and he couldn’t help but shake them a bit, hoping that would be enough to snap them out of their stupor.

Aggro hovered close, worried to see Sweetheart on the verge of collapsing but unaware how to help them.

Sweetheart didn’t speak, but their stomach growled again, loud and long.

Milo thought back on all the times Sweetheart mentioned food since they had broken into his tower. Then, he realized as his heart sank, they said they broke in to steal some food. They didn’t even take any before Milo forced them to go on this journey. And then, they tried to get some at the Big Gulp, but obviously that went awry. “When’s the last time you ate?”

“Umm…” Sweetheart scrunched their eyebrows together, thinking out loud as they considered Milo's question. "Long enough. I was running for a day and a half, so not then. And before that, it was two days, maybe three, since anyone dropped off a meal before I escaped the prison, so…" They tried to keep their memories straight by counting on their fingers.

"That's way too long!" Milo squealed.

Sweetheart flinched at his outburst. "Don't have to convince me. I'm so hungry," they said, trying to keep the whine out of their voice. "R.D.U.M.P wanted a confession. They thought they could starve it out of me, I guess. Never expected that I'd find a way to escape. But once I was out, what was I supposed to do?" they shrugged. "Hunt in the forest with my bare hands? Try to find some berries and hope they didn't poison me?" They pressed their palms flat to the ground. "I found water. Figured that was more important anyway."

Milo didn't bother to answer Sweetheart's questions, mostly because he didn't have a good answer. As difficult as his stay in the tower had been, Milo never had to worry about basic necessities like food, water, or shelter. Watching Sweetheart shake and hearing their stomach periodically growl to indicate how empty it was made Milo's heart lurch.

Sweetheart's arms shook as they tried to push themselves back up into a standing position.

"No, no. Don't." Milo swiped a hand across their clammy brow. "Don't get up. Just rest for a second."

"Can't," Sweetheart refused. "We gotta…" They sighed as Milo drifted in and out of focus, blinks getting longer each time. "Gotta keep movin'," they slurred, head tipping forward into Milo's chest. The rest of their body limply followed suit, collapsing into Milo. "I gotta keep going, keep going, keep going…" They shuddered, finally giving into the exhaustion and hunger the stealth had been fighting for much too long. "No," Sweetheart berated, trying to force their muscles to obey. "No, c'mon! Get up. Get up now."

"Okay, it's okay now," Milo soothed, holding Sweetheart close. He felt a strong need to protect them from anything else, but he didn't know how to do that in the slightest. "You're alright." He hoped he wasn't lying. "Everything's alright now. I'm here with you, Sweetheart."

Aggro squeezed himself under Milo's knees to offer a bit of moral support.

"Please," Sweetheart murmured into Milo's neck, dazed and delirious. "'M n-not a trai'or. I di'n't do anythin'." A small sob shook their frame. "Lemme go."

"What?" Milo shook Sweetheart a bit to jolt them back to reality. "Sweetheart? It's me. Milo. Just relax now. I got you."

"I'm not a criminal!" Sweetheart whimpered. Their stomach growled again, this time deeper, and they curled into themselves like they were in pain from its emptiness. "Please. This izn't r-r-righ'! Y-you can't just let me starve. 'M… 'm so hungry." They groaned, squeezing their eyes shut. Regardless, Milo noticed a dampness to their eyes. "Lemme out! Please, someone, lemme out!"

Milo frowned, noting how fragile and scared Sweetheart looked in the throes of their nightmarish memories. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart.” He didn't know much about why Sweetheart was on the run, but hearing them beg for mercy like that had Milo quickly believing their claims that they were innocent. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice you weren’t feeling well before. I’m sorry I dragged you out here to play ‘road-trip’ because I was too stupid and too selfish to appreciate everything I had in my tower. I’m… I’m just really sorry.”

Suddenly, Milo's great adventure came to a screeching halt. He wished his father were here to tell him what to do or how to help Sweetheart. Milo was barely grappling with the outside world and all it had to offer. He knew he wanted to help Sweetheart feel better, but he had absolutely no idea how to do that. Maybe Vega had been right all along. Maybe it would've been better if Milo just stayed in that tower like he was told. He never imagined his recklessness would do harm to anyone else, especially someone like Sweetheart. Milo sank back on his heels. He felt small, stupid, and helpless. He felt like he was proving his father was right.

Sweetheart needed food if they were going to recover their strength and they needed it now. Slowly and carefully, Milo helped Sweetheart lean back against the tree. Sweetheart's exhausted sigh turned into a groan of pain as their empty stomach rumbled again.

Before he even knew what he was doing, Milo leaned over and kissed Sweetheart on the forehead in an attempt to calm and to comfort them. He carefully observed how they relaxed a bit at the touch of his lips. When Milo felt the rough bark brush against his hand, he quickly removed his jacket and wadded it up so it could act as a pillow for Sweetheart's head to give them a bit of protection from the elements.

The act of removing the jacket sent an idea through Milo's head.

Like Sweetheart said, they couldn't hunt for food.

But Milo could.

Well, technically. He had never hunted before, but how hard could it be?

Back in his tower, Milo shifted fairly frequently to keep his magic healthy and flowing, though he always did so under the eye of his watchful father. Vega coached Milo since his powers manifested, always reminding Milo to fight every instinct his inner-wolf might feel as a means to keep safe and hidden.

Even so, a myriad of wolf-like mannerisms always persisted within Milo, one of which being the need to escape his tower for a hunt on the solstice. Milo has always considered those lingering impulses to be evidence that there might have been some truth to the townspeople's opinions of him as a dangerous, vicious monster who was subject to the whims of his wolf-form. Every time Vega reminded him to quash that part of himself, Milo felt ashamed.

But today, Milo was rapidly realizing, today, his innate, primal instincts might be what saved Sweetheart's life.

Milo plucked Aggro up from the ground and placed him on Sweetheart's chest. "Stay with them," he told the cat. "Keep them safe. I won't be gone long." He began to shimmy out of the rest of his clothes as he made his way deeper into the first.

Aggro yowled frantically, hopping off of Sweetheart before striding over to Milo.

"Aggro, c'mon, buddy." Milo scooped Aggro up and deposited him back on Sweetheart. "You gotta stay here. They need you." He gave Aggro a few chin rubs of encouragement. "Don't let me down."

Aggro meowed forlornly. He didn't like the idea of separating from Milo at all. Ever since Aggro had been brought to Milo's tower when he was a scrawny kitten, the duo had never been apart. They were best pals. Aggro knew he belonged at Milo's side, especially now in this big, new place.

"I won't be long," Milo vowed, reading Aggro's mind flawlessly. "How hard could hunting be? Just gotta channel my inner-wolf, right?" Milo's lips pressed into a thin line. "Shouldn't be too hard. I hope." Milo's gut flipped over itself as he stared at the deep, dark forest. "But it's the only way," he reminded himself. "Don't worry, Aggro. I'll be okay. I'll steer clear of anyone." He gave Aggro one last kiss on the forehead before he stood. "Stay," Milo reiterated. "I'm depending on you to guard them while I'm gone."

Aggro planted his bottom onto Sweetheart's chest, flicking his tail to signal he was ready to stay with the stealth just as Milo asked. He was, after all, a guard cat.

“Thanks, buddy,” Milo grinned. “You’re the best cat out there. You know that?”

Sweetheart almost stirred a bit at Aggro's movements, but they found it impossible to rouse themselves out of their stupor.

After making quick work of stripping, Milo laid his clothes on top of Sweetheart's still frame and Aggro to give them a bit of extra protection in his wake.

"I'll be back soon," Milo winked. "With enough food for us all."

In a flash, Milo shifted into his wolf form. He arched his back and flexed his large muscles to get used to his wolf body. Even in these dire circumstances, shifting gave Milo a high unlike anything else. He stretched every bit of his gray, fur-covered body, from the tip of his snout to the end of his tail.

Aggro didn’t flinch. He was more than used to seeing Milo in his wolf form.

Sweetheart finally got their eyes to open back up again, though the ache in their head and the dizziness was making it difficult to keep their eyes open for very long. It was a small fraction of a movement, so small that not even Aggro noticed. Sweetheart stared plainly at the wolf in front of them, trying to make their normally rapid mind make sense out of what they were seeing.

Clearly, a shifter, given his size. The gray wolf wasn’t particularly large, but that didn’t undermine the sheer strength and spirit that ementated off of him. Sweetheart forced their head up, shuddering at the effort it took as they squinted against the sun.

It was Milo's eyes that gave him away. That confirmed for Sweetheart without a doubt that the wolf in front of them was none other than Milo.

Milo turned around in circles a few times, trying to determine the best course of action for his hunt. He gave Aggro one last half-growl-half-whine to say goodbye before he darted off into the woods to hunt for whatever he could find and somehow make his way back to Sweetheart safely and quickly.

“A shifter?” Sweetheart mouthed incredulously. Despite their tenacity, Sweetheart lost the battle with consciousness and felt themselves pulled back into dull insensibility. “He’s a shifter.” They let their head fall back into Milo’s jacket and let the force of gravity shut their eyes.

The scent of burning meat was the first thing Sweetheart became aware of as they awoke. Then, they heard the distinct crackling of a fire. And finally, when they pried their eyes open, they saw Aggro dance around Milo's legs excitedly as he lowered a piece of meat to the ground.

"Mhmm, here you go, buddy," Milo told the cat. "Eat up. I know it's not the gourmet stuff you're used to, but you can't get any fresher than this."

Aggro began to devour the meat noisily. He didn't give the slightest indication that he thought the food was anything less than gourmet.

"Hmmm," Sweetheart sighed, rubbing at their temple. "That's a new development." They placed their feet flat on the ground, knees to the sky. Milo's jacket was still stretched across their body like a blanket, though the rest of his clothes were back on his body and only slightly wrinkled. "Though not an unwelcome one."

"Sweetheart!" Milo gasped, hoping he could keep the worry out of his voice. "Hey, you're awake." He dashed over to them. "Perfect timing. I just pulled this off of the fire." He presented a stick with a piece of charred meat impaled at the end of it. "It ain't fancy, but–"

Sweetheart didn't even let Milo finish his offer. Too hungry even to put up a pretense of civility, they snatched the stick out of his hands so they could bring the meat to their mouth. They took big bite after bite, barely remembering to chew.

Milo glanced away, feeling like he was intruding. He occupied himself by looking at Aggro, who seemed to have better table manners than Sweetheart. “Not too fast,” he cautioned. “I know you’re hungry, but you don’t want to make yourself sick.”

Sweetheart heeded the reminder. That was the last thing they needed. "Thank you," Sweetheart clumsily said, increasingly aware and embarrassed of the fact that they were ripping into the food like a starving animal. "Th-thank you." They covered their mouth to hide their chewing, but they did not stop chewing for a second. "I guess I didn't realize how hungry I was." They swallowed. "I don't think I would've made it to Dahlia without this. I don't think I would've made it another step, to be honest." The stealth shrunk into themselves a little bit. “Aren’t you going to have some? I don’t want to eat our only supply.”

Milo waved off their gratitude. "There's no need to thank me.” He shrugged. “I ate before you woke up.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. Milo did eat his fill before Sweetheart came back to consciousness, though he had done so as a wolf. Milo’s hunt had been an extraordinary success. Not only had he brought back enough food for Aggro and Sweetheart, but he had also dug into his inner-wolf in ways that he had never allowed himself to do before. It was freeing, although the idea of never getting to do so again was already making Milo’s anxiety double. “Besides, I’m the one making you take this impromptu road trip. The least I can do is buy you a meal.”

Sweetheart snickered, grateful Milo was so understanding. “I’m the cheapest tour guide around,” they added. “Although it’s not like this… Ummm…” They held up the empty stick. “What was this anyway?”

Milo paled. “Some venison and some quail.”

“Not bad,” Sweetheart evaluated. “It’s not like you really had to buy them. You hunted, right? I saw you shift just before I passed out.”

Milo froze, his blood running cold. “What?” he panicked. “No! I mean…” He backed away from Sweetheart. “I mean, what do you mean? You’re mistaken. Maybe you were hallucinating.”

“No, I saw you shift,” they maintained coolly. “I know some shifters can get a little nervous about people seeing their wolf form, you don't have to be. Really. I thought you were the most majestic wolf I’ve ever seen.” They finished off the last piece of meat.

“I wasn’t! I didn’t!” Milo hurriedly insisted. Aggro quickly launched himself onto Milo’s shoulder when he heard the distress in his voice. “I-” Milo dropped his shoulders. “What do you mean ‘some shifters?’”

Sweetheart blinked owlishly. “What do you mean what do I mean?” They cocked their head to the side. “Isn’t that part of your culture?”

“What culture?” Milo pressed. “Stop talking in riddles and answer my question! What other shifters do you know?” He seized Sweetheart by the collar.

Aggro growled, puffing out his fur.

“What do you want? A list?” Sweetheart yelped. “Fine! Well, there were a couple shifters on my squad. Booker. Linda. Miguel.” They lifted a finger for each name. “And then there was a family who lived down the street from me when I was a kid. But I forgot their names. It was a long time ago, okay?!” The words tumbled out of Sweetheart’s mouth as they tried to appease Milo, who only looked more angry by the second.

Stunned, Milo released Sweetheart from his grip. “You’re lying,” he accused numbly.

“Why would I lie about this?” Sweetheart burst. “For one thing, I don’t lie. For another, why are you acting like it’s so weird I know of other shifters? It’s not. At all. This isn’t some stratified, classist land, you know. This is Dahlia. That antiquated stuff hasn’t been welcome here for decades.” Sweetheart lowered their voice. “And I won’t let that change.” They snapped their fingers. “And, y’know, of course, the Shaw Pack! They’re the royal family of Dahlia. Of course I know them. Well, not know-know them. But I know of them. Everyone does!”

Aggro hopped off of Milo’s shoulder just before Milo hunched forward and took his head in his hands.

“You… It… What?” His breath began to quicken. “That can’t be. That just can’t be!” Milo felt like his whole world was crashing down upon him. “Other shifters? The royal family? But how!? I thought… My dad, he told me…” He kept trying to suck in more air, but it was like the faster he breathed, the less oxygen he took in. “I thought shifters were hated. Killed on sight. Outcasts. H-how can th-they rule D-d-dahlia?” Droplets of sweat broke out along Milo’s forehead. "This doesn't make any sense."

At Milo’s rapid breathing, Aggro began to rub all along Milo ankles and shins. The cat hated to see Milo get too worked up like this, and he tried his best to help ease his human’s anxiety.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Sweetheart soothed. “Just take a few deep breaths with me, alright? Slow and even.” Sweetheart modeled such a breath. “You can do it. Look at me, hmm? It’s just me and you here. I'm right with you.”

Milo struggled to match Sweetheart’s breath. He did as they asked and managed to gaze into their eyes. He didn’t understand why, but looking at Sweetheart did help him catch his breath. Milo continued to elongate his breath until the tingling feelings in his hands and feet disappeared.

“That sounds better,” Sweetheart praised. “How do you feel?”

“Better,” Milo confirmed. “But confused. Very confused. You’re telling me that shifters are part of Dahlian society? That the leader of the kingdom is a shifter himself?”

Sweetheart slowly nodded. They did not want to set Milo off again, but they respected him too much to lie. “Yes. Why are you convinced that being a shifter makes you an outcast?” The wheels in Sweetheart’s quick mind began to turn. “Is… Is that why you live in that tower? That’s why you obfuscate your aura? Because you think you have to hide away from people?” Sweetheart shook their head in disbelief. “Because you think they hate you for who you are?”

“My dad said living in the tower was for my own protection,” Milo explained as he nabbed Aggro and held him close to his chest “That if people knew I was a shifter, they’d think I was a monster. They’d hunt me down, kill me, mount my head on their wall. That’s why I was abandoned as a baby. That’s why… Dad, he…” Milo tried to make sense of this information. “Dad must’ve been mistaken. If what you’re telling me is true. He must not realize that other wolves live freely. Was it all a mistake? It has to be a mistake. That’s the only possible explanation.” Milo did not sound completely convinced of that fact, but Sweetheart could tell that was an issue that would be best left alone for now. “First he tells me empowered people can’t do healing magic, which wasn’t true because at the pub, I saw that Sam guy heal his friend. And now I’m supposed to believe that shifters are just walking around Dahlia, like it’s no big deal? I don’t understand!” He gripped the tips of a few curls and yanked like the sensation would help him think through the conflict facing him.

“Look, Milo, I…” Tentatively and giving Milo a look that asked for permission, Sweetheart reached out and lightly touched Milo’s knee to get him to stop pulling on his hair. “I don’t know what you’ve been told or not told. I don’t know who in their right mind would ever abandon you, especially as a baby, and I’m really sorry that happened. It's rare, from what I know. Usually, family is very important to shifters. To abandon a child? That’s horrible. But I can tell you that shifters aren’t hated or hunted down or anything like that. You’re safe to be who you are.”

“Safe,” Milo repeated, like he couldn’t quite imagine what safety and security would even feel like in his own skin. “So you… You don’t mind that I’m a wolf? At all?”

“No!” Sweetheart answered emphatically. “You being a wolf doesn’t make you a monster just like my being a stealth doesn’t. We’re empowered!” Sweetheart winked. “Our magic shows up in our bodies in different ways. Gives us different abilities. But magic is magic. And, it’s not even like magic-users are in their own class or something. Lots of unempowered people live in Dahlia, too. In fact, both mates of the Alpha and Beta are unempowered. So, see?” Sweetheart quizzed. “Lots of different people in Dahlia, and no one gives it a second thought.”

"Alpha and Beta," he repeated. The words felt in his ear and on his lips, but despite that, Milo couldn't help but feel intimidated at the labels. Milo absently gave Aggro some ear scritches to keep his hands busy and out of his own hair. “You don’t think I’m a monster? Or a freak?”

“Absolutely not!” Sweetheart squeezed Milo’s knee in support. Not to mention that they didn’t want Milo to slip away from them into what appeared to be a panic attack. “You strike me as a lot of things, Milo, but not a monster,” they winked. “And like I said, there are plenty of wolves in Dahlia, so it’s not like you’re the only…” Sweetheart raised their eyebrows dramatically.

“Don’t say it,” Milo groaned.

“I’m gonna say it,” Sweetheart warned, earning a groan from Milo. “A lone wolf.”

“You said it,” Milo grumbled. He gave Sweetheart a playful punch to the shoulder. “Look, Sweetheart, this is a lot for me to take in, okay? A lot.” His mind was reeling at what Sweetheart was telling him. “You have to understand, my dad told me every day for as long as I could remember that me being a shifter was dangerous. Was something to hide. And he took care of me, raised me, loved me when no one else did. Dad loves me. He must've not realized that about Dahlia. Or he's suspicious of it? There has to be some reason he’d make me stay in that tower and tell me all those things. There just has to be.”

Sweetheart shrugged. “I don’t know anything about that, and I won’t pretend that I do. But if you say so, then that’s that.” The stealth was about to move away to let Milo contemplate and digest what they were telling him, but when they started to shift backwards, Aggro swiped his paw in a subtle gesture to get Sweetheart to stay right where they were.

