Chapter Text
“Who decided to take in a mutt? The room reeks of it.” Ciar sniffed disdainfully, finally joining their table.
“You’re late.” Methas states
“Thank you for stating the obvious, Speedy Prince.”
“Hush now, you two.” Mekhin intervenes, ever the peacemaker. “You are scaring my boyfriend.”
“Why is he here? And he doesn’t look scared.” Ciar grumbles, ignoring the cheeky expression on Pokpong’s face “I only agreed to these gatherings because that was one of Master’s last wishes before he left. Why is the human tagging along?”
“He is here because I asked him to come with me. We are going on a date after this.”
Ignoring the fake gagging from Ciar, Methas picks up his spoon, “Now that we are all here, let’s eat.”
The dinner proceeds as usual, with Pokpong talking about the shop and updating them on the former hunters, Mekhin chiming in occasionally and Ciar ranting about how his followers keep asking him for the strangest requests; but they all know despite his griping, Ciar loves to help people.
Pokpong keeps goading him, enjoying riling him up. Methas smiles slightly watching Ciar and Pokpong make faces at each other, before hiding it behind his glass. Mekhin shakes his head fondly at the duo before leaning forward to spoon some more rice onto his plate.
He stiffens as a whiff of something unfamiliar reaches his nose.
“What is that weird smell?” Mekhin’s words pause the conversation at the table.
“I can’t smell anything different.” Methas supplies, sniffing the air delicately
“I told you it smelled like a dog but who listens to me!!”
“Are you sure it is not your feathers, Khun Ciar?”
“Come here you brat, Pokpong, I will turn you into a rat and eat you up.”
Ciar and Pokpong start up a new spat, but Mekhin is still focused on the scent. It seemed to come from near Methas and he’s proven right as the scent gets stronger the closer he moves to their new leader.
He feels the hair on his nape bristle, feeling the power and danger emanating from the scent and recognised that it belonged to no ordinary creature.
“Whom did you meet today, Khun Methas?” Mekhin didn’t intend to snap, but whoever this being was, the mere waft is putting him on edge.
“What are you talking about Mekhin?” Methas frowns.
“That out of place scent, it is coming from you.” Ciar and Pokpong stop their antics, the vampire rushing towards Methas, sniffing at him.
“He’s right! What is going on?” Ciar hisses as he finally catches the scent in its entirety, reeling as he recognises it.
“You met a werewolf. An alpha. A very powerful alpha.” Ciar’s eyes flash as his fangs drop involuntarily, something that had never happened ever since he learned to control his instincts.
Methas just sits there, the frown on his face clearing as it dawned on him what or who exactly they were talking about.
“I did meet a werewolf today.”
“Who was it? What’d they say to you?”
“I will tear them apart!”
“Werewolves are real?”
“Sit down all of you!” The calm command reverberates through the room and they all reluctantly drop in their seats.
“Yes, werewolves are real, Nong Pokpong. And no you will not do anything that violates the peace treaty we all fought so hard for, Ciar, even if you are just bluffing.”
Ignoring the indignant spluttering coming from his blood brother, Methas turns to Mekhin, “I had bought a painting that was displayed at Elise’s art gallery, he is the owner of the artwork. He wanted to meet who was buying his piece. It’s probably nothing, don’t worry Mekhin.”
“Don’t worry? No “art owner” meets his customers and you know that as well. I don’t trust that he didn’t have ulterior motives. He is obviously very strong and why would a werewolf meet you now?” Ciar starts pacing, trying his best to calm himself down but struggling as the smell still pervades his senses.
“And he left his scent on you” Mekhin adds.
“That is not possible.” Mekhin and Ciar glance at each other, communicating silently before turning to the eldest.
“The wolf left his scent on you. Did he touch you?” Ciar leaves the questioning to Mekhin, choosing to just observe for now.
“We only shook hands.” Methas answers.
“And?”
“And nothing else happened.”
“Are you sure, Khun?”
“Yes.” Methas was firm, unsure about where they both were going with this
“Why are you turning red then?” Mekhin raises an eyebrow in query.
“....”
“Do you like him?”
Ciar gapes as Methas entire face turns crimson. “What the fuck?”
“Language Ciar!”
“Don’t you “language” me when you’re blushing thinking about an alpha wolf.”
“It was nothing. We just met about the painting.” Methas mumbles, “He is not interested in me like that.”
“But you want him to be.” Mekhin observes.
Methas wants to disappear into the painting like his master. He felt unraveled by the meeting with Mundal today and now his brothers were so close to deducing his thoughts.
“No..” it was a weak protest and the other two were quick to catch on.
“Oh! Looks like the prince has a heart after all.” Ciar teases
“Weren’t you just saying that you’d tear him apart.”
“I can’t be bothered. Don’t want to sully my hands with all that fur.”
“...?” Methas was sure his face was displaying his befuddlement.
“Plus, this is the first time in centuries that you finally are doing something for yourself.”
Never in his long life has Methas been rendered speechless so many times in one day.
“We just want you to be happy, Khun.” Mekhin smiles, “even if it’s with a werewolf.”
“The prince will finally stop frowning.” Methas immediately proves him otherwise by furrowing his eyebrows at Ciar’s statement.
“I’m happy for you Khun Methas.” Pokpong chimes, smile widening as Methas acknowledges him with a nod and quirk of lips.
“Look! He’s already changing–he’s smiling. Is this the power of love?”
Methas nearly chokes at that, while Mekhin suggests, “Maybe you too should find someone Ciar, you might finally stop being a brat.”
