Chapter Text
If Charles gets one more courting gift this fortnight, he’s going to lose his fucking mind.
His heart thuds slow and heavy in his chest, as if it carried the weight of decisions that would haunt him for a lifetime. He stares down at the pelt, a haphazard of a workpiece that almost appears mocking with its carelessness.
There used to be tradition in his pack, before the current head Alpha.
Even though he was a mere pup when their last sane Alpha lead, Charles remembers it clearly; Healers are not to be courted. Charles is not to be courted. Becoming a healer was a deliberate decision. There is not a single Alpha Charles wants to get courted by. And yet. And yet.
Charles kicks the pelt out of the way, so it wouldn’t block the entrance. There is a scowl on his face as he rounds the healer's house, slipping into the awaiting forest with a wool lined basket in his arms.
He knows the Alpha that is courting him. It’s the only one who dares do so.
George.
And if Charles didn’t hate his guts. Neither of them is subtle about it. George is open with courting Charles, shameless. Charles is open with telling him to fuck off when George thinks it’s funny to corner the omega in his own house.
Truth be told, Charles is scared.
One thing he realized when he first attended the monthly pack gatherings under the full moon, is that most packs weren’t as alpha-driven as his own. And truthfully, Charles isn’t sure how long he could keep telling George to fuck off until the Alpha finally snapped.
Charles tries not to think about it. He moves through the undergrowth of the forest, letting the crisp morning air kiss his skin where his arms laid bare. The sun is throwing soft shades across the floor, peeking from behind branches and leaves. It smells of mint, wet stone and morning dew.
Like this, Charles could imagine a life where he was seen as more than just breeding stock, more than a thing to be possessed, to be owned. A life where his opinions mattered, where there wasn’t always an alpha in his ear trying to correct him on subjects Charles had trained knowledge in.
But an omega could only hope.
Charles' naked feet tip toe over the chilled stones as he balanced his way across the river. The water shimmered as it splashed against rocks and when Charles crouched to admire its wilderness he could make out small river shrimps struggling against the stream.
A sense of calm washed over him as he watched, birds chirping above.
The pack rarely hunted here. Behind the river grew various herbs, from nettles to lavender and watermint. Additionally it smells soft like cedarwood thanks to the trees that grow in this area. Most wolves were at least smart enough not to hunt where medicine was lush and resourceful, not during the warmer periods.
Charles finally skipped past the river and started examining the burnet leaves growing there. It hasn’t grown back as much as Charles hoped, but it would do. He picked the bigger leaves, leaving the smaller stems to grow.
Next he searched for feverfew, as he had run out of it and the number of wolves with headaches increases during this part of the season, when the spring melted into the summer and the sun was unforgiving.
He spends his morning picking and examining herbs until his basket is filled, only interrupted once by a beta who had chased a weasel into the undergrowth.
When he gets back to his house, he finds George sitting on one of the patient beds. Charles suppresses a sigh, but doesn’t give him much attention. He reaches up towards the poppy jar to fill it.
A hand wraps around his waist.
The jar nearly slips.
“You didn’t like your gift?” George’s breath is warm on Charles neck and he has to will himself to relax so his body wouldn’t shake.
“I am a healer. I’m not supposed get gifts.” Charles settles for the mere truth, but George just chuckles as his hand wanders beneath his shirt.
A gasp escapes him at the cold hand tickling across the planes of his stomach.
“You will be my mate one way or another.” he says.
Charles twists out of his hold, feeling the phantom touches even when he pushes the alpha away. George leans against the wall, head cocked.
“It’s not like anyone is going to stop me.” He shrugs, regarding his nails.
With a frown, Charles steps over to the desk where he has sorted his herbs. No. No one is going to stop George, especially not after he becomes the head alpha. The knowledge settles deep in his marrow, his hands trembling with it. He couldn’t fathom it. A future where he carried George pups.
Thankfully, a beta enters the house and George loses interest.
“See you later,” he calls delightfully, before slipping outside. The beta regards him with an irritated look, but Charles couldn’t really figure out his emotions. While Charles was scentless due to tradition, healers take herbs to make themselves less enticing or threatening to the common wolf, betas just straight up don’t smell like much. Maybe sweat and grime, if they had been out hunting.
“Hey,” the beta greets. “You alright?”
When he swallows, he feels a lump in his throat, but he smiles regardless. He gestures to one of the beds, where he examines the beta once he has sat down. It’s a younger one he isn’t too familiar with. Lance, if he remembers correctly.