“Oh, someone’s an attention-seeker,” Milo quipped, squishing Aggro’s fuzzy face between his thumb and forefinger. “You’re going to have to give him a few pets or else he won’t stop.”

Sweetheart had no problem with that. Aggro purred in approval as they rubbed under his chin. “What a charmer,” they scoffed. From the context of the conversation, Sweetheart was talking about Aggro, but they stared at Milo as they made that comment.

Too deep in thought to notice that, however, Milo focused on how to move forward after Sweetheart had rocked his world. “Wow,” he gasped. “I never thought anyone would ever know I was a shifter. And now, look. You know. And it’s so weird to think that you know.” He shivered a bit. “Today is full of surprises.” He paused thoughtfully. “A good surprise,” he amended. “Don’t get me wrong. It just kinda feels weird that you know this deep, dark secret about me and I don’t even know anything really about you. I didn’t know you were a criminal or anything. It didn’t even dawn on me, even though we only met because you broke into my home. I…” Milo trailed off when he saw a stony expression overtake Sweetheart’s gentle smile. “Never mind.”

“No, you’re right,” Sweetheart relented. “You’re completely, absolutely, one-hundred percent right. I…” Sweetheart bit their tongue. It wasn't often they trusted someone to let them into the nooks and crannies of their life, especially after what had happened in their life recently. They didn't owe Milo a thing. He didn't ask. And even if he did, they had every right in the world to tell him to mind his own business.

So why didn't they just say that and move on?

Why did they feel a deep, growing need to spill their guts and let Milo know of every knot that tangled up their body and mind? Why did they trust this man? He had no real conception of the world. He was completely sheltered, naïve, and absurdly optimistic. Milo was everything Sweetheart wasn’t.

Maybe that was why they couldn’t stop themselves from what they were about to say.

“No, no,” Sweetheart sighed. “You’re right. It’s not fair that I know this very personal thing about you but you don’t know much about me. So let me fix that.” They pressed their lips into a thin line. “I’m not a traitor. Or a thief. Not really.” They dug through one of the inside pockets of their jacket and pulled out a glittering R.D.U.M.P badge. “I’m an investigator. Or at least, I was,” they grumbled, shoving the badge back into their pocket. “Someone might as well know. And, not to brag or anything, but I was one of the best.” Looking at the badge put a half-smile on their face that made Milo’s heart flutter. “A few months ago, I started digging into some paperwork that didn’t add up. Perps were being let free on technicalities. Evidence was mishandled. Criminal records weren’t being updated. The patterns couldn't be a coincidence. There was something wrong. Very wrong.” Sweetheart’s hard gaze took a faraway look as they shared with Milo. “And even though it wasn’t technically my business, I just had to stick my nose where it didn’t belong.” They tapped on the tip of their nose. “It’s not as big as those wanted posters make it out to be, but it’s still pretty in-your-face, isn’t it?” they joked. “So, anyway, I gathered up all the intel I needed, started rooting around some late nights, made good use of my cloaking powers, and finally, I found out that there was corruption in our ranks. And not just a dirty cop or two taking a bribe, although that would’ve been bad enough. But I’m talking real awful stuff. Treasonous stuff. I even found out about a plot to overthrow Alpha David’s reign and replace it with some cultish, pseudo-scientific group called ‘CloseKnit.’ They’re looking to drag Dahlia back into the stone age and undo the peaceful life we all love. The life I swore I would do everything in my power to protect.”

Milo sat and listened silently. Aggro plopped down in front of Milo to do the same.

“I couldn’t exactly pin the source of the corruption, but I couldn’t wait around for something to happen when I could’ve spoken up and maybe stopped it. So, I did exactly what I was supposed to do. I reported it to my supervisor. I handed over every scrap of work I had and was assured that ‘it’ll be all taken care of.’ The next day, the Deputy of R.D.U.M.P. calls me into his office. His name is Blake. A dreamwalker. He’s a real big-wig, works directly under Alpha David. He’s got this obnoxious little mustache that looks like he drew it on with a pencil. But anyway, not important. I thought Blake was going to tell me I did a good job. That I would need to testify at a hearing or something. That I saved Dahlia from what could’ve been a chaotic, dangerous time.” Sweetheart laughed mirthlessly. “Instead, he told me to forget everything I had found out. He tried to intimidate me into dropping the case, and said if I’d agree to turn a blind eye, he’d promote me. Blake advised me to be ‘loyal’ and to ‘stay out of affairs that don’t concern me’ and that I’d be rewarded generously if I could ‘keep my big mouth shut.’”

Milo gasped. “And? What’d you do?”

Sweetheart rolled their eyes. “Well, not that,” Sweetheart answered wryly. “Big surprise, right?” The stealth shook their head. “That’s when I realized that Blake was that source. He’s leading the charge for CloseKnit. He wants a return to a classist, militant, antiquated society under the guise of anarchy. And frankly, he’s in a position where he could achieve that with patience and strategy. That’s what worries me.” They idly brushed their hand along the grass. “And as soon as I refused Blake’s little offer, he called in some of his own private guards and had me arrested on the spot. He accused me of being the one commiting treason. All the paperwork was confiscated. Probably, it was all going to be altered to hide CloseKnit's existence and made to look like I was the one involved in criminal activity. And that’s why I was thrown in prison.”

Milo shuddered and clutched Aggro a little bit closer. “You were framed.”

“Bingo,” Sweetheart snarked. “And as you can imagine, some of Blake’s goons just so happened to be the ones guarding me. That’s why I wasn’t given any food. Blake wanted a confession. That would be quick and clean. No one would be the wiser about his activity. The last thing he’d want was for me to go to trial. That’s why I had to escape. I knew that if I didn’t break fast enough for Blake’s liking, he’d take matters in his own hands.

“He’d kill you to keep you quiet,” Milo said. "That's murder."

“It was awful in that cell, Milo. Just awful.” Nodding, Sweetheart dropped the smirk off of their face. They hadn’t wanted to dwell on just how close they had come to death. "The cuffs don't let you access your powers. The cell was so small and dirty. The guards would taunt me endlessly or just ignore me. I'm not sure which of those things drove me out of my mind more. I just couldn't believe after all the work I'd done to protect Dahlia, that imprisonment was the result of it. After all my work, all the sacrifices I made to do my job and keep Dahlia safe for everyone, I was going to die in some prison cell, with everyone thinking I was a traitor and a thief and who knows what else?" Sweetheart shivered at the memory. "It seemed too cruel to be possible."

Milo's face fell as he listened to Sweetheart's true tale.

“Blake’s soldiers are strong, but thankfully, they’re also stupid. The first chance I got, I pickpocketed the keys to the magic-muting cuffs, phased out of my cell, stopped off to pick up the paperwork that incriminated Blake, and ran. I just… ran away.” Sweetheart crossed their arms over their torso protectively. “I didn't know what to do. I didn't know where to go. I knew if I tried to get an audience with Alpha David, Blake would just capture me again, so I ran into the forest. I figured, once I got R.D.U.M.P off my back, I could find a way to reach the alpha. I just know if Alpha David knew what was going on, if he saw all the evidence I’ve collected against Blake, he’d put a stop to him. He has to!” Sweetheart burst. “He has to,” they repeated stoically. “But meanwhile, as I try to undertake this little solo-mission, all of Dahlia's guards and trackers are out looking for me because Blake has publicly denounced me as a traitor, a thief, and who knows what else.”

Milo took in a ragged inhale. “That’s why you were so concerned with that knapsack back at the tower. It’s got the stuff you need to take down Blake.”

“Exactly. He's a threat to Dahlia. This cannot continue. And, hopefully, clear my name,” Sweetheart added. “I was a decorated investigator, and to have my name dragged through the mud like this? To be labelled a traitor to the kingdom because I tried to do my duty and protect that kingdom?” Their eyebrows knit together. “It’s not right. It's not fair. I still don’t know how I’ll get the chance to talk with Alpha David once I retrieve that paperwork and make my way back into Dahlia once the solstice festival is done. All I know is that I have to find a way.”

“Wow,” Milo marvelled. “I guess both of us were hiding some big secrets.”

“You can say that again.” They stretched their legs long out in front of them before pushing themselves back up to stand. “But, having that plan come together is something for future-me to worry about. Right now, we’ve got to get moving so we can get you to the solstice festival.” Sweetheart proffered their hand to help Milo up from the ground. “C’mon. I’m plenty refreshed after that feast you got for me. Let’s get moving.”

“I…” Milo faltered. “I don’t know. Maybe we should just turn around and let you get on with your mission. I had no idea you were doing something that important. Me wanting to celebrate the solstice seems so…” He shrunk into himself a bit. “Selfish. Unimportant. Petty. Stupid.” Milo repeated all the adjectives Vega had used to describe his dream.

“It’s nothing of the sort,” Sweetheart rejected. “Don’t say that. You’re none of those things, Milo. You’re…” They shifted their weight from foot to foot. “You’re really brave. Venturing out into the world like this? And so smart! Using your wolf form to hunt when I was practically wasting away in front of you?” Sweetheart whistled. “And that was when you were under the impression that being a shifter was something that could get you killed. Despite that, you still chose to help me. I’ve never heard of anything less selfish. And not only all of that. You're kind. Kindness is a rare type of bravery, you know, when you use it to help.” They looked deeply into Milo’s chocolate eyes, admiring them just as they had when they had first met him. This time, they let themselves linger in his gaze. "We've got to get you to Dahlia to see the festival. You deserve a fun adventure."

“Only if you’re sure I’m not getting in your way,” he compromised.

Aggro weaved through both Sweetheart’s and Milo’s legs.

“We’re pretty close to Dahlia anyway,” Sweetheart informed him. “No sense turning all the way back around now. And beyond that, the solstice is a very important event for people like us, Milo. And you deserve to celebrate it. It’s been years since I’ve celebrated it, too, because I’m usually working anyway.” They turned their face away from Milo. “And, who knows? Depending on how things pan out for me, maybe this is my last shot to celebrate a solstice in Dahlia. So today, celebrating is exactly what we are going to do.”

Before Sweetheart realized what they were doing, they took Milo’s hand in their own. Milo’s heart leapt into his throat when a zap of energy spasmed through his core at Sweetheart's touch.

“Not to mention,” Sweetheart added with a bit more levity. “You deserve to see that people in Dahlia will accept you for who you are. That’s why I think when we get to Dahlia, you shouldn’t hide your aura anymore.”

“Let them know I’m a shifter?” Milo wavered. “I don’t know…”

Sweetheart squeezed his hand. “You’ll be safe. I promise. Please, will you trust me?”

“Yeah.” Not even the sternest lecture from his father could have deterred Milo from doing as Sweetheart asked when they spoke to him so kindly and sweetly. Maybe the little nickname he assigned them was more apropos than Milo realized. “I trust you,” he confirmed. “So, lead the way, Sweetheart. Let’s go celebrate us a solstice!”

Chapter Text

Thinking back on Milo’s mood swings after leaving his tower, Sweetheart had been a little bit nervous that bringing him into town might overwhelm him. Once the hustle and bustle of Dahlia entered their view, Sweetheart grew even more nervous, wondering how they might best prepare Milo for his grand public debut without scaring him.

It was ironic that when they began their journey, all Sweetheart wanted to do was scare Milo back to the safety of his tower. And now? They felt a fierce desire to protect him from every possible threat he might ever come across during their excursion.

This time, however, it was Sweetheart’s fears that were unfounded.

As soon as they arrived in time, Milo was delighted by everything. A wide, toothy grin was plastered on his face as he took in the sights and sounds of the town. He could barely contain his excitement as he weaved in between people (actual, real-live people!) to make his way through the town square. Dahlia was fully decorated for the solstice, with streamers and lights all perfectly placed along the buildings. It was a colorful, beautiful sight that Milo had only ever imagined. A small ensemble of musicians played at the center of the square, offering an invigorating soundtrack to the day. Every shop and restaurant was prepared for the solstice, offering sales and warm, welcoming smiles to potential customers. Milo dashed in and out of every store to look at everything they had to offer, chattering away as he excitedly pointed everything out to Aggro.

But what was most amazing to Milo was that he did it all without altering his aura. Every empowered human and d(a)emon had full opportunity to note that Milo was a shifter. No one screamed that he was a monstrous embarrassment. No one accused him of being dangerous. No one tried to hurt him. No one cared in the slightest. They just all went about their day, bargaining for the best price on a wagon wheel, planning the menu for their solstice dinner, or dancing to the music that sang out from the ensemble’s performance.

Milo was safe and free to walk among the citizens of Dahlia. He was enjoying himself so much, he forgot to wonder why or how Vega would ever tell him doing so was dangerous.

Sweetheart followed close behind Milo, dodging the occasional royal guard and surreptitiously pulling down every wanted poster, no matter how inaccurate the portrait was. Even if they wouldn’t admit it out loud, they were having a lot of fun, too.

“This is amazing,” Milo beamed, twisting his head around to catch every sight. “It’s exactly how I imagined it would be, and yet, it’s all somehow even better!” He took a bite of the soft pretzel in his hand and offered it to Aggro.

Aggro sniffed the pastry, but declined to taste it.

Sweetheart laughed at the exchange before finishing off the cookie they had purchased from a local baker. At first, Sweetheart thought they could get away with stealing a few of the cookies. The baker, whose name was Geordi, according to his name tag, was clearly quite occupied with a mental discussion taking place between him and his telepath partner that was listing all of the pretzel toppings from which Milo could choose.

"Cutie!" the baker giggled. "C'mon, we're in front of customers," he said aloud to respond to whatever was happening in his head.

Cutie only shrugged, probably talking telepathically if Geordi's scandalized expression indicated anything.

Even with the opening, Sweetheart just couldn’t bring themselves to commit even that petty crime. Instead, they tossed a few coins onto the counter as they selected a large chocolate-covered cookie from the shelf. As they ate, Sweetheart silently noted how different Milo seemed as he chatted people up as they walked around the town. Milo was confident. Self-assured. Happy. Sweetheart could’ve watched Milo like that all day.

Milo pointed to a group of people gathered near a large wall that ran diagonally across the town square. “Hey, what’s that?” Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed Sweetheart’s hand and yanked them over to get a closer look. Sweetheart stumbled forward into Milo as he led them to the wall. His grip on them was strong, but gentle. It was a tactile promise that he’d keep Sweetheart close only for as long as they wanted to be, though they were welcome to slip out of it any time they wanted.

Sweetheart’s hand stayed tucked in Milo’s hand as they strode towards the commotion.

The wall was completely covered in a bright, multicolor pattern of swirls, diamonds, and the Shaw Pack’s half-moon crest. The sidewalk leading up to the wall, as well, was similarly decorated. Sweetheart and Milo stared at the eye-catching art. When they looked closely at the wall, they admired the beautiful patterns. When they refocused their eyes to take in the whole mural, those intricate patterns fused together along the area to form a joyful scene of people living their day-to-day lives in Dahlia. Some artists were still adding to the monumental mural, touching it up as the large clock in the town square ticked away to count down the official start of the solstice when the moon rose that night.

"Hi, there!" a voice jubilantly greeted as Milo and Sweetheart took in the artistic coloring of the wall and under their feet. "My name's Caelum! What's yours? What do you think of our picture? Isn’t it amazing? We’ve been working on it for so long!”

Milo noted the curl of Caelum’s horns and correctly evaluated that he was an empathy daemon. “It looks beautiful!” Milo told him, matching the enthusiasm that radiated off of Caelum. “I love all the colors. It’s really nice to meet you, Caelum. My name’s Milo.”

“You’re doing a great job with this mural,” Sweetheart added after they introduced themselves. “Looks awesome!”

“Thanks!” Caelum smiled. “I’ve been working on the moons that run along the bottom all day. Watch!” The empathy daemon closed his eyes and waved his open palms at the wall. Pure magic shot out of his fingertips and crackled along the mural, leaving little moon-shapes trailing along the edge like a border. Each one was a different color and blended into the next. Purple to blue to green to yellow to orange to red to pink and back to purple.

"Whoa," Milo gasped. "You're really good at that."

"It's nothing really," Caelum shrugged off. "Creating art helps people feel good, and when the magic helps, the magic's easy!" Caelum noted Milo's confusion. "It's kind of like healing magic for humans. A healer has to want to help to get the magic to work."

"I wish I could heal," Milo mumbled. "I didn't realize it would even be possible. I thought only d(a)emons could heal, like my dad. He's really good at healing magic." Milo thought back on all the times when he was a child and ended up with a bump or a bruise. Vega always healed him quickly and fully without even having to touch him. Sometimes, Vega barely had time to admonish Milo for his clumsiness or carelessness before the healing was complete.

Though Vega always found plenty of time afterwards to lecture Milo about his shortcomings.

"Well, healing magic is more complicated and more difficult for humans, but our friend here is right. Wanting to help is the most important thing," Sweetheart gently corrected.

Milo's eyes widened. "You know how to heal?"

"In a pinch," Sweetheart explained.

"That's so cool," Caelum gushed.

"Sure is, Sweetheart," Milo added. "I've always been fascinated by healing magic. You're full of surprises, aren't you?"

Aggro poked his face out of the corner of Milo’s jacket to get a closer look at this new person talking with Milo and Sweetheart.

“Aw, is that your cat!? Caelum chirped. “He’s so cute. What’s his name? Can I pet him, please please please?”

“Of course you can,” Milo confirmed, plucking Aggro from his shoulder and holding him out so Caelum could reach Aggro’s fur. “He’s really friendly. His name is Aggro. He’s my best friend.”

Caelum giggled as he pet Aggro. “Aggro, your fur is soft!” Caelum gestured over to another artist, who was standing on their tiptoes and using telekinesis to direct a few different paint brushes well above their reach to paint an array of stars. “Look!” he called to his friend, who Sweetheart and Milo recognized as a freelancer. “A cat! Do you want to see him?”

The freelancer let the floating paint brushes drop to the ground without a backward glance. “So cute!” they said. “What a good little kitty.”

Aggro purred as he soaked up all the attention.

“The mural looks great,” Sweetheart told Freelancer. “My friend and I were just telling Caelum how amazing it looks. You and he are very talented artists.”

“Thanks,” Freelancer said shyly. “It was an honor to be part of the team commissioned by the Royal Shaw Pack to create the piece. And it’s such a wonderful piece that celebrates everyone who calls Dahlia home.” They turned to Milo, wiping a bit of sweat from their brow and unknowingly leaving a faint line of blue paint across their forehead. “So, will you be watching the hunt tonight?”

“Hunt?” Milo queried.

“Yeah!” Caelum exclaimed. “The hunt for the lost wolf. See?” He pointed to a section of the mural that depicted a small wolf cub surrounded by a circle of howling wolves.

