Help! Five Beast Alphas Want To Breed Me!!(BL)

Zethar;

I slam the door hard enough that the walls shudder.

The sound is sharp... satisfying, but not enough.

Not enough to drown out the fury building, biting, fighting in my heart.

I pace back and forth like a caged thing. My fists keep tightening and unclenching.

The air feels too tight in my lungs, too hot against my skin, and my mind descends into a raging mess.

I grab the first thing within reach— a wooden chair— and without a moment’s pause to think, I hurl it across the room.

It shatters against the wall on the other end, but it’s still not fucking enough!

Fuc, I want to scream! Rip something, make something bleed!!!

”How dare she!?” I scream, unable to contain my pain.

”After all these years...” The words come softer now. A softness I do not like.

I run a hand through my hair, with my nails scraping my scalp.

My chest burns as heat coils there... a familiar and ugly heat.

The kind that forms before stupid tears fall.

I was better before.

I was better when the idea of a mother was already dead and buried. Better when there was no possibility. No hope. No chance of disappointment.

She has no right to try to bring that softness into my life now. No right to look at me like that. No right to say those words to me!

Forgiveness.

Forgiveness!?

As if she deserves it!

She spent years teaching me to drown in the shadows, and now that I’ve made peace with it, she’s just going to yank me out!?

Cause I’m a toy and she can do whatever she wants with us without consequence!?

I grab the small table beside me and shove it with all the rage I’m feeling.

Its glass shatters, and the expensive vase on it breaks. I don’t care. I kick what’s left of the table aside, breathing hard, as sweat coats my skin.

I don’t need tenderness.

I don’t need her filthy ’regret’, and I certainly don’t need her.

I am fine knowing I never had a mother, and never will. I’m fine being forged without one.

I was raised as a boy without the inbred softness that having a mother gives.

So why now?

Why come back with open arms when I already learned how to live without them?

My hands shake and my vision blurs, and I shut my eyes in anger.

Couldn’t she just leave us the way we fucking were!?

We don’t need her! We don’t need her as a mother!!!

I turn, grab another object, ready to destroy it too, when a knock comes from the door.

It’s a soft, careful knock.

I freeze.

My heart lurches violently, instinct screaming before thought catches up. If she’s the one who followed me here, I swear—

I snarl under my breath, spinning toward the door in agitation.

”What?” I snap, already furious that she dared to follow me.

The door opens before I can bark another word, and my heart skips as Elián’s small figure walks in.

Small, barefoot, hair slightly messy from rest, and his eyes... wide but not frightened.

Just curious... Concerned.

Everything inside me races to a halt.

The heat in my chest pauses, then recoils like darkness running from light. I straighten instinctively, shoulders squaring, and anger thawing.

I swallow hard and force my breathing to slow as I realise seeing me like this may scare him.

”Elián,” I say, rougher than I mean to. I clear my throat. ”Are you okay?” I ask further, trying to divert his attention from the mess I’m standing in the middle of.

He nods.

”Do you need something?” I ask, already fighting myself to soften my voice.

He doesn’t need to see this. He doesn’t need to be near this.

To my surprise, he steps further into the room.

His gaze flicks over the destruction. The broken chair, the shattered glass, the overturned table... and the lamp in my hand.

He doesn’t comment.... Doesn’t flinch. He just keeps walking.

Straight toward me.

”Elián,” I warn quietly.

”It’s a mess in here,” I whisper, and he stops in front of me.

Then, without warning, he wraps his arms around my waist.

The contact hits me like a blow. A shocking, delicate blow.

I stiffen, muscles locking, and breath catching painfully in my chest as his forehead rests against my sternum.

My hands hover uselessly in the air, unsure of what to do.

”I’m sweaty,” I say automatically...stupidly, but he only tightens his hold on me.

”You shouldn’t hug me like this,” I add, and still he doesn’t move.

He doesn’t loosen his hold, and he ignores my words.

The heat in my chest shifts. Not burning now... Melting.

He lets out a breath and rests his cheek against my chest as he hugs me. Like a mother would hug her child after a fall.

”Elián,” I try again, quieter.

”What do you want?” I whisper as I let the lamp fall to the ground so I can hold him.

His voice is muffled against me when he answers, but he does anyway.

”I’m hungry.” He mumbles, and I blink.

”What?” I question in confusion, and he nuzzles further into me.

”I want fresh apples,” he says. Then, after a pause, he adds,

”Can you come with me to get some?”

I stare down at him, completely at a loss, but he doesn’t even look up.

Fresh apples.

That’s it.

That’s why he came?

