George had fallen asleep after a very pleasant evening, so it was with some confusion that he woke to cold sheets in his large tent.
“Connor?” he called out. He sleepily blinked and looked around for the young man.
When he didn’t see the mop of dark hair and those mesmerizing amber-brown eyes, he sat up in a hurry.
“Connor?” he called out again.
“Out here.”
George grabbed his clothes and hurriedly pulled them on. Once decently dressed, he stepped into the chill of the early morning winter New England air.
He blinked at the spectacle that awaited him.
“Connor, what are you doing?”
The young man was kneeling in the snow, a frown on his face as he stared at the bushes next to his tent.
Connor ignored his question.
“How many soldiers have graying black hair?”
George frowned at this.
“A few...”
“And which of those few have dogs with amber-brown fur?”
Dogs with amber-brown fur? The only person who came to mind was...
“Just General Charles Lee.”
Connor stiffened.
“Connor, what is going on?”
His Wolf looked grim, but said nothing.
George persisted.
“Please, love, let me share in whatever it is that is causing you distress.”
Amber-brown eyes looked at him, the gaze measuring, calculating.
Finally, his Wolf nodded.
“We had best speak in your tent then, away from the open.”
And they headed back inside to George’s tent.
----
One hour later, George stared incredulously at the young man he loved.
It, it couldn’t be. To think that, that...
He got up and paced in the tight, confined space, prowling like a tiger in a cage.
He looked at those amber-brown eyes, and when those eyes kept his gaze, he looked away again.
He wasn’t sure what to think, what to feel.
No, he knew what he thought. It was just so...so...
“Unbelievable.”
His Wolf looked at him worriedly.
“It is unfortunate, but it is true.”
George shook his head at this.
“I cannot believe it. Charles is my good friend. We have had difficulties in the past, but we served in the same squadron, served under the same man. We fought for the same causes and saved each other’s life more than I can remember. And now you’re saying that—“
“—Charles Lee wants to kill you.”
George shook his head again.
“Surely, you must be mistaken. He’s had countless opportunities. He needn’t have saved me all those times if he wanted me dead. It doesn’t make sense. To think that a man such as he—“
“—is working for a nefarious organization who is angry at you for taking the commander position in this war? Unfortunately yes. That is also why he did not kill you earlier. Before you became commander, it is likely he held no real enmity for you.”
George stopped pacing and fell back upon his sheets. Groaning, he covered his face with his hands.
It was truly unbelievable.
“But Charles is a good man. A brave soldier. A great leader of men and tactically very brilliant. It seems so ridiculous that he should be swayed with a fanatic organization—“
“—the child I carry is his.”
At first, George didn’t register the words, but then, he felt the blood rush to his head.
He sat up quickly, staring at the young Omega.
“What?” It came out as a whisper.
Connor’s eyes were steely and cold.
“I work for an opposing group, and when he found me in the prison...” Connor trailed off, but George did not need him to finish.
The meaning was clear.
Oh God.
George wanted to retch.
“He is not truly your friend, dear George. The man who tried to kill you, at the prison, after he tried to execute me...they were working together.“
George pressed a shaking hand to his mouth.
“They are part of the same group, an organization called the Templars. Their goal is to control and remake the world into a form that they deem appropriate. I believe they are working with both the patriots and the crown, hoping to emerge the victor in this conflict. Because of that, they desire your position and seek to—“
“—why didn’t you tell me?”
Connor stopped in mid-sentence. He blinked. Then he blushed uncomfortably.
“I am sorry George.”
Sorry?
“I am part of a different organization, one who seeks freedom and choice for everyone. We have been fighting the Templars for over 700 years, and it is forbidden to tell people not of the order about our existence—“
George grasped his Omega’s shoulders.
“Why didn’t you tell me that it was Charles who had assaulted you? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
Didn’t his Wolf know that he wanted nothing more than to help him? Than to be able to protect him? It was a miss opportunity. Had George known, he would have Charles court-martialed and jailed.
Possibly executed for treason.
His Wolf looked at him solemnly.
“I told you he could not be trusted. You did not want to listen.”
George winced.
It was true. He had brushed off Connor’s concerns about Lee, certain about his own knowledge on his friend.
But...
“I would have listened had you told me it was he who assaulted you.”
He sounded petulant. He knew he sounded petulant.
But it was such a shock to him.
“His forcing himself on me has nothing to do with his treason. It only shows he is not a good man. You should not need that information to take my words seriously.”
George winced again. Connor had a point there.
It did not reflect well on him that he was so willing to brush off his most valued ally and his most precious person’s words.
It would have been different if he gave them due consideration, but he knew his heart that he had not.
He had been too sure of his own beliefs.
“And I am not altogether comfortable speaking of it. I wish to put it behind me, I wish to forget how it felt to have himself force his body into mine.”
That was wholly understandable.
God, George was a patronizing sod.
“I only stopped trying to convince you of his treason because it became clear you would not believe me without more proof. So I have been trying to gather more proof of his activities. However, his presence outside your tent last night changes everything, and I will not risk your safety for my comfort.”
He should not have to do that.
His Omega should not have to keep sacrificing for him.
“Connor, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t take your words seriously and conducted the investigation I should have conducted. I’m sorry I never listened to you or Israel when you two warned me about the attempts on my life. I’m sorry that I made things harder for you.”
Those eyes measured his words, measured his sincerity.
And Connor finally leaned into his hold.
“You also make my life a lot more bearable. Thank you for that.”