"It's a major part of Dahlia's solstice festival," Freelancer added. "You must not be from around here if you didn't know about it. The whole Royal Shaw Pack gets together to search the forests for a wolf who was stolen shortly after birth. If you make your way out to the river outside of the town, you can watch the pack make its way through the forest. The trees rustling as they all move, the howls, and sometimes you catch a glimpse of the wolves themselves. Watching is a very interesting experience. Plus, it's a way for the kingdom to support our leaders. We can't join them on the hunt, but I think they appreciate the fact that we're there, rooting for them as they search for the lost pack member."

Caelum nodded, encouraging Aggro to show his white belly so he could rub it. "It's really sad that he's missing. Everyone wishes he'd come back home to his family."

"Poor guy," Milo noted. "Knowing you have a family waiting for you and not able to find your way back to them sounds terrible. How long has he been missing?"

"A long time," Freelancer answered.

Sweetheart chimed in, "A few years before I was even born."

"It's more of a commemorative event now, I suppose," Freelancer sighed. "At first, for years, the Royal Shaw Pack held daily and nightly hunts looking for the stolen wolf pup, but as time went on, well, it's less likely that the hunt will ever be successful. No trail, no scent, no leads.”

Milo let his eyes drift to the scene of the wolf pup above Caelum and Freelancer’s shoulders and stared intently. It was like he couldn’t have pulled his eyes away from the painting if he tried. With a start, Milo realized that the pup in the painting looked just like him. Same short gray fur. Same thick coat. Same kink in the fluffy tail. Same short but formidable build. And most notably, the same piercing brown eyes. “Is that what the missing pack member looks like?”

Caelum shrugged. “I don’t know. No one does, because he was stolen away so young.”

“It’s just the way he’s always portrayed in the imagery the kingdom has distributed,” Freelancer supplied. They pointed to a figure of a woman further to the side in the corner. She was performing healing magic on a person’s head. The love and comfort she offered the patient didn’t undermine the strength and fierceness of the character. “His mother is the Head Royal Healer and I think it’s based partly on her wolf form and the way she imagines he might look. Mothers have a good sense about those things sometimes.”

Milo concentrated on the face of the woman featured in the healing scene. He felt like he had seen her somewhere before, but that was impossible. He shrugged off those inane thoughts and paid attention to Sweetheart's conversation with Freelancer and Caelum.

Sweetheart frowned. “I can’t imagine how sad she must be this time of year. Well, any time of year, but especially now.”

“It’s a testament to her strength that even after all these years, she still holds out hope that she’ll see her son again. Our Royal Healer has done so much for the health and wellness of the whole kingdom. Not just the Royal Family. Marie holds clinics all across the land, she advocates for medical advancement and research in the universities, she helps anyone who wants to become a healer seek training, whether or not their specialty conventionally lends itself to externalizing magic like that. I only wish someone could heal Royal Healer Marie’s grief the way she’s had a hand in healing so many of us.” Freelancer let Aggro sniff their hand before joining in the petting with Caelum.

"Royal Healer Marie does have a lot of knots. And they aren’t the easy kind to untangle. But, we can always have hope," Caelum said solemnly. "Hope helps people in the same ways my magic helps people."

Sweetheart nodded thoughtfully. “You’re right, Caelum. I think it's important that the kingdom never gives up hope. I hope the fact that the whole kingdom joins them in remembering the lost wolf is a small comfort to the Royal Pack.”

“Caelum’s a young daemon, but he’s got a wisdom beyond his years.” Freelancer patted Caelum’s shoulder. “And who knows? Maybe next year, we’ll be celebrating the lost wolf's return instead of holding another hunt.” They squared their shoulders. "Like my boyfriend always says, stranger things have happened."

"Ain't that the truth?" Milo playfully scoffed. Still, he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that came over him when he looked at the image for too long. It was as if doing so brought his own wolf form close to the surface, but Milo pushed it back down to prevent an involuntary shift. He chalked up the eeriness to the power spike that hit on solstice. It had to be a coincidence.

Caelum nodded. “I’ve never heard Gavin say that before, but it sounds like something he would say.” Aggro started to give Caelum a few little love bits as he brushed his fingers along the cat’s belly. “That tickles!”

Sweetheart perked up at the familiar name. “Gavin?” they repeated. “Gavin as in the owner of the Big Gulp? He's your boyfriend?”

Freelancer nodded. “That’s him.”

“He’s a friend of ours. Gavin's your boyfriend? You’re a very lucky person,” Sweetheart commented.

Freelancer agreed, “He reminds me of that every day.” Their tone alone told Sweetheart how deeply they were in love with the incubus. “Well, as nice as it was to meet you, Caelum and I should really be getting back to our work,” Freelancer sadly reported. “We only have a few hours left before sundown, and we want everything to be just right.”

“Oh, you’re right!” Caelum yelped. “Goodbye, Aggro!” Caelum kissed the cat on the tips of his ear and waved. “And goodbye to you, too!” he told Milo and Sweetheart. “Maybe we’ll see you again during the festival. Or some other time after the festival.”

“We hope so,” Milo winked. He wished that could’ve been true, though he knew that soon enough, he’d be back in that tower with no chance to see anyone anymore. The realization filled Milo with a bittersweet nostalgia, like he wasn’t even done celebrating yet, but he already missed it. “See you later, Caelum."

Milo and Sweetheart waved goodbye to their new friends before they walked along the sidewalk.

“You… you were right,” Milo whispered. “Everyone all day has been able to sense my aura and they don’t care. They don’t care at all! And the ruling family, the Shaw Pack,” he recalled, stumbling over the name a bit. “Everyone speaks so highly of them.” He wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or to cry at that realization. “How could my father be so wrong about the world?” Milo turned that question over and over again in his mind, but he couldn’t come up with anything that even slightly resembled an answer. “Why would he think all those horrible things about Dahlia and shifters?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Sweetheart shrugged.

Milo and Sweetheart strolled along the sidewalk together in comfortable silence, taking in every bit of fun that the festival had to offer. Aggro also took the chance to do a little bit of exploring on his own, though he stayed quite close to Milo to avoid being separated.

They wandered through the town and stopped at all the shops and pop-up booths to chat with the merchants. They shared a dance when the ensemble played an upbeat song. Sweetheart nearly flicked into invisibility when they felt Milo press closely into them as they danced. For those few minutes, it was like the rest of Dahlia disappeared into oblivion, leaving only Sweetheart and Milo as they rocked and swayed as one unit.

When the song ended, both Milo and Sweetheart stayed close even after the last notes faded into the air. They stayed together, neither one willing to do or to say anything that might make time start moving again.

Someone else’s voice, however, cut their moment short when it rang out even above the din of the festival.

“Boats for rent!” a vampire hawked under a blackout tent in front of the docks. “Get the best view of the hunt tonight! Hear the wolves roam the forests of Dahlia during the most important hunt of the year! Boats for rent!” The vendor stood in front of a large sign with huge red letters in a curly font that read ‘Adam’s Boat Rental’ and ‘Best Prices in Dahlia Guaranteed!’

Milo gave Sweetheart a sly look. “What do you say?”

Sweetheart hesitated. “Fine,” they relented, throwing their hands in the air. Their reluctance was all for show. A boat ride with just them and Milo sounded like the perfect way to cap off the way had turned into the very best day of their life. “I’m no match for those puppy-dog eyes of yours.”

Milo gasped like he had been wounded. “I do not have ‘puppy-dog’ eyes,” he insisted as they made their way towards the docks.

Keeping himself hidden from the idiotic masses that crowded the sidewalks, Vega searched the streets for any sign of Milo. It was much too difficult for him to track his son with the high volume of people all packed into the same space. Finally, he caught a glimpse of Aggro chasing a stray leaf that blew in the wind, which meant that Milo couldn’t have been too far behind.

Vega paused. If he confronted Milo here, how in the world could he ensure that Milo would return to him at the tower? The last thing Vega wanted to create was a commotion. He needed Milo isolated away from whomever this meddling stealth was. How did they find Milo? Why would they agree to parade him around the festival? How much of his very careful conditioning had they undone?

Vega had many questions. What he needed was answers.

Rather than confront Milo immediately, Vega decided to bide his time. He knew that if he could craft just the right circumstances, he could toy with Milo enough and have the young shifter on his knees, helplessly begging to return to his tower.

And of course, if that failed, Vega had other ways of forcing his food back into its cage.

But how was he to find Milo amidst all this chaos of the festival?

A gust of wind came up against his face, blowing a half-ripped document into his forehead. Vega snatched the poster between two long fingers and skimmed it with his eyes. To his utter delight, he realized that the person featured on the poster was the very same stealth he had seen with Milo at The Big Gulp, although Vega hadn't realized their nose was quite so large and oddly shaped.

“Oh,” he grunted maliciously. Vega materialized into his human form, plastering a sickly smile onto his face as his plan formed in his head. “Oh my, my, my, my darling Milo. Whatever have you gotten yourself into? Cavorting with a known criminal, the most wanted fugitive in all of Dahlia?” He folded the paper carefully and stuck it into his pocket. “What choice do I have as a fine, upstanding, Dahlian citizen but to report this to the proper authorities? Those R.D.U.M.P. dunces will no doubt have every tracker on the fugitive’s tail. They’ll lead me right to Milo! Oh, how absolutely, preciously perfect!” he grinned. He took out the poster and kissed the picture of Sweetheart on the mouth. “You don’t even know what a huge favor you’ve done for me, Traitor,” he cackled. "It's a shame I won't get the chance to thank you for your service."

Vega was concentrating so hard on the poster that he bumped right into Caelum.

“Watch where you’re going!” Vega huffed, brushing himself off even though he hadn’t fallen.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Caelum informed him plaintively. “I’m standing here. And you walked into here. And since I was here, you walked into me.”

“Obnoxious little empathy-daemon!” Vega growled. “You’re lucky I’m in a hurry. If I didn’t have more important matters to attend to, I’d show you a thing or two about respecting your elders.” He pushed past Caelum, mumbling to himself as he backtracked to reach the group of Royal guards he had seen posted around the entrance to the town square. “Maybe when I’m done with Milo, I’ll come back here and teach you a lesson.”

Vega was already down the street and out of earshot before Caelum knew what to respond or how to react. “That was mean!” he complained to Freelancer. “Did you see that guy? He ran into me, blamed me for his mistake, didn’t apologize, and then walked away all mad. He didn’t even look at the art we made!”

“Some people are like that,” Freelancer remarked. They clicked their teeth. “Don’t let his bad mood ruin our fun day. Forget about that loser.”

“Yeah, I will!” Caelum declared. “I’ll forget all about him!” He resumed his painting. “But.” He dipped his head to the side. “Don’t you think it’s weird he knows Milo? And that he was so angry with Milo? Milo seemed so nice. And Aggro, too. Why would someone be so angry at Milo?”

Freelancer bristled. “Milo? What’s he have to do with this?”

“That sadism-demon,” Caelum explained. “He said when he was ‘done with’ Milo, he’d teach me a lesson. What do you think he meant by that? I hope it doesn’t take too long, whatever it is. I don’t want him to be around Milo any more than he has to.”

“That’s… strange. You don't have to worry about him getting anywhere near your again. I'll make sure of that.” Freelancer pushed their mouth to the side, deep in thought. “Very strange about Milo though.” They flickered their wrist to return their paint brushes to the collection area at the corner of the mural. “And worrying. I’m sure it’s nothing. And probably none of our business. Although…”

“Maybe we should tell someone so they can tell Milo,” Caelum suggested. “Like, for protection.”

“We can’t tell a guard,” Freelancer pondered. “After all, the guy hasn’t done anything to Milo. There's nothing to tell. Not really. But why should we wait around for him to maybe do something to Milo?” They tapped their cheek with their finger thoughtfully. “That stealth said they were friends with Gavin. Do you think Gavin would want to know about a friend being in trouble?”

“Definitely!” Caelum proclaimed.

“Then as soon as we finish here, let’s head over to The Big Gulp and tell him," Freelancer proposed. "We don’t need to rush, after all. I’m sure we’re just being over-cautious.”

Freelancer surveyed the section of the mural they and Caelum were responsible for.

“We’re about finished here, wouldn’t you say?” they said, the rush in their voice betraying their attempt to seem nonchalant.

“Yup!” Caelum nodded. “It looks so good.”

“So good,” Freelancer genuinely agreed. “Well, I guess now we’re free to go tell Gavin what we saw, right?”

“Alright, alright,” Beta Asher mumbled to himself, counting heads as the Royal Shaw Pack filed into the hall. “Christian’s here. Samra’s here. Arden’s here. Tyrone’s here.” He scanned the room one last time, ensuring everyone was present and accounted for. “We’re all here!” Asher announced, drawing everyone’s attention to the front of the room. “Welcome, everyone. Welcome to this year’s Solstice Hunt. We’re so glad you could make it to this special event at a time when we come together as a family to celebrate our magic. I’ll hand things over to our alpha.”

Asher took his seat next to his mate, who gave him a small thumbs up at his speech. “You did great, Honey,” they complimented, knowing public speaking was difficult for Asher.

“Thanks, Babe,” he whispered back. Asher fell silent, along with the rest of the room, when David stood up from his seat to address his pack.

“Thank you, Asher,” David acknowledged. “You’re right to say that this is a special event at an important time in all our lives. It’s truly amazing to see all of us come together during the solstice. When I look at all of you tonight, I can feel the strength of our pack bond. I can feel the love and loyalty we all feel for the citizens of Dahlia we serve and for each other.” David glanced at his mate for a fraction of a second, soaking up the support and encouragement that radiated from them. Galvanized by their steady presence, he cleared his throat as he turned back to his pack. “I’m grateful for each and every one of you, not just for the work you do for our kingdom, but for who you are as individuals. It’s an honor to be able to call you all my family.”

The entire Shaw Pack clapped and cheered. After they settled down, David resumed his speech.

“Though even on nights of joy and celebration like this one, we do not forget the family member who was taken from us all those years ago.” David’s eyes cast to Marie, who sat next to Angel. She was subdued, sullen, but trying valiantly to put on a brave face for the pack as they all prepared for the hunt. “We miss him every day. That is why we gather together for this hunt. To bring Milo home where he belongs. With his family.”

Marie, along with the rest of the pack, nodded. She wiped away a tear from her cheek as she stood. “Thank you, David,” Marie proclaimed evenly. “Thank you, everyone. It means so much to me that you choose to search for Milo. I know it’s been a long time since he was taken. I know that the odds…” She faltered a bit but pressed on. “The odds of finding Milo are not good. But, the fact remains is that he is my son. He’s out there somewhere. I know he is! My boy’s out there. I can feel him. I just can’t find him. I miss him. I… I’ve missed him for far too long. We all have. I would do anything, anything at all to have him here with all of us now.” Her hand clenched into a tight fist.

Angel reached their hand out to cover Marie’s first with their palm. The alpha-mate’s gesture encapsulated the emotions that every Shaw Pack member felt. "We all would," Angel softly consoled.

“Thank you, dear,” Marie told Angel. “And thank you, everyone, for coming out tonight. For having come out every solstice since Milo’s disappearance. It means the world to me. To know that I can depend on you for help?” She patted her chest. “Well, it warms this healer’s heart. I love you all, even if I do give you an earful when I heal you.”

When Marie became too choked up to speak, David quickly stepped in to save Marie from feeling like her grief was on display. That was an experience David had come to know shortly after his father passed away, and he certainly was not going to let a pack member, especially one as beloved as Marie, feel that way when he could do something about it.

“We’re family,” David declared, regaining the attention of the crowd. “This is what family does for family.” He pointed to the map of Dahlia that hung on the wall behind him. “Asher has already gone over the general plan with everyone, but as you know, we’ll adapt as needed once we’ve begun the hunt. If you have any last-minute questions, please come ask either him or me. We’re here to help. Otherwise, we’ll see you all at sundown at the edge of the forest. And again, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. Let's hope this year is the last year we'll have to hold a hunt for Milo.”

At David’s dismissal, the pack began to file out of the room. Soon enough, they’d reunite, shifted and ready to search for Milo.

Armed with his plan, which gained more and more opportunities for traumatizing Milo by the minute as he let his imagination run wild, Vega ran up confidently towards the guard he had seen milling around on the corner.

The man was in his decorated uniform and, based on the number of pins and patches that adorned his chest, he was quite high-ranking. If his uniform didn’t give him away, his distinct lack of attention to his surroundings did. “Excuse me!” he called, feigning worry. “Excuse me, Sir! Are you a guard?”

Blake turned around at Vega’s desperate calling. “I am the ranking Deputy of R.D.U.M.P.’s most distinguished squadron!” he corrected haughtily. “Not a simple guard.”

“Please, Sir,” Vega said with a performative quiver, shoving the poster into Blake’s hand. “Can you help me? Please, oh please!” he begged pitifully. “I think I saw this fugitive here on the grounds today! And I think they’ve kidnapped my son!”

Blake’s eyes widened, suddenly a lot more concerned with Vega. “This fugitive?” he asked excitedly. “You saw them? Here?” He whistled to summon Kody and a few more guards who were conducting bumbling searches in the square once they had lost Sweetheart in the forest. “Don’t worry,” he assured Vega, mustering up the professionalism he knew he needed to show. “We’ll find them and your son. Tell us everything you know.”

Chapter Text

Milo and Sweetheart paddled together along the calm, still waters of the Dahlia River into a spot that granted them some privacy. When they finally reached the perfect spot to watch the hunt. Aggro was curled up inside the boat at the corner of the floor, snoozing lazily after his big day.

“Should be starting soon,” Sweetheart mentioned as they set the oar to the side of the boat. “Alpha David is noted for his punctuality.” They were about to follow that up with a joke about Beta Asher being noted for his tardiness, but the tight lines at the corners of Milo's eyes had them worried. “Hey. You okay?” they asked, carefully scooting a little closer to Milo without rocking the boat.

Milo fidgeted, tracing the smooth wood on the boat’s edge. “I’m okay.”

Sweetheart gave him a hard, skeptical look.

“I guess I’m feeling a little bit overwhelmed,” Milo admitted. “All my life, I’ve been looking out the window of that tower, wishing and wondering and dreaming what it would be like to leave. Wondering how it would feel to celebrate the solstice like every other normal human being. And, today I did. I did because of you.” He dragged his palm along the wood until it covered Sweetheart’s hand. “I had the absolute best day I could’ve ever imagined. But soon…” His lower lip trembled. “Soon, I’ll have to go back to that tower. I always told my dad that one day out would be enough. One day was all I needed.” He squeezed Sweetheart’s hand. “It’s not!” he burst. “It’s not. How can I go back to that life, now that I know what life could be? I feel like today, when you phased into my tower, my life began.” Milo turned to face Sweetheart. His other hand floated up to their cheek. “I don’t want to go back to how things were before. So empty. So alone.”

“Milo…” Sweetheart felt their throat go dry when the curve of Milo’s fingers molded to the shape of their cheek. “You are a strong, capable wolf. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. You know that, right? You can make a life for yourself in Dahlia that doesn’t keep you shut up in some tower. In fact, I hope you don’t! Because...” Their voice dropped an octave. “Because the world is better off with you in it.”