His family is pretty highly regarded, much like George’s.
“I’m fine,” Charles starts, stretching out his palm for Lance to place his wrist in. The beta does so without hesitation. “What can I do for you?”
🌙
It’s a cloudless night.
Since Charles’ became the Head healer, the appearance of the full moon has always been bittersweet. He has yet to train an apprentice, so he was alone with George and the Head Alpha as they wandered along the river. The only good thing about Fred was that he didn’t think much of Charles and consequently ignored his existence.
The Alphas walked at the front as he trailed behind, the sun long gone and replaced by dark shadows and white streaks of light casting against their figures. By now the path was familiar enough that Charles needn’t worry about whether he could keep up with the two. He could find his way to the little island himself if they went too far ahead.
When they arrive it’s already bustling with wolves talking to another, discussing trades and less important matters before the official gathering begins. Charles always thought it was a delight to see other Healers. It’s probably the only reason why he isn’t losing his sanity yet.
“Lando!” He greets the younger wolf, a fellow omega from the McLaren pack.
“It’s good to see you,” The other greets, turning away from their own pack’s heir. For a moment, his eyes scan over Charles' face as he comes closer. “How have you been?”
Charles fiddles with his fingers as he checks out the surrounding wolves, but they are all occupied in their own conversations.
“Same old, same old.” Charles’ whispers, hooking his arm in Lando’s own to drag him to a darker place. “I need something.”
Lando raises a brow at that, but isn’t too bothered.
“Yeah? You still owe me for the Tansy I gave you.” He says, but it’s more teasing than accusing.
Charles licks his lips, finally letting go of his arm.
“Wolfsbane.” Charles' voice breaks around the word and Lando’s eyes widen in shock. His head whirls around, before he pushes Charles into another more secluded corner.
Considering the small island is all but open space, the few bushes are the only place that would do.
“What. The. Fuck. Charles?” Lando hisses and Charles bites his tongue. His stomach sinks and for a second he wonders if it was such a good idea to ask him after all. But Lando was his only hope. What could he do?
“Are you planning on killing someone?” The other omega presses, face twisted in morbid confusion.
Charles shakes his head quickly, his eyes briefly searching for his own Head Alpha and George. He exhales a shaky breath.
“I don’t need it for use. Just. In case.” Charles looks back over to Lando and the omega’s jaw was slack. Guilt wraps around Charles' throat and he casts his eyes to the ground. Shit.
“In case,” Lando clarifies. “you need to kill someone?”
Charles shakes his head once more.
“No, Lando, please, I am not going to do anything, just, if it comes to it, if-“ His mouth seals shut as he sees George looking at him across the island, eyebrow raised. He cocks his head and Charles knows he needs to get going.
“Lando, I-“
“I trust you, Charles,” Lando finally says. He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling. “But I haven’t even seen wolfsbane once in my life. I don’t think anyone has. Rumors say there are some in the Red Bull territory, that’s it.”
Charles blinks. The Red Bull territory. Of course. The only pack worse than his own. Charles wouldn’t flee to them if his own pack cast him away. He grits his teeth. His eyes search for the mentioned pack and they weren’t far from his own. All of the four wolves gathered are Alphas..
“I’m going to throw up.” Charles comments and at that Lando finally relaxes a bit, scoffing.
“Yeah. Heard the new Head Alpha is strict as fuck. Wouldn’t want to get anywhere near that.”
That, as in Max Verstappen.
Charles doesn’t have to search for him, because he stands out, always has. Even when he used to be a mere heir, he drew in gazes like a magnet. Charles thinks he looks even scarier than the last Head Alpha, Jos Verstappen.
Max very well proved as much two moons ago, when he entered the gathering and Jos was nowhere to be seen. These days, Head Alphas change when they become too old or through court decisions. Max was the first wolf in decades who had not only challenged the Head Alpha, but walked away from it. Alpha Jos.
Charles doesn’t even want to start thinking what that means for the future of the Red Bull Pack.
In the meantime, Charles catches sight of George who had started to charge into their direction. His heart jumps in his throat and he quickly noses at Lando’s scentless gland behind his ears in a sign of affection.
“I really need to go. Next moon?”
Lando smiles softly. “Next moon.”
Charles doesn’t waste any time and meets George in the middle. The Alpha smelled a little burnt around the edges, clearly displeased with his behavior. Charles keeps his head down as he leads him back to the front where Fred stood.
“Stop mingling around. You have a job to do.” George presses out.