“EXCUSE ME??!! Stop roping me into your schemes.”
They both suddenly turn serious, “But you have to be careful. Give us his name, Ciar will check him out.”
“And use your connections, quack doctor, to check if his pack maintains the accords. You know creatures of all kinds.”
“His name is Mundal.” Methas words are met with stunned silence before Ciar finally breaks it, “The alpha of the Bloodmoon pack?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck! This changes everything.”
“Hmm?”
“He is a very powerful alpha, said to be the most powerful werewolf in centuries. He could be an Alpha Supreme.”
“I heard that dude was looking for a mate. Also that he’s very vicious.”
“Stop interrupting me Ciar!” Mekhin smacks the back of his head, “Anyway, yes, he has been looking for his mate ever since he took over as the head of the pack from his parents. Despite all the rumors about him being ruthless, he is also known to be a just leader. His pack has only grown stronger over time.”
“He is an Alpha Supreme.” Methas confirms, nodding his head as if to assert the fact.
The two turn to look at each other, Ciar huffing out a laugh at the sheer ridiculousness that Methas chose to focus on that one part.
“Did you not hear the part where he is looking for a mate?”
“I did. What of it?”
“Are you being dense on purpose?”
“Ciar..” Mekhin warns him before turning to the leader, “Khun, think of it, he went out of his way to meet you, despite knowing you are a vampire he still chose to leave his scent on you. And if we are able to smell it, then one can only imagine how you would smell to a werewolf.”
“He scentmarked you because you are his mate.” Ciar deadpans, impatient for Methas to finally decipher what Mekhin was saying.
“Maybe he accidentally did that. Why would a werewolf take a vampire like me as his mate?”
“It’s the 21st century, even the moon goddess has evolved and any creature can be mates with a wolf now, even you know that. You are being dodgy, what really happened?”
“I…”
“You know we wouldn’t judge you, P’Methas.” Mekhin pulls his chair closer to Methas.
“Yes, I do know that.” Methas sighs loudly, “It’s just that he could have anyone he wanted, why would he choose me?”
“For your age, I thought you would be wise by now.” Ignoring Mekhin’s pointed clearing of his throat, he continues, “P’Methas, you were a literal prince as human, you were loved by your people and your comrades. And don’t forget you are the leader of the vampires now.”
“What Ciar means to say is that you are more than worthy. The moon goddess chooses mates and she decided you both were fated for each other.”
“Yes, stop being obtuse, it is not like you.”
Methas realises how serious they are about this as they rarely call him Phi and reluctantly divulges, “Fine. He asked to meet me again.”
All of them straightened in their seats at that, “When?” they ask in chorus.
“We haven’t decided yet. He said he’s going to stay in the city for a while.” Methas avoids looking at their faces, not wanting to see the knowing expression they’d both have.
Pokpong, who has been watching the entire conversation play out while quietly eating his dinner, says, “Khun Methas, if you don’t mind me saying this, I think you should give yourself a chance at happiness.”
They all pause, listening to the human, “I know how you vampires are, you are always thinking that you can decide everything yourselves, that you cannot let anyone into your lives, that you will only hurt them.
“But listen to your heart, don’t close it off before you’ve even tried. Trust me, it will only bring you pain if you push someone away even when you want them.”
As Methas ponders on those words, he watches as Pokpong’s eyes dart to Mekhin’s while the doctor looks at his beloved with guilt in his eyes. He doesn’t know the details about what happened between the two, but he knew that it wasn’t easy for them to get together.
The dinner continues in contemplative silence.
Methas lay in bed turning the entire day over in his head. Meeting Mundal had been nothing short of exhilarating. The look in the other’s eyes as they shook hands and he’d tried to look into his head but no vision had come forth, had intrigued him.
The challenging gaze made him want to sink his teeth into his flesh and never let go. He’d never felt so alive as he did when the other had revealed himself as a werewolf, eyes an electric blue while his own flashed red.
The walls that he had spent centuries building, easily slipped in his presence. And being the focus of his gaze, had his heart racing and by the smirk on the wolf’s face, he could hear it too.
What he hadn’t told the others over dinner was that he and Mundal had shared a meal together. The werewolf had invited him and he’d been helpless but to accept, wanting to be around him.
Never had anyone affected him so much.
He was known for his control, for being dutiful, dedicated to his master; but now for once he’d wanted something for himself, to be swept up in Mundal’s presence, and with that came the guilt that he was being selfish.
He wanted to bask in him, soak him up and that had scared him.
Methas had been at war with himself the whole day, wanting to follow what his heart desired but fearing making the wrong choices. That choosing himself wouldn’t be the right choice.
Their lunch together was a learning curve. Mundal was watching him closely, humming and grunting occasionally. Methas had felt like a lab mouse being observed.
The wolf’s hands often brushed against his, leaving a tingle in their wake– passing cutlery, holding his hand that held a glass while pouring a drink into it, placing shrimp that he peeled with his bare hands on Methas’s plate, watching with satisfaction as the vampire wordlessly ate it.
Methas was hyper aware of every movement the wolf made. But Mundal had been nothing but respectful the entire time, except for when he blatantly sniffed at him before departing. He hadn’t thought much of the smug smile the werewolf wore before bidding him farewell.
But now that he knows that he’d been covered in his scent all day and that despite him showering before meeting his brothers, Mundal’s scent still lingered on him, a small part of him is pleased.
Maybe he could try; let go and give them a try