Milo’s index finger extended up towards Sweetheart’s ear. He couldn’t tell if he were pulling them closer or if a magnetic force reeled him in towards them. Either way, he didn't care.

It took every bit of self-discipline Sweetheart possessed not to embrace Milo for all they were worth, but a niggling voice in the back of their mind reminded them they did not have the time to even think of something like that. They had a mission to complete. All of Dahlia was unknowingly counting on them. "I can't even pretend like I could imagine what it was like for you in that tower, especially if you believed setting foot out of it would be a death sentence.” They shuddered. “I mean, clearly. I couldn’t even last a few days in prison without losing my mind and breaking out.” It was an attempt to lighten up the situation, but the dark undertone only gave Milo a slight chill. “I’m glad we could make your dream a reality. You deserve that. And, that’s the fun part about dreams, you know.”

Milo looked at them quizzically.

“You can always find a new dream to chase,” Sweetheart explained. They leaned their elbows on the edge of the boat and stared up at the sky. Sweetheart couldn’t remember a time they had looked up at the sky on a clear, dark night just to see the stars. Certainly running from the law and trying to hatch a half-baked plan to get themselves an audience with the ruler of the land. Even before that, as soon as they had earned their commission into the R.D.U.M.P. 's ranks, Sweetheart had thrown themselves into their work. They spent every waking minute trying to excel at their job. Somewhere along the way, they had simply accepted the notion that their job was all they were good for.

Sweetheart hadn’t realized they’d fallen into that habit until that secure position they had coveted so strongly was ripped out from under them. As soon as they had lost their job and the reputation they spent years building, it didn’t take long for Sweetheart to see they had nothing else in their life.

As strange as the circumstances were, Sweetheart couldn’t remember a day they had had so much fun as this one they had spent with Milo. Being with him was easy. It was carefree. It was like Milo brought out a side of them that they hadn’t known existed.

It was getting harder and harder to remember that after today, they would return Milo to his tower and probably never see him again. Milo would probably go on to live a full, happy life now that he knew he could integrate into Dahlian society safely.

And Sweetheart?

Sweetheart didn’t know what the future had in store for them. Maybe they’d find a way to expose R.D.U.M.P.’s deep corruption and resume their position with their spotless reputation intact. Or, maybe they’d be caught before they could ever set foot in the castle, thrown back into prison, and live out their days a miserable, disgraced, starved prisoner, never allowed to access their magic again.

They should’ve been more concerned about that than they were. There was a time in their life when they would’ve been unable to focus on anything else, no matter who or what tried to deter them. Instead, tonight, all Sweetheart could focus on was giving Milo the very best solstice celebration so that adorable, toothy grin stayed on his face.

Sweetheart didn’t understand it, but they had no interest in fighting it.

They gestured to the sky above them. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Their chin came to rest on their free palm. “Like a million little sparkles that all came together to light the way for us tonight.”

“Yeah. Beautiful,” Milo answered in a bit of a daze, staring intently at Sweetheart. He didn’t even pretend to glance at the sky. “Like something out of a dream.”

A single howl rang out, reverberating all across the land. Alpha David was signaling the beginning of the hunt.

“It’s starting!” Sweetheart clapped with excitement.

Soon enough, more howls joined in with David’s. The howls overlapped like a melancholic chorale, each wolf joining in to call out for the lost wolf pup. Once every wolf was present and accounted for, the howling stopped.

Silence was its only reply.

“They’re waiting for the lost member to howl back,” Milo translated, surprising himself. Truth be told, he felt like he had to actively fight the urge to shift and to join the hunt, howling all the way until he caught up with the Shaw Pack. He wondered if that was an instinct that every shifter had to fight off on this day. “They’re telling him they’re on their way. Not to give up hope. That they won’t stop until they find him.” He flinched. “I didn’t realize I knew the, y’know, wolf-speak language.” He felt a little embarrassed he didn’t even have the right terminology, but he found the grace to let go of that self-doubt as soon as Sweetheart squeezed his hand a little bit harder. “I hope they find him this year.”

Sweetheart and Milo nestled in closer to one another and watched the hunt. Just as Freelancer, Caelum, and later, that obnoxious boat renter Adam, had promised them, the hunt was an incredible experience to take in. It felt stoic, yet surreal. Powerful, and yet exhausting. Majestic, and yet futile. The only thing that could’ve made it better would have been if there was a guarantee that the lost pack member would be found by the time the hunt concluded.

“That was amazing,” Milo beamed as the hunt concluded with a long, low, grief-stricken howl. He spoke softly and slung his arm around Sweetheart's shoulders. “All of it,” he continued. “Amazing.”

“I’m glad,” Sweetheart said without making an effort to move. “And you’re right. It was an amazing way to end an amazing day.”

“It’s a shame they didn’t find him, but…” Milo felt his pulse quicken. He titled his head a bit. “Everything about today was amazing. Including you.”

“Now who's being sweet?” Sweetheart laughed.

“I mean it.” Milo angled their face towards his and let his hand linger on their chin. “Everything. Sweetheart, I…” He leaned closer and noticed they were doing the same.

Slowly, Milo’s and Sweetheart’s lips drew closer, promising a kiss of passionate fireworks until a sudden wave whipped through the river, seizing their little paddle boat and yanking it to the shore. The boat moved with such vigor that Milo, Sweetheart, and Aggro stumbled out of it when they reached dry land. They tried to figure out what had happened, but before they could, an inchoate demon rifted in front of Sweetheart and thrust a pair of magical-muting cuffs onto their wrists.

“Ow!” Sweetheart cried, the cuffs already digging into their wrists and their ability to reach their magic instantaneously vanished. "Hey!"

Milo was about to lunge for the demon, who rifted away before he could even get a hand on them, but he found his feet were firmly planted on the ground. He tried to move something, anything, but it was no use. He even tried to speak, but it was like his mouth suddenly refused to obey him.

“Haha!” Kody cheered. “Sitting on a boat in water like that? You couldn't have made it easier for me.”

Milo seethed, trapped in his own body without the slightest idea as to why or how to free himself.

“Now I’ve got you,” Blake announced triumphantly. He pushed a bit of graviton magic towards Sweetheart, making them fall face onto the ground. “I’ve got you right where I want you. On your knees, at my mercy," he taunted. "What? You thought you were going to outrun me and the rest of R.D.U.M.P.?” Blake laughed maniacally. “In your dreams, you stupid stealth. Or rather, in mine. And I’m going to make sure those things are one in the same as soon as I bring you back to Dahlia.”

Sweetheart forced their body not to tremble at the horrible sensation of being caught again, but they were rapidly losing that battle.

“You are under arrest on the charges of theft, treason, and now, kidnapping,” Blake informed Sweetheart. He used the toe of his shiny boot to turn Sweetheart over so they were forced to look at him.

“Kidnapping?” Sweetheart sputtered. “I thought you were delusional before, but now you’re just talking crazy. If you want to make up reality so badly, why don’t you go hide in one of your precious little dreamsca-Ahhhhh!” Sweetheart shrieked, curling into themselves further as a blaze of pain rippled through their core.

“Reality is subjective.” Blake’s eyes narrowed. “We got a credible tip that you had kidnapped this young man, forced him to run around Dahlia with you as insurance, and that you were going to use him as a hostage to bargain for your freedom.” He wagged his finger at Sweetheart. “Not on my watch, Stealth. Sir!” He addressed Milo. “Isn’t it true that this fugitive kidnapped you against your will?”

“Yes.” The word flew out of Milo’s mouth before he even realized he was talking. No matter how hard Milo tried, he couldn’t stop. “Yes, they kidnapped me. They broke into my tower and forced me to accompany them into Dahlia. I didn’t want to go, but they made me. I was scared they would hurt me if I didn’t go with them.”

Sweetheart panted and shook, but not from Blake’s zap of pain. “W-w-what? That's not true! Milo, what are y-you saying?”

Aggro cocked his head to the side when he heard the strange tone of Milo’s speech.

“Of course you were scared,” Blake sickeningly reinforced. “They’re a dangerous fugitive. But no need to worry any longer. We’re happy to say they won’t bother you anymore.” He knelt down so that he could thrust his fingers into Sweetheart’s hair and pull hard. “They’ll be going to jail for a long, long time,” he predicted. “I’m going to make sure of that.”

“Good,” Milo coldly shrugged. “I never want to see them again.”

“I don’t understand!” Sweetheart cried. They sounded like they had just been slapped in the face. “Milo, why are you lying? Why won’t you help me? I helped you all day, and now you’re just gon-naahhhhhhhh!”

Blake stood over Sweetheart menacingly as he waved an outstretched palm to cause Sweetheart more pain. “The fugitive is resisting,” he deadpanned as Sweetheart curled into themselves and moaned pathetically. “Do you see that, Kody? Do you see their resistance to a peaceful arrest?”

“Yes, Deputy,” Kody verified, averting his eyes from Sweetheart.

“That means my use of force is reasonable and legal,” Blake explained patiently, gesturing again to impart more pain onto Sweetheart. “Isn’t that just a dream come true?”

Sweetheart rolled onto their back, hugging into themselves to escape the overwhelming torture that Blake was inflicting upon them. “Milo… please… Help me! Do something!” they tried again, but they knew it was useless. Milo wasn’t helping them at all. He didn’t even react. He stared blankly at them and watched as they writhed in agony. Maybe he was lying because he was afraid he’d be taken to prison, too? Maybe he didn’t believe Sweetheart when they had told him about their being framed? Maybe he didn't care now that he had gotten what he wanted from them? A slew of ‘maybes’ filled Sweetheart’s head, but none of them truly mattered anymore. "Help."

All that mattered was that they were bound in magic-muting cuffs, Blake was going to make good on every promise he taunted them with, and Milo didn’t seem to care in the slightest.

Sweetheart wanted to weep. They wished they’d just pass out so Blake’s assault would stop hurting, but knowing the dreamwalker, Sweetheart presumed he’d do whatever was necessary to keep Sweetheart on the cusp of consciousness to force them to feel as much pain as possible.

Milo looked on blankly, unable to do anything but stay completely still. He raged in his head and yanked at every muscle of his to do something, anything, that might help Sweetheart, but despite those efforts, he remained as still as a statue.

Blake fisted Sweetheart's shirt and roughly pulled them up to their feet. They swayed back and forth, but fought hard not to let Blake know he was weakening them. “Get this prisoner into the wagon,” he ordered Kody.

Kody responded quickly. He grabbed Sweetheart at their bound wrists behind their back so he could usher them into the R.D.U.M.P. wagon waiting a short distance away. The inchoate demon sat atop the seat of the wagon. “Move, traitor,” Kody commanded, placing one of his hands at the back of their head to keep Sweetheart totally subdued.

Hurt, scared, confused, heartbroken, and out of options, Sweetheart obeyed Kody, trudging into the cell of the wagon. They flinched as Kody slammed the metal, warded door shut, locking them into the mobile cell.

“As long as you’re not hurt, you’re free to go,” Blake told Milo. “Would you like one of my guards to escort you back to Dahlia?”

“No,” Milo refused in a small and timid voice. Inwardly, he was screaming at the top of his lungs. “I’m not hurt. I'm going to go home and I’m fine to go alone.”

“Suit yourself,” Blake shrugged, completely disinterested now that he finally had Sweetheart in his merciless grasp and contained.

Milo felt his limbs begin to move on their own accord. Suddenly, he was walking away from the scene, his body taking him deeper into the forest.

“You're very welcome for rescuing you!” Blake called over his shoulder. “Goodbye!”

Aggro sprinted alongside Milo, meowing loudly at his human’s odd behavior.

Neither Blake nor Kody gave Milo a second look. Now that they had Sweetheart in their clutches, neither could've cared less what happened to Milo.

Sweetheart, however, watched sadly as Milo strolled away. They couldn’t take their eyes off Milo until he disappeared into the trees and bushes. They were completely stunned. It was almost too much to bear. Milo had simply left them to their captivity and, likely, unlawful execution. Didn’t he realize the danger Dahlia would be in if Sweetheart didn’t expose Blake’s corrupt motives? Didn’t he understand what was going to happen to them in Dahlia? Didn’t he care about them at all?

Still dizzy from the painful magic Blake had shoved into their muscles, Sweetheart pushed those tough questions out of their mind as best they could. They had to focus on what to do next, and obviously, whatever they were going to do next didn’t involve Milo. Sweetheart tried hard, but they couldn’t come up with any viable next step. They had no idea what to do. All they knew was that Blake had won.

“Stupid,” they whispered. “I was so stupid. I let myself get distracted. I let myself get sloppy. I let myself think that he lov…" Sweetheart sighed. "I messed everything up.”

Blake walked around the wagon and tapped on the bars approvingly. “Combined with those magic-muting cuffs, these warded bars will keep you safe and sound until we can get you back to Dahlia.” He feigned a gasp. “Unless of course, en route to Dahlia, you try to escape and require me to use more force. Then, I'd have no choice but to opt for lethal methods of control.” He threw his head back and laughed. “I could only ever dream of something like that happening!”

Sweetheart scooted back into the furthest corner of the cell, bringing their feet flat on the floor and their knees close into their chest. They couldn’t access their stealth powers, but they still sought out the familiar comfort of invisibility and tried to attain it anyway they could, even if that meant curling up into the tiniest little ball.

Milo kept moving forward, putting one foot in front of the other and wondering where his body was taking him. Perhaps that dreamwalker had done something to him? After all, with the way Sweetheart was talking about him, they guy was into some pretty shady stuff. Dreamwalkers were notoriously powerful once they entered a dreamscape. Maybe he had someone put Milo to sleep and used that advantage to take control of him when he was awake? Still, Milo wondered why he would go through the motions of doing that and then asking Milo those questions. Then again, hearing him answer in that callous tone clearly hurt Sweetheart far worse than any of Blake’s magic could physically impose onto them. Milo grappled with those thoughts, frustrated that he had no way to figure anything out as he kept walking forward aimlessly. At least Aggro was right on his heels.

When he caught sight of his father waiting for him in the middle of the forest, arms outstretched for a hug, Milo did a double take. He wondered if he was stuck in a dreamscape of Blake's devising. Part of him hoped that he was hallucinating, because the last thing Milo wanted to do was tell his father he had snuck out for the day. The other part of him, however, hoped that Vega truly was there. Milo could handle punishment and disappointing his father later, but if Vega were there, maybe he would know how to untangle the mess Sweetheart was caught up in at the moment.

Aggro stayed close, sniffing the air as if to determine for Milo whether or not that truly was Vega standing up ahead. Milo absently noticed that Vega looked, for lack of a better, more demonic term, a little bit older. He stood with a bit of a slump. The wrinkles in his forehead were more pronounced than Milo ever remembered seeing. Milo chalked up Vega's tired, haggard look to worry.

“Milo!” Vega warmly called, stepping forward to wrap Milo in a hug. As soon as Vega embraced him, Milo felt control over his body return. “Oh, my dear son! I’m so happy to see you.”

“D-dad?” he asked tentatively to test out whether he had the ability to speak his own thoughts again. The immediate memories of losing control of himself like that began to get hazy as he let himself be held by Vega. “Dad!” Milo cried, fiercely returning Vega’s hug. Milo’s frayed nerves left him feeling vulnerable and he hadn’t realized how comforting Vega’s presence would be after his exciting day that turned into such chaos. “But I don’t understand. What are you…? When did you…?” Milo stuttered, a million questions at the tip of his tongue. “How did you find me?”

Vega stroked Milo’s back and ruffled his hair. “Oh, it was easy really,” he dramatically sighed. “I just used my demonic hearing to listen for the sounds of my only son off galavanting around town, putting himself in every danger imaginable despite my asking, or rather, begging, him not to. And then I followed that.”

“Oh.” Milo slumped a little further into Vega. “Dad, I-”

“Shhh,” Vega soothed. “It’s okay, Milo. Of course I know it wasn’t your fault. It was that sneaky stealth who kidnapped you and tricked you into leaving. But, rest assured, they’re all taken care of now. So come along,” He turned away but kept a firm grip on Milo’s wrist to pull him along, conveniently avoiding Milo’s puzzled look. “We’re going home, Milo.”

“They didn’t… I… What?” Milo stuttered.

“There will be time for questions and such once we’re back at home,” Vega suggested.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Milo yanked on his wrist to stop Vega. To Milo’s surprise, his father stumbled towards him. Aggro took the opportunity to hop onto Milo’s shoulder. “Kidnapped? No, no, Dad.” He shook his head. “Sweethe-” He quickly caught himself and adjusted his language. “The stealth I met, who escorted me out of the tower. They didn’t kidnap me, Dad. I asked them to take me out of the tower. In fact, I kinda forced them to. Y’see, they-”

“They are a wanted traitor with ample magical knowledge. In other words, a danger to you.” Vega’s face twisted into a snarl as he pulled Milo’s arm and began walking at a brisk pace. “But think, Milo. Just think for a minute." He trapped his knuckles on Milo's head. "You must be very confused if you think it was your idea to leave the tower. Perhaps a consequence of your traumatic day. It's natural for your brain to play tricks on you. To make things seem more palatable than they were. But, be honest, son. I can’t believe you would do something so foolish like leaving your tower. No, no, no. You’re much too timid for that.” Vega’s eyes narrowed. “Even you aren’t so stupid that you’d willingly put yourself in such a position where you could’ve been maimed! Killed! Your head, the newest wall art for some villager.” Vega gave a fake shudder. “Could you imagine? I would have to roam the land, searching for my only son to no avail!” he groaned. “How tragic for me.”

Milo blinked, digesting Vega’s presumptions. “You… think I’m so timid and afraid that I couldn’t possibly act on my own volition.” It wasn’t so much a question as it was a realization, but he forced himself to stay locked on the task at hand. He needed Vega to understand what had happened quickly so that they would have the chance to rescue Sweetheart. “I know it was wrong to sneak out. I don’t think it’s so unbelievable as all that, but whatever,” he bristled. “The point is, Dad, I wanted to leave the tower, I had the opportunity, and I took it.”

Proud of his human’s initiative, Aggro butted his head against Milo’s chin.

“And that’s not all,” Milo continued. “I have been on the most incredible journey all day!” he confessed “You wouldn’t dream of it. You just wouldn’t dream of it!” His face lit up as he thought back on the fun he had with Sweetheart. “I hid the knapsack in the cupboard with Aggro’s food and then I went to the Big Gulp and there were no scones and then we ran from Royal Guards so then I hunted for food and then we saw the mural and…” he narrated in a haphazard rush.

Vega’s eyes went wide. “You did what?”

Milo didn’t seem to register Vega’s worry. “And I’ve learned so much!” A wide grin spread across his face, totally oblivious to Vega’s growing anger. “Dad, I went into Dahlia and didn’t hide my aura. No one cared! Not one person. I think you’re wrong that shifters are outcasts. The ruler of Dahlia and all his family? They’re shifters! They’re wolves, just like me!” Milo clapped his hands together, simply buzzing to inform his father of what he thought was new, welcome information. “I know it was wrong of me to sneak out like that, and I’m sorry I did, Dad, but look at all the good that came of it. I got to celebrate the solstice and talk to so many people. Oh!” Milo giggled. “And one very important person. I met someone…” He gave a little shrug, a cautious hand hovering next to Aggro to make sure he didn't lose his balance. “Someone special.” Bringing up Sweetheart jolted Milo out of his reminiscing and reminded him that Sweetheart was in need of help after Milo had lost control over his body.