There is nothing Charles’ had to add to that, so he simply kept his mouth shut. He wasn’t necessarily sure what this job entailed. He wasn’t supposed to talk to other Alpha’s, George had made that clear. It was a miracle he managed to catch Lando from time to time, only because Lando was sneaky enough about it.
In the end, Charles feels like George wants him to do nothing but sit pretty.
The other wolves slowly start to settle down as the full moon reaches its peak and Charles is tense with George’s arm wrapped around his waist. No one did that with their healer and yet most wolves barely batted an eye at the close proximity the other held him.
Charles felt a shiver run down his spine and George’s arm tightened at the little tremor. When Charles lifts his gaze without thinking, he catches icy blue eyes staring at him.
He flinches at the sheer intensity of it, his breath catching in his throat as he looks back to the front. George growls lowly, pressing him closer.
“What’s wrong with you? Stop wriggling around like that.”
Charles just nods obediently, keeping his eyes cast on the ground. He still felt the eyes on him, however. For a moment, his stomach churned. Did he hear his conversation with Lando earlier? No. That couldn’t be possible. He was too far away for that.
Wetting his lips, Charles swallows.
It’s only when Toto Wolf starts talking that the surrounding wolves quite down.
“It’s a pleasure that all packs are able to gather under the full moon tonight, once more. We are bringing forth our news in peace, as Luna smiles down on us tonight.” His voice rang through the clearing.
“The Mercedes pack has finally been able to clear our territory of the rogue that had plagued us for the last moon. We’ve strengthened our borders as well.”
Charles tunes out the rest of the gathering. Most of the time, it wasn’t anything new. The packs kept tabs on each other and tried to keep peace between the borders. Sometimes they announced new pups, any danger that was bothering the pack.
It’s only when an Alpha with dirt-blonde hair steps up with his head held high that Charles was snapped from his peaceful bubble.
“We noticed some unusual activity along the border of the Ferrari pack.” Is all he says.
Next to him, George stiffens and Charles watches with bated breath as their head Alpha snaps his head toward Max.
“Excuse me?” Fred says and wolves started muttering between themselves.
“As I said,” Max’s voice was firm. “There is unusual activity on our borders, coming from the Ferrari pack.”
Max finally turns his head towards Fred, raising his brows. “Care to explain?”
“What a cunt.” George hisses next to him.
His smell was turning unbearable and Charles turned his head away in an attempt to catch some fresh air. He doesn’t get much.
“I can assure you Verstappen, there is nothing going on.” Fred says, calm.
“That’s funny, you know,” Max starts. “My Trackers say otherwise.”
“Then control your Trackers better and make sure they stop talking such bizarre bullshit.”
If Charles hadn’t looked at Max in that moment, he would’ve missed the faint twitch in his eye. All of a sudden, he wanted nothing but to head back to pack grounds.
“Oh, but I did check.” Max says.
For a few agonizing moments, the clearing is dead quiet. And then-
A low growl ripples through the clearing.
Charles feels the rumble beside him, pressed to his side as George glares up at the Head Alpha. Max’s eyes flash dangerously, before the blue returns again. It’s subtle, almost nothing, but Charles feels the shift in energy around him.
Wolves have started to move nervously, shifting where they stood.
Max doesn’t move, nor flinch.
“I don’t bring baseless claims to neutral ground,” he says coolly. “There have been kills on our side of the border.”
A gasps rings out from somewhere farther in the back and George’s arm squeezes around his waist. Charles shifts uneasily.
Fred smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding,” he says, voice smooth but clipped. “I’ll look into it personally.”
Max nods once, curt. “See that you do. I’d hate to think your wolves are straying into territories they’re not equipped to survive in.”
The rest of the gathering goes as smoothly as manageable after that. In other words, the head Alphas keep their updates short and sweet and they start parting earlier than usual. When Fred joins at their side, his teeth are gritted.
“That’s why such young Alphas shouldn’t be leading packs.” He barks in irritation.
Charles follows behind as they leave the island, trying not to get caught up in the swarm of wolves. Except, there is a heavy presence at his side the moment he loses sight of George and Fred.
“You are a healer?” A deep voice asks beside him, though it sound la more like a statement than a question. Charles startles. His eyes briefly snap to the voice and his heart hammers in his chest when he sees Max. He isn’t able to hold the Alpha’s gaze, so he scans the place for his packmates.
“Yes.” He confirms.
Relief floods him as he finally catches sight of George’s back and he doesn’t hesitate to run after him. If he thinks about it, it’s almost comical. He has never felt relieved to see George.