He saw me like this, didn’t run, didn’t look scared, didn’t ask questions... he just asked for...

Apples??

I let out a slow breath I didn’t realise I was holding, and he looks up at me.

I stare at his beautiful red eyes that glow like rubies, and a small smile colours my lips as I brush some of his soft brown hair from his forehead.

”Yes,” I say before I can think too hard about it.

”I’ll come with you,” I add, and this time he smiles.

Bright and beautiful.

”Thank you,” he replies, and Light help me, that one small smile of his dissolves something in my chest that rage couldn’t taint.

The edges of my anger dull, and I feel the storm in my mind quiet as I look at him.

My precious sky...

He takes my hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world and tugs gently as he pulls me toward the door.

I let him.

As we step out, I glance once over my shoulder at the wreckage I left behind.

It will still be there when I get back. But for now, I follow Elián.

For apples.

And for now, that is enough... the gift, and chance to breathe...

********

Elián;

I know exactly why he’s angry.

The weight of it sits heavily in my chest as we walk through the orchard’s paths.

I subconsciously admire how the afternoon sun filters through the leaves above us, and Zethar’s strides beside me are longer than necessary.

I know what happened. I know what I did.

I was the one who spoke to Queen Selthía... I was the one who nudged her to try to fix things with them because wounds left untouched only fester...

And this is Zethar’s reaction to her attempt.

I don’t regret asking her to try to fix things. But seeing Zethar like this hurts.

He isn’t lashing out at me. He’s careful with me in a way I know I should be grateful for. Although he often treats me like I’m something fragile, he doesn’t trust himself not to break...

We reach the oldest apple tree in the orchard, and I stare up at its branches, which are full of red fruits.

Zethar doesn’t ask any questions or waste any time.

He just climbs up the tree effortlessly with practised ease. He plucks apples two at a time, tossing them down with surprising gentleness.

I sit on the grass beneath the tree, folding my legs under me, as I watch him. As his muscles flex, and as the sun illuminates every perfection of him...

He lands a moment later beside me and hands me an apple without a word. He takes one for himself and sits on the floor beside me as he bites into it— Chewing slowly with his eyes fixed somewhere far away.

Silence settles between us gently... It’s not the uncomfortable kind.

No... this is just full silence. The kind that is warm and full.

I roll the apple he gave me in my palms, feeling its smooth skin, and finally, I do what I dragged him out here to do.

Talk.

”Zethar... I know you’re angry.” I speak gently as I look at him, and his jaw tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt.

”I know why,” I continue.

”And I understand,” I add, and he finally looks at me with confusion in his beautiful gold and blue eyes.

”I know what it feels like to grow up without a mother,” I confess, and his brows knit together.

”You... what?” He questions, and I draw a slow breath.

”I’ve been remembering things,” I say carefully.

”Not all of it. But enough.” I add quickly because Elien may tell me stuff about his past, but I don’t know enough to act like I fully ’remember’ his past.

Zethar studies my face carefully now, something wary flickering in his eyes.

”Your memories came back?” He asks in concern, and I nod with a small smile.

”Bits,” I nod.

”Enough to understand how you feel,” I add before turning the apple in my hands again, then finally taking a sweet, crisp bite.

”My mother,” I say, voice steady despite the ache rising behind my ribs,

”was alive. Present. And still... she was never really there.” I begin, and Zethar doesn’t move.

”She wasn’t warm,” I continue as I stare at the apple in my hands.

”She wasn’t kind. She didn’t hold me when I cried or look for me when I went quiet. I learned early that love from her came with conditions, and most days, it didn’t come at all.” I add as tears blur my sight, and I swallow.

”She wasn’t a mother to me. She was a shadow that passed through the house and left me colder every time our paths crossed.” I add, and Zethar’s grip tightens around his apple.

”There were days,” I admit, my voice softer now,

”When I thought it would have been easier if she hadn’t existed at all. Because at least then I wouldn’t have spent my childhood wondering what was wrong with me that made her look away.” I speak with my heart growing heavy as I remember home.

A tear drop slides down my face, and he exhales slowly.

I can see it now. The sadness in his eyes.

It’s not pity, but recognition. Recognition of familiar hurt.

”That kind of loneliness,” I say gently, ”does something to a child. It teaches you not to ask. Not to hope. Not to reach.” I whisper, and I glance at him.

”And yet... even then, I knew I needed a mother. I just didn’t know what that meant.” I add, and I fall silent to let my words sink in.

He looks at me like he’s going to say something, and I hold my breath as he thinks of whatever he may want to say to me.