“Nonsense!” Vega declared, feeling his grip on Milo loosen with every word the shifter spoke. How could he shape Milo’s reality back into the one Vega had complete control over now? Vega’s head spun at the amount of manipulation he’d had to craft to subdue Milo again, but he knew it would be a worthwhile endeavor. “It was that stealth who kidnapped you and that’s final! I don’t want to hear about any of this anymore. Now, let’s go home.”

“What? No!” Milo refused, pulling his arm out of Vega’s grip.

Stunned, Vega turned to face Milo again. “No?” He couldn’t recall a time when Milo had ever told him. ‘no.’

“Didn’t you hear me?” Milo ground out between clenched teeth. “I said that my being a shifter isn’t the death sentence you always told me it was. Do you realize how huge that is for me? For us?” he exclaimed in disbelief at Vega’s indifference. He threw up his hands in disbelief. “You’re acting like you already knew that!” he ranted, but then shut his mouth, eyes trained to the ground.

A terrible thought dawned on Milo.

“You… knew…” The words stung his tongue. “You knew!” Milo repeated incredulously. “You knew this whole time I was safe. You knew this whole time shifters were just part of Dahlian society.” Milo felt like the fabric of his world was ripping at the seams. "It's the only explanation." He didn’t think anything could’ve been more shocking than finding out everyone in Dahlia wasn’t out to hunt him down once they caught a sense of his aura.

But this?

This was unthinkable.

“But why? Why?” he shrieked. Milo could tell his breathing was beginning to speed up again, only this time, he didn’t have Sweetheart to keep him grounded. Their absence only made him more distressed. “You kept me locked in that tower for what? For fun? I don’t understand. Why would you tell me all those awful lies? Why?”

Vega watched as Milo became more and more unhinged. He racked his brain to come up with a lie that would soothe away the knowledge that Milo had acquired. Everything was coming undone before Vega’s very eyes, but he refused to give up after he had invested so many years into Milo.

“You told me humans couldn’t perform healing magic and that was a lie,” Milo dizzily recounted. “You told me shifters were considered dangerous freaks and that was a lie. You told me everyone in the world would kill me if they were given the chance, and that was a lie, too.” A strained cry slipped through Milo’s lips. “Everything? Everything!? It was all lies. My whole life. You’re wrong about the world. And you’re wrong about me!”

“Milo, stop this incessant rambling!” Vega burst, a few more wrinkles popping across his brow and neck. “Do as I tell you and shut up!”

“It was all lies.” The urge to begin openly sobbing as he tried to make sense of his world bubbled up within Milo, but the avalanche of words wouldn’t stop pouring from his mouth. “You’ve been feeding me all these lies forever. My whole life, ever since you found me in the first when I was a baby. So of course, I just believed them, because why wouldn’t I? What reason did I have to question you? After all, you’re my dad! I-” Milo’s rapid-fire speech came to a screeching halt. Milo nearly vomited. “That story about finding me in the forest,” he shakily mumbled. “It don’t make sense. Not anymore. Why would my family leave me there if shifters aren't monsters? Especially if they were shifters themselves…" Milo's expression knitted into a frown as the wheels and gears of his mind turned. "That was a lie, too!" Milo took Aggro off his shoulders so he could clutch him to his chest. "No one abandoned me, because I'm not a freak like you claimed I was. But… but then how did you, how did I…?"

For the first time in his life, Milo saw fear cross Vega's face. His mouth opened and closed, but he truly had no clue as to what to say.

Milo began stepping backwards. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he knew that he had to get away. "You stole me?" he concluded shakily. "You stole me away, just like the lost pack member was stolen away from his family. No, no!" Milo vehemently corrected. His head began to swim in a swirl of half-formed images and memories, all of which centered on the painting of the wolf cub on the solstice mural. Suddenly, so much of Milo’s life clicked into place. All the times Vega rationalized Milo’s complete and total isolation. All the times Milo couldn’t shake the feeling of wanting to belong to a community. Even just tonight, when Milo craved the chance to howl back during the hunt as his family searched tirelessly, even after so much time had passed, holding out hope for his safe return. "No, I’m not like the lost pack member,” he seethed. Despite the anger bubbling up inside him, Milo straighted his spine and looked Vega directly in the eyes. A positively regal look cast over him. “I am the lost pack member.”

Vega swallowed, completely at a loss for words.

“Admit it, Dad!” Milo commanded. “Or should I even call you that? It’s true, isn’t it? I’m the lost pack member. It was you. It was all you! I’ve spent my entire life hiding from people who wanted to hurt me, and it turns out, all this time, I should’ve been hiding from you. You stole me from the Shaw Pack all those years ago, lied to me all my life, and apparently, thought you could keep up that charade forever, until Sweetheart finally busted me out of that prison you called a tower.” Milo gasped. “Sweetheart!” he yelped to himself, his thoughts immediately returning to their plight when he thought about how he had come to learn the truth about himself. “They’re on their way to a real prison right now. I’ve gotta help them.” Milo had given up any hope that Vega might be a resource for Sweetheart. At that moment, all Milo wanted to do was run away from Vega and never see him again. His father’s silence confirmed everything for Milo. And not only that, but he felt the truth in his heart.

He was the lost wolf.

Milo dug into his instincts that he had spent far too long trying to ignore. “The hunt. The pack,” Milo calculated to himself, still backing away from Vega. Even without any formal hunting training, Milo knew better than to turn his back on a predator. “Maybe they’re still here in the forest. Maybe I can find them!” He put Aggro on his back and began to initiate a shift, planning to run as fast as his legs would let him and howl as loudly as his lungs could manage until he reached his family.

But suddenly, Milo couldn’t shift. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. It was just like before when Blake had ambushed him and Sweetheart. Aggro, too, went completely still as he balanced across Milo’s shoulders.

“Oh, Milo, Darling…” Vega slowly strolled up to the paralyzed shifter. “Trying to shift, were you?" He clicked his teeth, reaching out to pet Milo's hair in the most condescending manner, like he was offering a needy dog one mere stroke. "A laughable, but valiant attempt.” He tossed his head back triumphantly and chuckled, clapping an outstretched hand on Milo’s shoulder and squeezing a little bit too hard. “How truly stupid you are to think I’d just let you go." Even without having fed for so long, Vega easily subdued Milo with his magic. "It’s so silly of you to think that you have the slightest chance of escaping me, no matter what you do or don't know. And where, oh where would you go, Darling?” Vega shrewdly observed. “Would you traipse along until you found the precious Shaw Pack? Beg them to help you free your new little stealth friend? Don’t be absurd!” he growled, pushing closer to Milo’s face. “That traitor will be hanged for their crimes, if they somehow managed to survive being taken back to Dahlia. Which, quite frankly, given the frenetic fanaticism of that dreamwalker, I highly doubt.” He forced Milo’s chin upward so that Milo had no choice but to meet Vega’s hard gaze.

Milo dimly realized that Vega must’ve been controlling him earlier. He wasn’t sure how or why, but he knew in his heart that Vega had conjured up that kidnapping lie to get Sweetheart out of his way so he could reclaim Milo. He knew that as a sadism-demon, Vega was capable of magical paralysis and ventriloquism, but he certainly never imagined that his father would ever subject his own son to that kind of treatment.

Slowly, Milo began to realize just how wrong he had been when it came to his father.

“I gave you everything you could’ve wanted, for your entire life. Everything!” Vega lamented. “Food. Shelter. Clothing. Education. Any activity your pathetic human heart desired. All for you, you ungrateful little troublemaker. I even let you keep that mangy beast you call a pet in our home.” He menacingly pointed at Aggro, bearing his teeth. “I was nothing but kind and compassionate to you, Milo, and this is how you repay me? Well, rest assured, things are going to change. Oh, yes, things are going to change,” Vega predicted. “If living in the lap of luxury doesn’t satisfy you anymore, then that’s fine. Perfectly fine! I’ll be more than happy to lock you back in that tower and show you the variety of other forms that sadism can take.”

If Milo could’ve moved, he would’ve been quaking in fear. He ached to rescue Sweetheart. He missed a family he had never even gotten the chance to know. And he was downright terrified at whatever Vega was planning.

“You see me as the bad guy now, don’t you? You want me to be the bad guy?” Vega smirked, motioning his hand so that he and Milo, still ensnared in his magical control, started back towards their tower. “Fine, then. Come along. I’ll give you exactly what you want. Now I’m the bad guy.”

Chapter Text

Sweetheart traced their hand along a few chips and indentations along the floor of the temporary cell that might as well have been a cage as they were transported back to Dahlia. Blake, Kody, and an inchoate demon they both kept referring to as “Warden,” were proudly predicting how they would be rewarded when they brought the most wanted traitor into Dahlia and laid their body at Alpha David’s feet.

Their body.

For about the millionth time, Sweetheart tried to stir up enough magic from the meridian to phase out of that cell, but to no avail. Their powers were completely muted. They didn’t even know why they bothered. It wasn’t like they would be able to make their way back to Milo’s tower to retrieve their knapsack and all the incriminating evidence it contained. Clearly, Milo wanted nothing to do with them now that he had gotten his day of freedom. All day long, Sweetheart had been thinking that Milo was the naïve one, but as it turned out, it was they who were much too quick to believe that he had good intentions. That he planned to honor his side of their deal. That, maybe over the course of the day, he had begun to feel something for them as they had for him.

“No chance of that,” Sweetheart mumbled. “I made a mistake, letting my guard down like that. And now, I’ll pay for that mistake with my life. And all of Dahlia will have to pay for my carelessness, too.”

Still, Sweetheart couldn’t help but wonder about Milo’s erratic behavior as he watched them be captured. How had he managed to fake the smiles that sent Sweetheart’s heart into a beating flurry? Was his terror at the potential dangers of the outside world all a ruse? Did he only save them from starvation to ensure they were well enough to fulfill their tour guide duty? Was it possible that the soft, dreamy look in his eyes when they had watched the hunt together was mere performance?

Sweetheart was so lost in their thoughts, that they didn’t notice the ways the single dirt road seemed to twist and to turn in all directions. After all, navigation was not Sweetheart’s strongest suit. That was part of the reason they had stumbled onto Milo’s tower in the first place.

No, Sweetheart didn’t have the wherewithal or the directional knowledge to realize that the dirt path Blake was blindly following had, at some point, somehow transformed into a path that led in the direct opposite of Dahlia.

The wagon came to an abrupt halt, causing Sweetheart to get thrown forward. Their face smacked into the steel bars.

“Ah, excuse me!” a voice called. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but I’m afraid we’re rather lost. Please. Could you help us find our way to Dahlia for the festival?”

That voice. They recognized that voice. It was Vincent. Sweetheart crawled forward, unable to stand upright without hitting their head on the top of the cell, so they could peer around the corner.

Sure enough, there was Vincent and his electro-partner. “I told you, I know how to get to Dahlia!” they insisted hotly. “We don’t have to ask some stranger for help! He’s clearly got more important things to do than give us directions.” Sweetheart craned their neck, trying to get a better look at what in the world was happening.

“It’s no trouble at all,” Blake smuggly grinned. He tripped the break on the wagon. “You just…” The dreamwalker looked around, only to find that he didn’t recognize the dense area either. “Ummm…” Blake frantically whipped his head back and forth from Kody to Warden, but neither of them added to the conversation. “Hmm, let me think a bit,” Blake fretted. The last thing he wanted was to look less-than-impressive in front of two citizens. “I know the way. Of course I know the way. I’m simply trying to figure out how I can describe the directions to you so that you can follow them easily.” He scratched his head, mumbling, "How did we get here? Where even is here?"

“Speak slowly,” Lovely advised. “Vincent's got great hearing, but it's suspiciously selective.”

“Well,” Blake began, sticking his thumbs in his uniform belt. “You’re going to want to go east until you hit the river…” Blake knew he was lost, but the last thing he wanted to do was admit it. And besides that, he certainly didn’t need any witnesses lurking around when he decided to follow through with his intention to make Sweetheart’s death look like it was a necessary way to stop them from escaping. He needed to send this couple away as far as they could get. “And then walk upstream until you come to a clearing,” he directed.

As deep in contemplation Blake was, he didn't even notice when Cam calmly rifted beside Warden and pinned their arms to their sides. When Warden tried to call out, Cam immediately used his serenity skills to knock them out. He gently guided their unconscious body to the ground and slapped a pair of magic-muting cuffs on their wrists.

Kody, however, did notice. “Deputy!” he gasped, trying to get Blake’s attention. “Deputy, th-” The water-elemental couldn’t get another word out before his head was pinned between a large forearm and a larger bicep. When Kody tried to squeeze out another frantic yelp, he found he couldn’t even open his mouth to get a full breath in, let alone to call out.

Huxley yanked Kody off of the wagon, easily dragging the man beside the subdued Warden. Kody kicked his legs violently, trying to break free from Huxley’s hold.

“Careful, dude,” Huxley deeply chuckled, amused at the flailing little attempts at overpowering him. “You’re gonna sprain an ankle or something.”

Sam stepped out from behind a tree to hold onto Kody’s legs so he didn’t get lucky in his struggles and accidentally strike Huxley in the skull. “I could always heal him if he did,” he offered reluctantly. “After all, we’re looking to make a jail break, not actually harm anyone.”

“Just do it, before I get tired,” Huxley said. He gave Sam a quick nod towards Kody. “I can’t hold him all day.”

Sam pushed his sunglasses down from his eyes and stared at Kody. “How ‘bout you just look right here for a second?” he gently ordered. His silver eyes morphed into black for a moment.

Kody instinctually did as Sam asked. All it took was a fraction of a second for Kody to fall under Sam’s trance. He immediately stopped resisting and waited for Sam to give him a command, his expression completely vacant.

“Mhmm, that’s right,” Sam praised, pushing his glasses back up. “Ain’t no reason to fight me or any of my friends. That’s because doing whatever I tell you makes you feel so peaceful, so relaxed, so submissive, don’t it?” he droned. “Of course it does. You want to obey me.”

Kody mindlessly nodded along with Sam. “I want to obey you.”

“Sick!” Huxley noted positively with a fist pump. He let Kody go as he watched Sam assert control over his thrall. “Trances are wicked sick.”

“Now, listen carefully. First thing I’m going to tell you to do is go right to sleep,” Sam commanded Kody. “And stay asleep until I wake you up. Do you understand?”

Kody’s head bobbed up and down. “Yes,” he answered as if in a dream. “I’ll go to sleep and stay asleep until you wake me up.”

“Perfect,” Sam confirmed. He snapped his fingers in front of Kody’s face. “Sleep!”

Kody immediately dropped into a deep sleep, completely dead to the world.

“That never gets old,” Starlight commented. “One of these days, Sam, I want to sit down and pick that brain of yours about how trances work.” The freelancer made quick work of getting a pair of magic-muting binds on Kody’s wrists. “These things come in handy,” Starlight noted, wiping their palms onto their pants. “Eww. He sure is a sweaty guy, isn’t he?”

“And slippery,” Huxley added as he pushed Kody over to Warden. “Nice job, team,” he complimented, holding out both of his hands for high fives between himself, Starlight, and Sam.

“Nice job, yourself,” Sam told Huxley.

“Totally,” Starlight winked. “Arranging the new dirt path to lead the wagon right to us? Genius.” They pointed to their skull.

“That one was all Damien’s idea,” Huxley blushed. “What can I say? I don’t settle. I like my men hot and smart.”

“And when you reach the boulder that is shaped like a tomato, you’ll want to turn north-north-west,” Blake continued, giving the worst directions that anyone, including Vincent and Lovely, had ever heard. They shared a tiny look together, ecstatic that their plan to distract Blake was going so well. They had presumed they’d need to draw his attention with an elaborate story and constant questions, but surprisingly, Blake didn’t need any prompting to spend all of his effort making a complete fool of himself.

Sweetheart warily craned their neck. They caught a glimpse of two sets of feet splayed out in the grass and judged from the Department-issue shoes that they both sported that those feet belonged to Warden and Kody.

“What the…?” Sweetheart wondered. They rocked onto their knees, but a light whisper of a voice buzzed into their air.

“Hang tight,” Lasko said. It sounded like the air-elemental spoke directly into their ear, but he was clearly using his powers to throw his voice. “And don’t say anything. We’re going to get you out of here.”

Miraculously, Sweetheart did manage to stay quiet and still so as not to draw attention to themselves, but they continued to dart their eyes around as quickly as they could to get a handle on what was going on outside of their cell.

“... to a fork in the road. Now, what’s important is that you bear left, but you have to bear left on the right side of the road…” Blake wiggled his arms to demonstrate what he meant by that nonsensical direction.

A burst of wind blew into Vincent’s and Lovely’s face, nearly knocking Lovely’s hat off of their head. “The signal,” the electro mouthed, knowing Vincent’s hearing would be more than enough for him to pick up on their cue.

“Okay, I think once we get to that point, we can figure it out for ourselves!” Vincent cut in. “Those directions were… something else. Thank you so much, Deputy.” Vincent kept Lovely close to him as they both began to walk down the path to keep up their plan. “Have a great night now.”

“You’re welcome,” Blake waved and sat back down onto the wagon. “I thought those two morons would never leave,” he groaned, finally turning to look at his travel companions. “I…” He was shocked to find himself alone. Blake quickly flexed his aura, ready to pull from the meridian at any moment. “Kody? Warden?”

In an instant, both Gavin and Avior rifted to sandwich Blake in between them. “I think you’ll find your compatriots are otherwise engaged right now.” Gavin gave a devilish smile.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to settle for us,” Avior said. He raised an eyebrow. “Shall we?” he asked Gavin.

“What? No!” Blake cried as Gavin and Avior grabbed either of Blake’s arms. The dreamwalker began to send waves of sleeping magic toward both Gavin and Avior. “Unhand me! D(a)emon scum!” he fumed, trying to twist out of their firm grasp.

“D(a)emon scum,” Gavin quoted mockingly, not at all phased by Blake’s magic or verbal vitriol. “I haven’t heard that one for centuries!”

Avior whistled. “Me neither,” he agreed. “It still strikes me as an unequivocally uncreative slur. What a shame it’s resurfacing now.”

Undeterred, Blake began to scream at the top of his lungs, “You just wait! Both of you! You’ll see! All of your parasitic kind will see!”

“'Parasitic.' What, you learn that in a word-of-the-day-calendar?” Gavin quipped. He and Avior yanked Blake off of the wagon. "I'd be surprised if you could even spell that."

“Starlight!” Avior called. “Those cuffs. We need them now. He’s a dreamwalker. I can’t knock him out until you’ve got those cuffs on. Otherwise, we’re risking a dreamscape.”