Strange Fates 8
Chapter 8 - Sides
George had fallen asleep after a very pleasant evening, so it was with some confusion that he woke to cold sheets in his large tent.
“Connor?” he called out. He sleepily blinked and looked around for the young man.
When he didn’t see the mop of dark hair and those mesmerizing amber-brown eyes, he sat up in a hurry.
“Connor?” he called out again.
“Out here.”
George grabbed his clothes and hurriedly pulled them on. Once decently dressed, he stepped into the chill of the early morning winter New England air.
He blinked at the spectacle that awaited him.
“Connor, what are you doing?”
The young man was kneeling in the snow, a frown on his face as he stared at the bushes next to his tent.
Connor ignored his question.
“How many soldiers have graying black hair?”
George frowned at this.
“A few...”
“And which of those few have dogs with amber-brown fur?”
Dogs with amber-brown fur? The only person who came to mind was...
“Just General Charles Lee.”
Connor stiffened.
“Connor, what is going on?”
His Wolf looked grim, but said nothing.
George persisted.
“Please, love, let me share in whatever it is that is causing you distress.”
Amber-brown eyes looked at him, the gaze measuring, calculating.
Finally, his Wolf nodded.
“We had best speak in your tent then, away from the open.”
And they headed back inside to George’s tent.
----
One hour later, George stared incredulously at the young man he loved.
It, it couldn’t be. To think that, that...
He got up and paced in the tight, confined space, prowling like a tiger in a cage.
He looked at those amber-brown eyes, and when those eyes kept his gaze, he looked away again.
He wasn’t sure what to think, what to feel.
No, he knew what he thought. It was just so...so...
“Unbelievable.”
His Wolf looked at him worriedly.
“It is unfortunate, but it is true.”
George shook his head at this.
“I cannot believe it. Charles is my good friend. We have had difficulties in the past, but we served in the same squadron, served under the same man. We fought for the same causes and saved each other’s life more than I can remember. And now you’re saying that—“
“—Charles Lee wants to kill you.”
George shook his head again.
“Surely, you must be mistaken. He’s had countless opportunities. He needn’t have saved me all those times if he wanted me dead. It doesn’t make sense. To think that a man such as he—“
“—is working for a nefarious organization who is angry at you for taking the commander position in this war? Unfortunately yes. That is also why he did not kill you earlier. Before you became commander, it is likely he held no real enmity for you.”
George stopped pacing and fell back upon his sheets. Groaning, he covered his face with his hands.
It was truly unbelievable.
“But Charles is a good man. A brave soldier. A great leader of men and tactically very brilliant. It seems so ridiculous that he should be swayed with a fanatic organization—“
“—the child I carry is his.”
At first, George didn’t register the words, but then, he felt the blood rush to his head.
He sat up quickly, staring at the young Omega.
“What?” It came out as a whisper.
Connor’s eyes were steely and cold.
“I work for an opposing group, and when he found me in the prison...” Connor trailed off, but George did not need him to finish.
The meaning was clear.
Oh God.
George wanted to retch.
“He is not truly your friend, dear George. The man who tried to kill you, at the prison, after he tried to execute me...they were working together.“
George pressed a shaking hand to his mouth.
“They are part of the same group, an organization called the Templars. Their goal is to control and remake the world into a form that they deem appropriate. I believe they are working with both the patriots and the crown, hoping to emerge the victor in this conflict. Because of that, they desire your position and seek to—“
“—why didn’t you tell me?”
Connor stopped in mid-sentence. He blinked. Then he blushed uncomfortably.
“I am sorry George.”
Sorry?
“I am part of a different organization, one who seeks freedom and choice for everyone. We have been fighting the Templars for over 700 years, and it is forbidden to tell people not of the order about our existence—“
George grasped his Omega’s shoulders.
“Why didn’t you tell me that it was Charles who had assaulted you? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
Didn’t his Wolf know that he wanted nothing more than to help him? Than to be able to protect him? It was a miss opportunity. Had George known, he would have Charles court-martialed and jailed.
Possibly executed for treason.
His Wolf looked at him solemnly.
“I told you he could not be trusted. You did not want to listen.”
George winced.
It was true. He had brushed off Connor’s concerns about Lee, certain about his own knowledge on his friend.
But...
“I would have listened had you told me it was he who assaulted you.”
He sounded petulant. He knew he sounded petulant.
But it was such a shock to him.
“His forcing himself on me has nothing to do with his treason. It only shows he is not a good man. You should not need that information to take my words seriously.”
George winced again. Connor had a point there.
It did not reflect well on him that he was so willing to brush off his most valued ally and his most precious person’s words.
It would have been different if he gave them due consideration, but he knew his heart that he had not.
He had been too sure of his own beliefs.
“And I am not altogether comfortable speaking of it. I wish to put it behind me, I wish to forget how it felt to have himself force his body into mine.”
That was wholly understandable.
God, George was a patronizing sod.
“I only stopped trying to convince you of his treason because it became clear you would not believe me without more proof. So I have been trying to gather more proof of his activities. However, his presence outside your tent last night changes everything, and I will not risk your safety for my comfort.”
He should not have to do that.
His Omega should not have to keep sacrificing for him.
“Connor, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t take your words seriously and conducted the investigation I should have conducted. I’m sorry I never listened to you or Israel when you two warned me about the attempts on my life. I’m sorry that I made things harder for you.”
Those eyes measured his words, measured his sincerity.
And Connor finally leaned into his hold.
“You also make my life a lot more bearable. Thank you for that.”