“You don’t belong in this kingdom,” Blake ranted, unable to resist the manhandling and unwilling to shut his bigoted mouth. “And I’m going to make sure every last one of you is banished from Dahlia! Mark my words! Your days are numbered. As soon as I get that bleeding heart Alpha out of power, I’ll-”

Starlight used psychokinesis to toss the last pair of magic-muting cuffs over to Gavin.

The sound of Gavin clicking the bind of those cuffs was like music to the whole crew.

“Finally! I’ve heard enough of this nonsense,” Avior scoffed. He combined a punch to the face with a powerful stream of magic to knock Blake out.

“Alright!” Gavin reported. “All clear!”

Damien and another person, one Sweetheart hadn’t met at the pub, charged towards the cage.

“Gavin, is there a key to this thing on Blake’s belt? I searched the other two, but nothing,” Damien said impatiently.

“It’s warded!” Sweetheart yelped from their cell.

“Figures,” Damien groaned. “Look, warding isn’t my strongest suit. This might take me a bit, but I’ll get you out.” He reached out to the ward with his magic, attempting to unravel the tight, intricate pattern of magic that kept the box impenetrable.

Lasko created a puff of air so that he could safely float down from the top of a tree where he had been acting as a lookout. “I’ll help, Damien! That should save us some time.” He, too, began to work at untangling the ward.

“This is taking too long!” the last person groaned. “They need to get out of this awful box now, guys!” In a flash, the person shifted into a huge wolf. They were considerably larger than Milo’s wolf form and sported a glistening white coat. Without warning, the wolf lunged at the gate and tore at the bars with a viciousness Sweetheart had never truly seen before. They snarled and growled, using every bit of their magic to tear into those bars with all of their might.

“Wow, Darlin’,” Sam called. He watched in awe of his partner’s majestic ferocity. “Careful, now. I know you’re strong, but wards ain’t nothing to underestimate.”

Lasko and Damien continued to work the ward with their magic, untangling it bit by bit.

Darling, on the other hand, had poked a few puncture holes into the ward. They snapped their jaws and clawed at the small openings. Finally, with one final chomp, they broke through the ward with their magically enhanced teeth. Once the ward had fallen, Darling latched onto one of the steel bars and quite easily ripped one off. They spit out the dented bar and went to work, yanking off another with their jowls. Then another. Then another. Until Sweetheart was free to jump out of the cell.

Satisfied with their work, Darling shifted back to a human. “There we go!” They wiped their sweaty brow and then stuck their hand out to help Sweetheart out of their cell.

When Sweetheart gratefully took their hand, Darling pulled the stealth close and squeezed their hand until their knuckles gnashed together. “Although, I heard that you flirted with Sam earlier today when you were at the pub. And if you try anything like that again, make no mistake. I’ll give your guts the same treatment I gave that ward.” Even in their human form, their grin was positively wolfish.

“N-n-no, I didn’t!” Sweetheart stammered. “I didn’t flirt with Sam. I would never!”

Darling bristled. “Oh, and why not?” They pointed at Sam, who was strolling over to them with Starlight and Huxley in tow. “Don’t you think he’s hot? Don’t you think my partner is the sexiest man alive? Don’t you think I have good taste?”

“I… I… I…” Sweetheart froze under Darling’s glare. They didn’t know how to answer in a way that both avoided appearing attracted to Sam and insulting Darling.

Damien and Lasko quit working on the now-defunct ward. “Oh, lay off of them” Damien grumbled. “They’ve obviously had a rough day.”

“I’m just kidding,” Darling sighed to Damien. “Don’t be so dramatic.” They let go of Sweetheart’s hand to help them out of the cell. “I really was just kidding,” they repeated in earnest.

“Kid all you want with me,” Sweetheart affirmed. “After busting me out of there, I’d let you wipe the floor with me.”

“Don’t tempt them,” Sam advised with a wink.

“Really, I mean it.” Sweetheart was filled with a gratitude unlike anything they had ever known in their life. They were so accustomed to being the one to fix everyone else’s problems. It was strange, but not unwelcome, for them to be the one whose problems were fixed. Sweetheart surveyed the band of friends, or rather, family, who had somehow decided they would put themselves in danger to help a complete stranger because they all felt it was the right thing to do. Sweetheart nearly buckled under the realization that this group had considered them worth the effort. “I don’t know how to thank you all. Y-you saved my life. I…”

For so much of their life, Sweetheart had taken every opportunity to ensure the only person they’d ever need to depend on was themselves. It became a self-fulfilling prophecy, and before Sweetheart knew it, they had quietly decided that it was much safer to keep everything inside and lead a solitary life. Overall, that plan was a glowing success. Sweetheart’s isolation certainly minimized risk. What Sweetheart didn’t realize until today was with minimal risk came minimal connection, minimal support, and minimal love.

Yet again, their thoughts wandered to Milo. He, too, had shown them just how astounding life could be when they made the choice to let others in. His bravery never ceased to amaze Sweetheart.

"We're happy to help a friend," Gavin shrugged off, confidently speaking for the group. The nods and assenting murmurs backed up his pronouncement.

"And even happier to have the opportunity to take down an unapologetic bigot," Avior corrected. “Did you hear the nonsense spewing out of that guy’s mouth? Unacceptable. Ludicrous. Absurd, prejudged, antiquated idiocy!” he fumed.

“Avior’s right,” Cam added. “And clearly enjoying the thesaurus Lasko gave him for his coalescence-day. The Alpha needs to be informed of this as soon as possible. Solstice festival or no solstice festival. This type of dangerous ideology is something we’ve striven to stamp out. Until today, I thought we’d succeeded.”

“Hurray!” a voice that Sweetheart instantly recognized rang out, jarring them from their memories. Sure enough, Caelum and Freelancer ran towards the stealth and surrounded them in a hug. “You’re free!” Caelum cried.

Vincent and Lovely were only a step behind Freelancer and Caelum.

“Caelum, wow, hi,” Sweetheart responded. “And you, too,” they greeted as Freelancer hugged them tightly. “Hi.”

“We’re so glad we found you on the road!” Caelum beamed. “When we ran into that mean sadism-demon in town talking about Milo, Freelancer said we’d better tell Gavin because he would want to know if you were in trouble. Turns out, everyone in the whole pub wanted to know! Isn’t that so nice of them? And then,” Caelum explained hastily. “And then, we saw you in the wagon and we didn’t know what to do, but then Damien made a face like this.” Caelum scrunched up his face deep in thought. “And he thought of a plan so we could get the wagon off of the path to Dahlia and into a trap and then we could rescue you and then we did and now you’re free!”

“I did not make a face like that,” Damien grumbled.

Huxley slung his arm around Damien’s shoulder and kissed him on the forehead. “Yes, you did,” he corrected. “You make that face all the time. It’s your ‘thinking face.’”

Damien would’ve given a nasty retort if Huxley’s lips on his forehead didn’t make his heart skip a beat.

“But wait…” Caelum looked around the clearing wildly. “Where’s Milo?”

“Milo?” Sweetheart echoed. “I… I don’t know where he is,” they admitted defeatedly. “When Blake came to arrest me, Milo starting acting really oddly. He claimed I kidnapped him, thanked Blake for locking me up, and then went into the forest saying how he wanted to go home.”

"Milo did what?" Gavin gaped disconcertingly. "That… That doesn't sound right at all."

Caelum sideled up along the wagon, spying Blake, Kody, and Warden all sprawled out on the ground. "And the sadism-demon I saw. He’s not here, either! What's going on?" He scratched a spot on his head just under his horns.

“A sadism-demon?” Sweetheart cocked their head to the side. “What does a sadism-demon have to do with this? Blake’s a dreamwalker. He was the only one looking for me. I don’t have a problem with any sadism-demon that I know of.”

“Does Milo?” Freelancer piped up. “Because I saw him in town, too. The guy was definitely a sadism-demon and Caelum told me he was absolutely sure he heard him say he was going to ‘teach Milo a lesson.’” They gently pulled Caelum away from the three criminals.

Gavin pursed his lips. “This is strange,” he pondered. “Very strange.”

“Teach Milo a lesson?” Sweetheart blinked. It was a habit they had picked up after becoming an investigator. Blinking rapidly as they thought was like a tactile way for them to shove the unrelated thoughts out of their mind as they tried to piece together evidence for a case. “Well, whoever he was, he must’ve never found us. Blake found us right after the hunt. And with the way you got him off the main road, maybe this sadism-demon got lost in the forest and never found us.”

It was a plausible theory, but Sweetheart couldn’t shake the feeling that they were missing something.

“Or,” Gavin said. “Maybe he did find you, but stayed hidden.”

“What?” Huxley wondered. “Why would he do that? If the guy had some beef with Milo, why would he bother finding him and then decide to do nothing?”

“Maybe he did do something,” Gavin clarified. He stepped closer to Sweetheart. “All d(a)emons have enough magic to perform paralytic or ventriloquist magic, but sadism-demons are especially equipped for asserting that type of influence. The way you described Milo acting…” Gavin shook his head and tentatively clapped a hand on Sweetheart’s shoulder. “That doesn’t sound anything like him.”

Sweetheart took a ragged inhale. “You think this sadism-demon guy was controlling Milo?” At the mere thought of Milo being in harm’s way, their stomach plummeted. They had been wasting time, wallowing in self-pity like a useless lump when Milo was out there somewhere at the mercy of a sadism-demon who apparently had a grudge against him. “But why?” How in the world would Milo even have upset a sadism-demon? Sweetheart thought back to each encounter Milo had had during the day with all of the Dahlian townspeople. Every single one had been positive.

That’s when it dawned on Sweetheart.

Milo hadn’t met a sadism-demon during their road trip adventure.

Milo’s father was a sadism-demon.

Somehow, he had discovered that Milo left the tower and apparently, he was going to make sure Milo returned to that tower-shaped-prison. Given the way he was manipulating Milo, Sweetheart quickly deduced that all that misinformation about shifters and Dahlia was no mistake. They didn’t know why, but they were sure that Milo’s father had purposefully manipulated him.

And now he was back there in that tower, trapped with an angry sadism-demon who planned to “teach Milo a lesson” for the heinous crime of wanting to be a part of the society that was just outside of his window. They inwardly shuddered.

“I gotta get to Milo,” Sweetheart declared. Their tone didn’t leave any possibility for rebuttal. “He’s not safe. I need to help him.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Gavin quickly said, holding out a hand. “This is a sadism-demon we’re talking about. You can’t go up against him alone.”

“Gavin makes a good point,” Damien added. “But we can’t spare anyone as we bring these three into town. Let’s get these three back to Dahlia and behind bars. I’m sure once we explain everything to Alpha David, he’ll send R.D.U.M.P. troops to help Milo.”

Sweetheart vehemently shook their head. “No, we can’t! Milo might not have that kind of time!” they exclaimed. “The problem isn’t just Blake. He’s a big problem, yeah, but not the root cause. R.D.U.M.P. is compromised. Don’t ask me how I know, okay? There’s no time for all of that. But I do know that. And the alpha will never believe me if I can’t prove it. And to prove it, I need my evidence, which is back at Milo’s tower. It only makes sense if I go and go right now.”

“I know you’re worried about Milo,” Cam said. “We all are. Slow down and think for a minute. Be reasonable. You need de(a)monic help if you want to have a chance at helping Milo, meaning that I or Gavin, Avior, or Caelum would need to go with you. Ideally, all four of us, given this sadism-demon seems quite dangerous. But we can’t risk letting these three escape.” He gestured to their captives. "We’re all going to be needed to transport them to Dahlia and to demand an audience with Alpha David. If we split up, we might be putting everyone else in danger, and we can’t let that happen. We won’t.” Cam’s voice was steady, but strong.

“You promise that’s what you’ll do?” Sweetheart eyed the group suspiciously, hating the fact that they had no choice but to counter Cam’s logical, rational, intelligent plan. “You feel confident being able to take in Blake and his crew to Alpha David without any trouble, as long as you’re together?”

“We’ll be able to handle anything that comes up,” Vincent asserted.

Lovely and Starlight quickly nodded. “And there’s no way Alpha David won’t hear what we have to say,” the electro suggested confidently.

“He’s known for welcoming discourse from concerned citizens,” Starlight noted.

“Good,” Sweetheart verified. “So, that’s your plan then, right? Promise me that’s what you’ll do? You’ll keep each other safe in case anything crazy happens on the way, take them into Dahlia, and explain what happened to Alpha David?” At least, they figured, they would not have to worry about justice being partially served. Then, they could focus all of their worries on Milo.

“Of course we promise,” Sam noted curiously.

“Sure do,” Lasko said.

Like the predator they were, Darling sensed that something was off-kilter with Sweetheart. They watched carefully, but said nothing.

“Good, good.” Sweetheart breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. Really. Thank you all so much. You’ve shown me nothing but kindness all day. And that’s why I’m sorry I can’t repay the favor.”

In a flash, Sweetheart went invisible and intangible. They began sprinting towards the tower. For once, they knew exactly where they were going. It was like their need to help Milo overrode their lousy sense of direction. “I’ll meet you in Dahlia!” they promised between breaths, using their illusory magic to throw their voice. It was a rare, but useful, skill that kept stealths from being detected. “With Milo! I promise!”

With that, Sweetheart fled.

For a moment, it was like time stopped. Everyone stared blankly at each other, all wondering how one stealth could escape a sex-demon, a serenity-daemon, an inchoate-demon, an empathy-daemon, two freelancers, two vampires, an electro-energetic, an air-elemental, a fire-elemental, an earth-elemental, and a wolf shifter to enact a sudden, haphazard plan that would probably turn into a suicide mission.

"What do we do now?" Caelum quaked.

“Well, I suppose there's only one thing to do,” Gavin surmised ruefully. "We keep our promise and hope they do the same."

Chapter Text

“Milo!” Sweetheart called frantically as they approached the tower. They bypassed the ward easily, fuelled by desperation and strength. They ascended the stairs in a full sprint, taking two at a time. “Milo, are you here?” they shouted, phasing into the room. This time, it looked like the place was abandoned. “No, no, no,” Sweetheart fretted. “I’m too late.” They wavered on their feet. “No, Milo…”

Sweetheart got so caught up in the wave of turmoil that overtook them, they didn’t even notice when Vega, dragging a bound and gagged Milo at his heels, materialized behind them and stuck a kitchen knife into Sweetheart’s body. Pain exploded in their gut and they collapsed to their knees, disoriented and shocked.

Milo had been struggling against the thick, heavy magic-muting chains and tight gag over his mouth since Vega had forced him onto him. Once he saw Vega stab Sweetheart, his efforts tripled. He pulled and bucked against Vega’s tight grip on the utterly dehumanizing leash he held mockingly. The thick, chain link collar squeezed Milo’s throat with every move. “Mhhmhmhmmmhm!” Milo grunted.

“Oh, now, look what you’ve done, Milo!” Vega dramatically declared, using telekinesis to place the bloody knife back in the kitchen. He gave Sweetheart a chilling look of indifference and stepped over their prone, bleeding body to yank Milo away as he tried to crawl towards them.

"What…?" Sweetheart tried to orient themselves as they tried to hang onto reality. "My side hurts." It wasn't clear if Sweetheart heard that they said the last part out loud. "So much blood… I can't…"

But Milo heard them. He heard every bit of pain and confusion in their voice. The thought of Sweetheart bleeding and hurting choked him far more than Vega's magic-muting collar and leash ever could.

“But don’t worry, Darling. I’ve made sure our little secret will die with them. Just look at them! A positively human wound like that?” Vega cackled. “No one in their right mind would ever suspect a demon would kill with such a primitive method. Although, I quite admit, I do enjoy the fact that I get to watch them bleed out. Perhaps I shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss every facet of human culture. I‒”

Milo found a little bit of give in Vega’s vice-grip and took advantage of it. “Eeeee’arrrrrrr!” He darted forward, straining every muscle to crawl his way forward to Sweetheart.

“Ah-ah-ah!” Vega admonished. He tugged hard on the leash, stopping Milo in his tracks. The metal chain creaked and groaned at the pressure. “Not so fast.” Vega slowly drew the leash in. “As for us, we are going where no one will ever find you again!”

Milo choked and sputtered at the sudden loss of air.

Appalled and protective over his best friend, Aggro zoomed forward. He sunk his teeth into Vega’s ankles and clawed with all his might. The growls that erupted from Aggro’s mouth were loud, low, and positively wolfish.

Vega shook his leg violently. “Insipid little vermin!” he seethed, his movement sending Aggro flying across the room.

“Gr’oooohhhhhhhh,” Milo cried, heart breaking when he heard the ‘thump’ of Aggro bouncing on the floor.

The gray cat managed to land on his feet, but he was dazed, confused, and otherwise unable to give Milo the help he needed.

Vega used both hands to keep Milo still. “Really, Milo!” he heaved, trying to hide how hard he was working to restrain the shifter. “Enough already! Stop fighting me!”

Amidst Milo’s struggles, his gag came undone. “No!” he exclaimed, kicking his legs to scoot away from Vega. “No! I won’t stop. I won’t. For every hour of every day of the rest of my life I will fight. I’ll resist. I will do everything I can to get as far away from you as possible!” He guzzled breath after breath, exhausted after the constant fighting but not at all ready to back down yet. “But,” Milo continued softly, a bit of that rage draining out of his posture. “If you let me heal them, I will go with you.”

Sweetheart writhed on the floor. “N-no,” they groaned through clenched teeth. “No, Milo.”

Milo forced himself to ignore the pain evident in Sweetheart’s voice. “I’ll never run. I’ll never try to escape,” he vowed. “Just, please, let me heal them.”

“Heal them?” Vega balked. “Why would I do a stupid thing like that?”

“Because if you let me heal them, then you and I will be together forever,” Milo promised. His brows pushed into a divot at the center of his forehead. “Just like you want! No struggles. No resistance.”

His brown eyes bravely met Vega’s yellow glare. Milo recognized how strange it was to look into his father’s eyes and feel so disconnected from him. Amidst that confusion, however, Milo noticed how much older Vega looked at that moment. Once Vega had admitted what he had done to Milo and why, the shifter was doing his best not to give Vega the emotional sustenance he craved but it was difficult for Milo to keep his emotions in check with Sweetheart so close to him and so gravely injured.

“Everything will be the way it was before today,” Milo pleaded. “I’ll go wherever you go. I’ll stay wherever you put me. I promise! Just like you want. But only if you let me heal them.”

“Y-you c-can-n’t do th-that!” Sweetheart coughed out. “L-let Milo g-go,” they pathetically tried to order. They didn’t care that they had no authority. All they wanted was a guarantee that Milo was safe. “Lemme stay. In his pl-place,” they humbly offered. “To feed. F-f-forever.” Sweetheart rolled onto their back, trying in vain to find a position that might lessen the pain at their back and the growing pressure on their chest. “Th-that’s wh-what this w-was all ‘bout, ri-ri-right? I s-s-see now. I see what you d-d-did to him.”

Still holding onto the leash, Vega gave Sweetheart a few small claps. “Well done, Investigator,” he gleaned. “Oh, yes, Investigator. I know all about you,” Vega winked. “You were quite the little go-getter at R.D.U.M.P., but alas, your thieving, treasonous ways caught up with you.” His thin smile grew longer. “An admirable quality of I do say so myself. You’ve figured out my little game here. What a shame you won’t be able to share that knowledge with anyone.” Vega jutted his chin to wrench Sweetheart's head back by pulling on their hair with his magic. “Why should I settle for a mere snack like you, when I can have the feast that Milo gives me, year after year after year?”

“Please, Dad,” Milo begged. He bowed his head in defeat. This was his last chance. “Please let me heal them.”

“What on Earth do you mean, son? You don’t know any healing magic.” Vega clicked his tongue with faux-sympathy. “Isn’t that just a kick in the head? You’ve lamented not being able to heal for years in this tower, and now, your lack of knowledge is going to be what kills them?” The sadism-demon laughed hysterically, practically giddy when he thought of the implications of his rhetorical question. Sweetheart may have been the one Vega stabbed, but his words twisted a knife into Milo’s gut. “That would just break your weak, pathetic, fragile heart, wouldn’t it?” Vega shrugged nonchalantly. “And then for someone like you to have to live with that guilt? Why, it’d absolutely eat you alive, Milo. My mouth waters just thinking about it.” He snapped his fingers to release Milo of his magic-muting binds and put them onto Sweetheart. “Fine. Go ahead. Give it your all,” he mocked, barely holding back snickers. “But if you try anything else, I’ll snap their neck before you can even lift a finger. You’ve got thirty seconds.”

Sweetheart coughed and gagged. Their weight of the cuffs prevented them from even trying to get a hand over their wound to staunch the blood flow. Their knees bent slightly so that their feet were flat on the floor and they failed to hide the fact that they trembled.

In a flash, Milo was at Sweetheart’s side. “Sweetheart!” He swept his hands all over their body, unsure of what to do. Milo combed his hand through their hair, helping them sit up into his chest. He sought to ignore how cold they felt against him. “I’m right here, Sweetheart. I got you.” Before long, Milo’s hand dropped to their cheek, while he inspected the bleeding, gaping wound and the pool of blood that grew on the floor beside Sweetheart.

It was so much blood.

“I’m so sorry,” Milo soothed. All of this was his fault. If only he had stayed in his tower, none of this would have happened. Milo would have given anything to turn back time. Sweetheart had opened his eyes and shown him all the possibility that the world held, but Milo would’ve gladly glued his eyes shut for the rest of his life if it meant Sweetheart never got wrapped up in the mess he made. “But it’ll be okay, I promise. Everything’s going to be alright now.” He flattened his palm over Sweetheart's wound to stop the blood flow. “I can do this. Trust me.”

“No, n-no, Milo,” Sweetheart whined. They made a feeble, futile attempt to push Milo away. All he did was hold them closer. It was all they could do not to lean into him harder. “ Y-you have to go. G-get aw-away. Run! Now's your chance! I can’t l-let you d-d-do this.”

Milo froze. “But I can’t let you die,” he argued fiercely.

“Y-you can’t g-g-go with him.” Sweetheart shot a twisted glare at Vega. “Th-that’s worse than death.”

“Shhhh.” Milo stroked his thumb across Sweetheart's cheek, swiping away what he hoped was a bead of sweat and what he feared was a tear. “It’s all going to be okay.” He took a deep breath, willing himself to suddenly learn the complex process of healing magic.

But it wasn’t, Sweetheart realized. Nothing was okay. Nothing would ever be okay again if Milo returned to the lonely, desolate imprisonment that reduced him to the mere food source of a sadism-demon who apparently wanted to play by his own rules. They had to figure out a way to get Milo to leave them and escape to freedom. Sweetheart knew their life was almost done and they were trying their hardest to make peace with that. But Milo’s life had just begun. Sweetheart refused to let it end.

“Milo…” they whimpered, wiggling their chained hand up to Milo’s face. “Please… G-go…”

Enraptured by them, Milo brought his forehead closer to theirs, offering any comfort he could through his touch.

Vega stepped forward. “Time’s up,” he reported, putting his hand on the back of Milo’s neck, as if he were going to pull Milo away by the scruff of his neck. “What a pity, Milo. You didn’t even try! I can’t say I’m surprised.” Vega squatted to put himself at Milo’s eyeline. “You’ve always been a weak, scared little puppy, Son. A cowardly, stupid, insecure whelp who wouldn’t know what to do with even the teeniest tiny bit of freedom. That’s what I made you. That's who you are. And that's who you'll always be."

Milo’s blood boiled at Vega’s words. Maybe yesterday, he would have agreed with Vega. He would have shrunk into himself and nodded. He would have been repeating Vega’s words over and over again in his mind for hours. He would have resolved to try harder to be better. He would have chastised himself for letting his father down. He would have wished he had it in him to be more like Vega.

But no more.

Milo’s eyes flickered to Sweetheart’s injured form. They struggled for every breath, but at least they were still breathing. All day long their courage, strength, and tenacity had inspired Milo. And now was the time for him to show them what he learned. Sweetheart’s life depended on it.

“No,” Milo refuted. He eased Sweetheart back against the wall, loath to let them go. “No, that’s what you tried to make me into. A weakling. A coward. A shifter afraid of his own wolf form.” He shook his head. “But that’s not who I am. You failed, Vega. I'm braver and stronger than you know. I'm capable of so much more than you ever dreamt. I'm… I'm…" Milo raised his chin. The soft light of the tower reflected off of his face, adding a predatory glint to his eyes and the bit of teeth that shone through his smile. “I’m part of the Royal Shaw Pack.”

Milo shifted on the spot, emboldened by the power and magic that surged through his veins as he gave into the instinct to shift. Milo had been so used to pushing down his emotions and ignoring his instincts, even when his wolf within begged and pleaded to externalize. Today, Milo indulged those emotions and instincts. Bravery. Strength. Protectiveness. Survival. Self-Worth. In his wolf form, he found them all.

In fact, Milo had been so decisive about the shift, and Vega so foolishly lax in anticipating Milo’s resistance, that the sadism-demon couldn’t do a thing to stop him. Not to mention, Vega had not fed from Milo since he had forced him back to the tower. The sadism-demon had been so concerned with neutralizing Milo and figuring out where to bring him next that he had not bothered to feed. For as much as he mocked Milo for his alleged weakness, Vega couldn’t remember a day where he had let himself grow so weak. He had presumed there would be ample time and, once Milo was whisked away in chains with no means of escape, ample despair and self-hatred that would sustain him weeks. “No, no!” Vega commanded, finding even his most intimidating tone to pale in comparison to Milo’s vicious snarls.

Milo did not heed his father’s order. Instead, he leapt at Vega, teeth bared and claws out.

All Milo wanted to do was get Vega away from Sweetheart, to make him rift away so that he would leave them in peace as Milo tried to heal them. Milo knew for a fact Vega would never let Sweetheart leave that tower alive, no matter what he had said. He needed Vega gone, for Sweetheart’s sake.

Vega was shocked at Milo’s ferocity. He stumbled backwards to avoid Milo.

From his corner, Aggro batted a jingle-ball so that it rolled under Vega’s foot.

“Ah!” Vega cried, falling flat on his back as his foot slid along with the jingly ball. Vega tried to summon a bit of fire-magic to deter Milo, but he didn’t have the control needed to direct the fire more than a few meters before it died out. “Stay away! Stay away!” This was not part of his plan at all. He had captured Milo all those years ago as a treat to himself, but now, this was getting utterly difficult. Steeling himself, Vega reached for a bit of magneto-magic to put up a forcefield that would keep himself safe from Milo, but even something as easy as that sputtered out in a second.

Milo crouched down, looking ready to spring for Vega’s throat.

All other options spent and his energy nearly depleted, Vega realized he only had one choice. “You may have beaten me now, but you’ll never be able to save them! Their death will be all your fault!” Without a backward glance, he rifted far away and left Milo alone in the tower to watch Sweetheart's life drain out before his eyes. That thought was Vega’s sole comfort as he disappeared. The sadism-demon was not completely sure where the rift would take him because he was so tired and performed the magic quickly and under duress, but he hoped that it would be far, far away from Milo.

Milo blinked, barely able to believe that he had stood up to Vega’s manipulative bullying and won. As he shifted back into his human form, he could’ve cheered.

Until he heard Sweetheart cough again. This time, the sound came from deep within their chest and trailed off into a moan.

“Sweetheart, Sweetheart!” Milo scrambled back to their side. They weren’t propped up against the wall anymore, unable even to hold themselves upright. “No, no, no, no, no,” rolled off of Milo’s tongue as he gathered them up into his arms and pulled them into his chest. “Sweetheart,” he softly crooned, letting their head use his thighs as a pillow.

Sweetheart panted and gulped, struggling to breath but trying their very hardest. Their eyes lazily circled around the room, just barely reaching over Milo’s shoulder, before they began to close again.

“Look at me, look at me!” Milo begged. He quickly unclasped their bindings and cast them across the floor. “I’m right here. A-a-and I’m going to heal you. I’m gonna heal you right now, okay? Just keep your eyes on me. Stay right with me, Sweetheart” He brought a hand down onto Sweetheart’s wound. “C’mon, c'mon!” he groaned. He didn’t even know what he was supposed to do, but he tried to do it nonetheless. “You saved me. And I’m gonna save you now. Caelum said you have to want to help when you heal. And when the magic helps, the magic’s easy.” Tears formed at the brims of his eyes. “I want to help. I want to help so bad. Nothing’s happening! Why is nothing happening? Please, I want to help!” Milo’s voice cracked as he bit back a sob. “When the magic helps, the magic’s easy. When the magic helps, the magic’s easy…” he began to chant brokenly.

Aggro waddled over to Sweetheart's splayed out feet, offering a few healing headbutts.

“Milo.” Sweetheart reached a tentative hand towards Milo’s face. He instantly caught it and held on for dear life. For their life. “It’s no use.” They forced their eyes open to grant themselves one more look at Milo’s chocolate eyes, the first thing they noticed about him when they had met, which felt like a lifetime ago. “It’s okay. Not your fault. R-really. It’s b-better this way.”

Milo’s lips began to tremble and a tear cascaded along his cheek. “What? No! Don’t talk like that, Sweetheart.”

“‘Z true,” the stealth proclaimed. “I… I… I don’t want to die in a cell, rotting in there f-f-for who kn-kno-knows how long.” Not even a hint of bravado came through in Sweetheart’s voice. They sounded so unlike themselves. “I was so s-s-scared. You know. You know how awful it is, t-to be locked away a-a-and alone. I don’t want to d-d-die like that.”

“You’re not gonna die!” Milo insisted. He wished saying that made it true. “Please. I… I can do it. I can heal. I just gotta try harder.”

“That’s not it,” Sweetheart refuted quietly and slowly. “None of th-th-this is your f-f-fault. Please, pr-pr-promise me you won’t blame yourself. No matter what.” When Milo didn’t answer them fast enough, they summoned all their strength to exclaim, “Promise!”

Milo didn’t have it in him to deny Sweetheart anything. He hoped one day, he’d learn how to keep that promise to Sweetheart, but he doubted that would ever happen. “I promise.”

“Good,” Sweetheart sighed, like a weight had been lifted off of their shoulders. “Y-you tol' me you nev-never break-k-k promises." They thought back when Milo told them that when he had proposed his deal to them. The memory gave them a moment of warmth that countered the icy force that was spreading through their body. "So that settles th-th-that, then. And, and th-thank you, for t-t-today,” Sweetheart continued, stifling the pained moans that bubbled up from their belly. “The best day, w-w-ith the best person.” They shivered a bit. Ever observant, Milo angled them a little bit closer to his body, willing his own heat to offer them some warmth. “I… I…” They squeezed Milo’s hand as another wave of pain overtook them.

“Shh,” Milo soothed. “Shh, it’s all gonna be okay.”

Their eyes took on a distant, almost reverent look and the smallest of curls formed at the corner of their mouth. “Milo, you were my new dream,” they confessed.

Milo’s face crumpled as he bowed his head down so his forehead met Sweetheart’s. “And you were mine,” he whispered back.

A long exhale puffed out of Sweetheart’s lips. They slumped all of their weight into Milo. Their hand went limp in his.

“Sweetheart?” Milo said, not bothering to hold back his tears any longer. He thumbed along their now-cold cheek. The shifter was too numb to let his other hand let go of their wound. Again, he tried to initiate the healing process out of pure denial and loneliness. “If the magic helps, the magic’s easy,” he repeated, desolate and grief-stricken.

Aggro yowled sadly, planting himself next to Sweetheart’s lifeless feet.

Milo pulled Sweetheart's upper body into his chest, curling around them as sobs wracked his broad shoulders. "Sweetheart, please. No…" He subconsciously began to rock back and forth a little with them, placing the softest kiss on their forehead.

A zap of energy hummed underneath Milo’s lips as he kissed them, but he was too deep into his grief to notice. When he finally managed to pull his hand off of their wound, Milo wrapped his arms around them so he could get a proper grip on Sweetheart. He melted into them, letting his chin come to rest on top of their head as he cried for the loss of someone truly special.

But, even as Milo broke down, that hum of magic grew.

Milo’s magic swelled in Sweetheart, travelling all along their body. It raced along their arms, filled up their chest, shot through their legs, and settled into the center of their wound. His magic mingled with theirs, slowly but surely working to heal their injury.

Aggro perked up as the magic blossomed and danced along Sweetheart, weaving into their body. He cautiously approached, putting out his paw to inspect the magic. “Ree-ow,” he called, his head moving in time with the magic.

Still shaking and crying, Milo turned his head to look at Aggro when the magic caught his eye, as well.

He watched with fascination as the burst of magic swirled up and out of their body, filling the tower with warmth and light. Milo stopped crying, feeling the magic bathe him and Sweetheart in beams of healing energy unlike anything he had ever seen before.

Milo watched in silent awe as the magic reached every corner of the tower and every corner of Sweetheart's body. He felt it dive into him, as well. A mingling of his aura and Sweetheart's surged through his core.

As quickly as the magic grew to fill up every bit of the tower and the people in it, the magic converged into a steady stream and zapped into Sweetheart, disappearing into their wound before the wound itself disappeared.

When Sweetheart stirred in Milo’s arms, he held his breath. It seemed too amazing to be true.

“M-Milo?” they said, blinking open their eyes.

Milo gripped them tighter. “Sweetheart?”

They gave Milo their best flirty smile. “Did… did I ever tell you I got a thing for healers?”

“Sweetheart!” Milo gasped, pulling them in for a hug. “Oh, Sweetheart,” he mumbled into the curve of their neck. A few more tears dripped from his eyes. “You’re alive, you’re alive!”

As the pair embraced, they nestled their faces into each other to breathe in each other. Wordlessly, both Milo and Sweetheart kissed passionately, their cores simply tingling with love and relief. They stayed pressed together for a beat, too thankful for the other even to think about moving.

“Yeah, I’m alive,” Sweetheart confirmed, running a hand through the back of Milo’s hair. “You healed me. How?” Sweetheart brushed a hand along their belly, the wound completely absent. “You healed me perfectly. I thought you didn't kn‒”

“I don't know how to heal,” Milo cut them off. “Or at least, I have never healed before. But, I’m thinking I might have it in my blood.” He swallowed, the weight of realizing his true identity coming back to him now that Sweetheart was healthy and back to their vibrant self. “I got a lot to fill you in on when we make our way back to Dahlia.”

Sweetheart’s eyes widened as they curled a hand into Milo’s shirt, wondering what he meant. “I want to hear every word,” they hummed, content to hear Milo’s voice for the rest of their life.

Milo interlocked his fingers with theirs. "When we go into Dahlia, let's not forget… Wait! Dahlia!" he grimaced. "I left you there on the road to be arrested and taken into Dahlia. Anything I said, I didn't mean. It was Vega c–"

"Vega controlling you," Sweetheart finished. "I know. Gavin and the others told me."

“Gavin?" Milo queried. "What's Gavin got to do with this?"

"As soon as you're done filling me in, I'll tell you all about how Gavin and everyone else at the pub busted me out of prison and gave Blake and his crew a taste of their own medicine," Sweetheart promised. Together, they and Milo stood, still leaning on each other. “You ready to get out of this place?”

Milo nodded, radiating a confidence unlike ever before. “More than ready!”

Aggro jumped up into the counter and began to scream and cry, his head tilting upwards.

"Of course you're coming with us, Aggro," Sweetheart crooned. "You're a hero, too! We saw you attack Vega. What a good guard kitty!"

Milo brightened. "I call him a guard cat all the time!"

As glad as Aggro was to hear the humans appreciated his efforts, he didn't stop meowing. Instead, he also began pawing at the cabinet door, working it open bit by bit.

"What's the matter, buddy? You want a treat?" Milo wondered. "I guess you deserve it." He was about to retrieve the treats, until he realized what the cabinet contained. "Hey, Aggro saves the day again!" he grinned, triumphantly pulling out Sweetheart's knapsack. "Would've been a shame if we had to turn around to get this."

“The cabinet!” Sweetheart smacked their forehead. “Of course you hid my knapsack in the cabinet! I can’t believe I didn’t figure that one out.”

Once the bag was safely passed off to Sweetheart, Aggro assumed his post on Milo’s shoulders. He and Sweetheart joined hands so the stealth could phase them out of the tower once again.

For as much as they wanted to bask in the sheer delight of each other, Milo and Sweetheart both had important business in Dahlia.

Chapter Text

Alpha David and Beta Asher paced back and forth across the room. Their anxious movements left no spot on the floor untouched. Their respective mates had long since given up trying to keep their partners calm and seated. Both Angel and Babe figured that it was probably best for the shifters to move about freely. Despite being unempowered humans, the Royal Mates had adapted to shifter culture exceedingly well.

It had felt like hours passed since one of the guards had burst into David’s chambers, proclaiming that the lost pack member was at the palace gate, begging to be granted an audience with Alpha David. David quickly agreed to the meeting and summoned Asher, though they had to wait for these strangers to be searched and proclaimed a non-threatening visitor and preemptively interviewed him before he was allowed to speak to David. He had insisted on meeting with the man who allegedly claimed to be Milo before he would call for Marie.

“Imprisoned for all this time, right under our noses,” David seethed as he read the material his staff provided him from Milo’s interview. “He never had the chance to find us because he thought we didn’t want him.”

Asher clicked his tongue. “It’s awful to think about all that lost time,” he soothed. “And what Milo must’ve endured at the hands of that villain. But at least we’ve got the chance to be with him now.”

Finally, the interminable wait came to an end. A guard escorted Milo into the vast room. Milo’s head swiveled along his neck, noting the high ceilings and ornate art style of the room.

“I feel his aura,” David whispered to Asher. “It feels real. It feels similar to us.”

“I thought the same thing,” Asher confirmed. “That’s Milo. After all these years. Right in front of us.”

The guard brought Milo to the middle of the room and stood at attention.

“Thank you,” Asher told the guard, dismissing her. She did not need to be told twice to give the Royal Shaw Pack their privacy.

For a moment, no one knew what to do or how to proceed. Everyone stood there dumbly, until Asher finally had the good sense to clear his throat and give Milo a little wave. “Hi,” he said softly. “I’m Asher. The Beta of Dahlia.” He cupped David’s bicep. “And this is the Alpha of Dahlia himself, David.” He gestured his hand to where Angel and Babe sat. “And our mates.”

Milo swallowed, his habitual nervousness and self-consciousness creeping back into his body. “Hi.”

Milo wished Sweetheart had been allowed to accompany him, but the guards had relayed the message that Alpha David preferred to speak to Milo alone. Milo agreed to that deal, but used his agreement as leverage to ensure that Sweetheart got the chance to present their case against R.D.U.M.P.’s corruption with David afterwards.

Not one to waste any more time than already had been lost, David clenched his teeth. “We missed you every day, Milo.” He shuffled closer, hovering and instinctively looking him over for any signs of physical distress after his harrowing escape. “I… I… I know you were too young to remember any of us. But we’ve got pictures of us together as toddlers and you as an infant.” David grimaced. “What Vega told you about us abandoning you, or that shifters were ostracized monsters… They’re lies, Milo. All lies.”

“We never stopped looking for you,” Asher added. “Marie, your mom, she always held out hope, even when it broke her heart. And so did the whole pack.”

“My mom.” Milo tried the strange, new phrase out on his tongue. “A pack of people. A family. My family?” He shrugged. “Sometimes, I used to dream of what it might be like to have a family.”

“It’s not a dream anymore,” David declared, clapping a hand on Milo’s shoulder. “It’s real. We’re real.”

“The realest,” Asher added, through a crackly voice. “We missed you so much, Milo.” He scrubbed at the waterline of his eyes. "We're so happy you found your way back to us."

Suddenly, a shrieking voice and loud, sprinting footsteps rang out from the hallway. “Where is he? I feel him! I feel his aura!” Royal Healer Marie Greer half-shouted, half-growled. “Milo! Milo, baby, I’m coming!” She burst through the large-double doors, flying past the guards and not stopping until she saw Milo. He broke away from David and Asher, turning to look at the woman. Milo blinked to get a double-take of her face.

It was the face of the woman in his dreams, endlessly reaching out but never able to touch.

“Milo!” she began to cry, holding her arms out to invite him into a hug. “Oh, Milo!”

“M-M-Ma?” Milo hesitated, reaching out first with his hands. The weight of relief when they touched nearly sent him to his knees. Milo carefully gazed into her face, checking each feature against the hazy memory of his dreams. It was all there. Same eyes. Same mouth. Same bit of scarring just under her left eye. His magic instantly connected with Marie’s, viscerally confirming what he had known.

This woman before him was his mother. She was familiar in the same way that David and Asher were familiar, but it was stronger. More instinctual. And so very right.

Without a second thought, Milo collapsed into Marie's arms. He tucked himself into her body, relishing the way she held onto him with all her might.

This hug wasn't anything like when he squirmed his way into Vega's arms and the sadism-demon gave him a short, begrudging squeeze and a heavy sigh. No, this was different. Marie wanted him there, with her. She kept saying his name, over and over again through the slur of tears.

Hugging Marie made Milo feel warm. Safe. Protected. Loved. Like he was home. “Ma,” Milo said again, testing the word out on his tongue. “Mama.” His shoulders shook, nearly at the same pace of Marie’s as she began to cry. It was uncanny how Milo had taken after her even after being stolen away. “I didn’t know it was you, but I dreamt of you,” he sobbed into her chest. "I dreamt about you all the time."

Marie stroked his back, letting her hand linger at the curve of his neck, palming it back and forth. She thumbed at his skin, the scruff of her cub who had grown into a man. Marie grieved every night for having lost the chance to watch Milo grow up. It was finally time for her to get to know and to admire the man he had become.

She was already so proud of him.

“I dreamt of you, too, Milo,” Marie replied, whispering into his ear. “Every night.” She hunched forwards. “I’m sorry I couldn’t find you. I’m sorry I let that sadistic freak steal you away. If only I had-”

Milo would hear none of it. “It wasn’t your fault.” He flattened his cheek against the crook of Marie’s shoulder. “It wasn’t. Vega was powerful and crafty. He took every precaution to keep me hidden away, even filling my head with nonsense to keep there. I only wish I would’ve opened my eyes to what he was doing sooner. I’m sorry, I…”

“Shhh," she soothed. "Nothing about this was your fault, either, Milo. Don't you ever, ever think that. The fact that you're here now, that you've escaped. That's what's important. You're so strong to have survived." She kissed his forehead. "You're here now,” Marie stated, barely restraining herself from flying into a vengeful rage at the thought of Vega telling her boy he was unloved by his family and unwanted by the world. "And I'm never letting go of you again."

A small whine escaped Milo as he let Marie’s presence envelop him. Overwhelmed, Milo involuntarily shifted. He barely realized what happened and, before he had the chance to shift back and offer an embarrassed excuse or rapid-fire assurance that he had his shifting magic under control, Marie shifted, too.

Milo vaguely realized that he had never seen another shifter before.

In her majestic wolf form, Marie stood tall over Milo, crouching to keep his body under hers as a reminder that she would protect him. Her fur, much longer and fluffier than Milo’s but of the same shade of gray, rolled in waves along her skin as she shook back and forth. Her long and lean snout shepherded Milo to curl closer into her. The little growls and whines that accompanied the hug gave Milo a sense of belonging unlike anything he could’ve dreamt. He shut his eyes and burrowed further into Marie’s tufts of lucious fur.

Before too long, both David and Asher heeded the need to shift and joined their reunited pack mates for an essential wolf-hug to celebrate the momentous occasion. All four wolves howled together, letting the whole pack know that for the first time in years, after endless searches and insurmountable sadness, their family was finally complete again.

Milo Greer was home.

Sweetheart waited outside of the Royal Conference Hall, pacing back and forth as they waited to be called in by the Ruling Council. They had been granted temporary clemency after Blake had been brought in by the Big Gulp Gang and Milo had vouched for them. To that end, they had also presented their findings to Alpha David and the Ruling Council, though they still had to wait for an official verdict at their meeting today. It was more nerve-wracking than they cared to admit. What if the Ruling Council denied their claims, even after all their efforts? What if Blake had somehow managed to explain away the accusations they and the Big Gulp Gang had wielded against him and the rest of CloseKnit? What if the Ruling Council proclaimed them a traitor and threw them back in prison?

Before Sweetheart could spiral any deeper, a sandy-haired dreamwalker left the room. He opened the heavy door with just enough room to let the person next to him and himself exit. Judging by the way they were holding hands, the person was the dreamwalker’s partner.

“Elliott, this is an immense project,” the partner, an unempowered human, Sweetheart realized from their lack of an aura, said. “And so important. I’m so grateful that Alpha David trusted us to manage this. Here,” they offered, plucking two of the four teetering stacks of papers out of Elliot’s bent elbow. “Let me get that.”

“Thanks, Sunshine,” Elliott smiled. “You’re right. This’ll be difficult, but we can do it. We make a pretty good team,” he flirtatiously winked. “Besides, I’m already thinking of ways we can attack this by mobilizing many of Dahlia’s Communication and Public Relations resources. As disturbing as it is to read CloseKnit’s goals and their modus operandi for realizing these goals, we’ve been given the chance not only to put a stop to this group and others like it from materializing, but to help Dahlia strengthen its commitment to equality, prosperity, and peace.”

Sweetheart relaxed a little when they heard Elliott and Sunshine continue to discuss their plans as they made their way down the hallway. At the very least, Sweetheart realized, CloseKnit would be stopped.

Still, the question as to what would be their own fate after all of this transpired lingered in the stealth’s mind.

Beta Asher peeked his head out the door. “We’re ready for you.” He swung the door open wide. “C’mon in.”

Sweetheart did as Asher asked and followed him into the vast room. When Asher motioned for them to sit down at the empty chair in front of the panel, they quickly obliged him. The Ruling Cabinet whispered amongst themselves as they prepared to address Sweetheart’s case.

Alpha David scanned the documents in his hands for the twentieth time. He still felt as sick and disgusted as he had for the words he read. It was hateful rhetoric, twisted half-truths, fanatic lunacy, and worse. This group was not only zealously dedicated to their destructive cause, but they were organized. They were methodical. And, according to their records, they were growing more and more powerful by the day. Each member of the Ruling Cabinet of Advisors read page after page of the copies David had provided them all so they could discuss this matter together. Alpha David, Beta Asher, Secretary Christian, Royal Healer Marie, and a few other wolves all sat in a panel in front of Sweetheart. Milo attended the hearing as well, though he had to sit to the side and remain silent during the formal questioning. Aggro dutifully accompanied his human, climbing over the empty benches and marking the territory with his scent.

Aggro was quite fond of the idea that the castle was his new home. It was a big job to guard the entire structure, but as the official Royal Guard Cat, he was certainly up to the challenge. He had a shiny new collar and a small metal tag that read 'Aggro: Royal Guard Cat' to prove it.

“And you compiled this investigation by yourself, in addition to your R.D.U.M.P. duties, before you fled?” Christian asked skeptically.

Sweetheart squirmed in their chair, feeling sweat form under their shirt collar. “Yes,” they replied. “That’s right.”

“Impressive.” David pursued his lips. “This is very good work.”

Sweetheart caught sight of Asher elbowing Christian in the side.

“As you must have realized by now, we have found no evidence to support Blake’s claim that you’ve committed treason of any kind,” David began, standing up from his seat. “The Royal Shaw Pack is fully prepared to restore your reputation publicly and to rescind any bounty we put out on your person. Your spotless record will remain just that. Spotless.” He brought his hands behind his back. “Your job as an investigator is still there for you, should you want it. I and the rest of the Ruling Cabinet would fully understand if you chose to resign, honorably and with your pension, of course. We would be disappointed to lose such a valuable member of the Department, but given the circumstances, you would be more than within your rights to leave.”

“I’d like to stay on as an investigator, Alpha,” Sweetheart confirmed confidently. “Thank you for the opportunity. For hearing my case today and for giving me the chance to clear my name publicly. I’m grateful.”

David fought hard not to show the slightest bit of emotion at Sweetheart’s humility. “There is no need for thanks. This is only righting an injustice. One of many injustices, according to your detailed report.” He picked up a folder and glared at it. “And besides that, the Royal Shaw Pack is exceedingly grateful for what you’ve given back to us. It is only fitting that we attempt to show you the same dedication and loyalty that you’ve shown this kingdom by rescuing Milo.

Sweetheart shrugged, feeling the warmth of embarrassment warming the tips of their ears. “Milo rescued me right back,” they said.

“Well-said, though perhaps a little bit self-effacing for my taste,” he criticized. “Between your record as an investigator and the tenacious spirit you’ve shown over the recent days, it is my honor, along with the rest of the Ruling Cabinet, to promote you to Senior Investigator. You’ll be handling many more high-profile cases, with, of course, the apropos financial compensation to match. Furthermore, I’d like you to serve as part of the internal committee of R.D.U.M.P. that reports directly to me and the rest of the Royal Shaw Pack. I’ve read quite far back into your record, Investigator,” David informed them. “Your ideas for maximizing efficiency as well as promoting physical, mental, and social well-being of R.D.U.M.P. are quite sound. I know your attempts to improve the workplace environment of R.D.U.M.P. have been rejected before, but I think it’s time we take a second look and begin implementing some more supportive structures.”

“I… I…” Sweetheart beamed. “I’m overwhelmed. I… Yes, Alpha,” they stuttered. “Yes, I humbly accept your offer and swear to uphold the rights and values of Dahlian citizens until my last breath.”

Marie looked on at Sweetheart fondly. Milo had, of course, gushed nonstop about Sweetheart to her. So far, it seemed to Marie that everything her son had said about the stealth was true. Marie nearly had to pick her jaw up off of the floor when Milo had recounted his desperate attempts to perform healing magic on their grave wound, but when Marie inspected Sweetheart, she felt for herself the thrum of healing energy buzzing in their body. Somehow, Milo had channeled his love for Sweetheart into the magic they needed to survive an injury that should have killed them. Marie bursted with pride at the mere thought. If Milo could do that raw and untrained, Marie had no doubt that with some practice, Milo would be the greatest healer that the Kingdom of Dahlia had ever seen. Not only that, Marie realized, but the smile that always spread across Milo’s face as he discussed Sweetheart was more telling than the barrage of words that he spoke.

Despite the intimidation that having the entire Ruling Cabinet stare them down and scrutinize their every word, Sweetheart couldn’t let themselves take all the credit when they knew they didn’t deserve it. “And,” Sweetheart added, “I want to say that I would’ve never even had the chance to show you this incriminating material on CloseKnit if it weren’t for Gavin and the rest of the Big Gulp Gang. By busting me out of Blake’s clutches, they set everything in motion. I cannot be the only one to receive praise when their brave efforts were instrumental to the whole shebang.”

“Every single person involved will be receiving a generous reward, as well as publicly thanked in a ceremony,” Asher assured Sweetheart. “They not only saved you from certain death and Milo from certain torture, but they also brought Blake’s cultist ideas to our attention.” His eyes narrowed. “The bravery and conscientiousness of Dahlia’s citizens continually amaze us. We are only too happy to honor them for it. The whole of The Big Gulp Gang will be well-positioned to live out any dream they so choose.”

Sweetheart grinned at Asher’s word choice. “Oh, good. Good,” they sighed. “They all deserve it.”

“Asher is absolutely right,” David declared. “And he speaks for all of us. As for Blake, he has confessed his crimes, as have some of his associates. He is currently providing R.D.U.M.P. the names of all his associates. For all his cult’s claims that they are ‘unified’ in their quest to manifest a ‘greater good,’ Blake apparently has decided that if he was going to be punished for his treason, so should everyone else. A nice little bit of justice, isn’t it?” he wryly scoffed. “I am quite embarrassed that CloseKnit was able to capture as much power as it did. Blake often worked directly under me and beyond a few odd phrasings or looks, I never suspected he was this deep into something so awful.” David swiped a hand through his hair, clearly trying to hide his shame, even if no one blamed the alpha. After all, Blake had everyone fooled. “In addition to our extensive criminal investigations that will take swift action to remove all CloseKnit associates from R.D.U.M.P., I have already initiated sweeping communication and public relations related programs that will prevent anything like CloseKnit from emerging. The Kingdom of Dahlia will not stand for such blatant bigotry and the criminal activity it encourages to further its violent mission. We promised our citizens a safe, peaceful life. It is our duty as its rulers to honor and to preserve that promise.”

The Ruling Cabinet gave their murmurs of agreement and nodded their heads.

“And on that note of safety and peace, you’ll be happy to know that Vega has been located,” David explained. “And properly detained. We ask that you will join Milo in testifying during Vega’s case so that justice can be served on that front, as well. Rest assured, the pack will provide ample protection.”

“I absolutely will,” Sweetheart confirmed, giving Milo a look.

He smiled brightly and gave them a small thumbs-up.

“Do you have any questions for us?” David asked.

Sweetheart paused thoughtfully, but they were completely content. “No, Alpha,” they answered. “Thank you, everyone.”

David gave a short nod. “Then, in that case, I’ll adjourn this m‒”

“Alpha,” Marie cut in, rising from her seat. “I have something to add, if neither you nor the Ruling Cabinet would object.”

David quickly stepped aside. “Please,” he invited.

Marie gratefully moved forward. “I have been thinking about how I could possibly thank you for what you’ve done, Investigator. To get Milo out of that horrific imprisonment. To bring Milo back to the pack.” She tapped on her chest. “To bring my son home to me. ‘Thank you’ seems a paltry attempt. But, nonetheless, thank you. I imagine that due to your new position and your newfound pack connections, we’ll be seeing you around the castle often.” Knowingly, she raised an eyebrow towards Milo. “But I want you to know, anytime you need any healing, I want you to see me personally. Please,” she said. “I want to give you the world, like you gave my world back to me. But, all I can offer is my healing services. And I certainly won’t take ‘no’ for an answer!”

Everyone’s eyes tracked to Sweetheart to see their reaction.

Sweetheart froze, slack jawed at the generosity of the Royal Healer. “That’s… I…” Sweetheart floundered. “Thank you, Royal Healer. I am eternally grateful for that. And eternally grateful to the Royal Pack for showing me mercy and hearing my side of this fiasco. It would’ve been very easy to defer to Blake, as he outranked me, put me in prison, and never gave anything a second though. I have always been proud to serve Dahlia, but I am especially proud today. Thank you for helping to shape Dahlia into the land we want it to be.”

Milo watched in awe of Sweetheart’s heartfelt speech. He was so deeply appreciative to begin his life in Dahlia, with Sweetheart by his side, too.

David spoke through clenched teeth to avoid letting on that Sweetheart’s words were making him choke up. “Noted,” he said simply. “If there are no more questions, I hereby adjourn this meeting.”

Christian banged the ceremonial gavel to signal the official end of the meeting. As the crack rang out and echoed through the conference hall, Milo leapt up from his seat and sprinted over to Sweetheart. Before the stealth could even fully stand, they found themselves pressed into Milo’s body. They were all too happy to return the hug.

“I’m so glad everything worked out, Sweetheart,” he whispered before pulling away so he and Sweetheart could talk. “I love you so much.”

Sweetheart’s knuckles brushed along Milo’s cheek. “I love you, too,” they told him. Sweetheart was still figuring out how to express the emotions they used to keep hidden. After they nearly died in Milo’s arms without telling him the truth, they were determined to use this new chance at life to create the one they wanted to live, and that included being more open and authentic when it came to the people they loved and trusted.

Marie, with Aggro cradled in her arms, slowed her pace as she neared Sweetheart and Milo. “I’ll wait for you outside, Milo,” she told him, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Take your time.”

“I’ll be quick, Ma,” Milo grinned. He was still getting acclimated to the feelings of trust and support that his family showed him. Vega certainly would have ushered Milo away as quickly as possible. It was a difficult adjustment for Milo to make in his day-to-day life, but a welcome one that everyone in the Royal Shaw Pack was helping Milo to make. With that, Marie and the rest of the wolves had filed out of the room.

“The last few days have kind of been like a dream come true, haven’t they?” Sweetheart giggled. “You’ve got a new family. I’ve got a new job. Bad guys are in jail. Kingdom is saved.” They pushed their hand into Milo’s, interlocking their fingers in his.

Milo’s arm returned around their waist, pulling them a little bit closer. “A dream come true indeed.” He took their chin in his hand and kissed them. It was a soft, loving kiss that made both Milo and Sweetheart feel more secure and safe than they ever had in their lives. “What do you say we find out what our next dream is together?”

“Together.” Both Sweetheart and Milo grinned at the thought. “That sounds perfect,” they agreed, sealing their words with another kiss.

And everyone lived happily ever after.