It’s A Wonderful Life - Volume 5 Chapter 45

One more step, and his Host was going to fall into the bathtub. Ira bit down on a piece of crunchy popcorn and frowned as the core stopped his teeth from biting through it. Using his hand to remove it from his mouth, he shoved it onto a papertowel.

Meanwhile, his Host was in the midst of a lover’s quarrel with his alpha.

Ira hummed as the next popcorn was bitten through cleanly.

The alpha advanced ominously on Ira’s Host and his Host backed away nervously. Eventually, his legs hit the the large bathtub behind him and he was forced to stop unless he wanted to fall in. For some reason, the alpha took this as permission to embrace his Host and shove his tongue inelegantly in his mouth, like some kind of wannabe treasure-diver.

Nauseua rose up Ira’s throat and he scowled, zooming out hurriedly.

It didn’t help.

“Ugh…” voicing his dissatisfaction at least made him feel marginally better for having been forced to witness that horror show.

“Something wrong?” Silas asked from his seat by the desk.

Ira shook his head and scowled harder. His Host finally pushed the alpha off him after several minutes of intense kissing. This resulted in a short bout of aggressiveness by his Host, who managed to get out of the alphas octopus-like grip on him.

His Host then fell in the tub.

Ira snorted.

He ate the last piece of popcorn and put the bowl down on the coffee table in front of him. He exhaled deeply and leaned back against the couch’s backrest. Silas was working by his desk and because Ira had nothing better to do, he just sat on the couch in the home-office and contemplated the stupidity of his Host.

With no more popcorn left to entertain himself with, and no longer desiring to watch his Host make a fool of himself because of the current s.e.x acts he was in the middle of, Ira stood from the couch. He stretched his back and grimaced at the crack he heard loud and clear.

“Did I just break something…?” Ira wondered out loud. Human limits weren’t his area of expertise.

Silas coughed out a thinly veiled laugh. “I think it would be a little more noticeable if you broke your back, Ira.”

“Hm.” Ira tilted his head as he walked over to Silas’ side. “I guess you’re right.”

He looked over Silas’ shoulder at what the man was working on, interested in the image of a bunch of guns on the computer screen. He put his hand on Silas’ shoulder and leaned over further to get a better look, completely ignoring the fact that he could just zoom in.

“What’s this about?” he asked, curious.

Silas hummed and glanced over at Ira. “It’s our newest shipment of guns.”

“Really? Can I have some?”

Silas sneaked up out of the chair and kissed his cheek, electing not to answer. Ira frowned, “Is that a no?”

He watched on as Silas walked over to the office’s door, throwing a smile over his shoulder as he left. With no answer supplied, Ira was gripped by the sudden knowledge that there were guns out there that could potentially be his, if only Silas agreed to it. And Ira had been lying pretty often about how dissatisfied he was with various things in order to get his hands on Silas’ baking masterpieces.

…That wasn’t going to affect his chances, was it?

Shivering at the unpleasant thought, he hurried after Silas.

Ira jogged his way through the winding hallways and open rooms, exiting the private part of the manor and entering the more public part where the members of Silas’ group did their thing and hung out. He hadn’t really spent any time here, except to quickly go through it on occasions when he was curious. But he had faith in his map.

He followed the map in his mind to arrive at the same location as the tiny dot that represented Silas. As he walked, he passed by many of Silas’ minions, who all showed their respect by bowing deeply at the sight of him.

Ira burst into the room Silas was located in and was met with the sight of eleven people staring at him in surprise. One of them, a woman dressed in a sharp grey pantsuit and with a pair of elegant gold-rimmed glasses, stood up from her seat. Her glasses glinted ominously in the light as she pushed them further up her nose.

“And who are you?” she demanded.

Silas, who was sitting at the end of the oval table, stated, “My mate.”

Silence. Then, “Excuse me, Jinguuji-dono, but did you say he’s your… mate? Isn’t he a beta?”

Silas shrugged and rose from his seat. “So? He’s still my mate.”

“But sir,” an old man with graying hair interjected, “don’t you already have a fated mate? Where is he, by the way? I can understand you wanting to educate him in our ways, but it’s been over a year. Surely he’s ready to take over the group by now.”

“Hah?” Silas crossed over the room to stand by Ira’s side. Then he said, “He’s dead.”

“What?!” the same old man with no common sense burst out. “When? How? Was it a rival group? Jinguuji-dono we must take revenge!”

“What are you even talking about?” Silas stared at the man with a deep gaze and clearly annunciated the words, “I killed him myself.”

In the ensuing silence, the only thing that could be heard was Ira laughing.

He couldn’t manage to hold it in and had to lean on Silas so as to not fall over. His whole body shook with the force of it. To think that Silas would be so callous in declaring his murderous ways. Ira had really not expected the man to say that so simply, as if it was an utterly obvious fact.

“Might I ask why you killed him? He would have given you powerful heirs.” the same woman as earlier asked respectfully.

Silas tilted his head and smiled. “I didn’t like him.”

Nobody was really sure what to say to that.

The meeting ended shortly thereafter, nobody able to focus on the matter at hand. They were all too distracted by a number of recent revelations, chief among which was Ira’s new status as Silas’ mate and the death of the old one. Even though they hadn’t consummated the mating or marked each other, Silas simply bulldozed over any objections.

And that was that. Once the meeting was over, Ira followed after Silas back to their part of the manor. Silas was silent the whole way over and Ira wondered what the matter was.

Was Silas mad at him? Was he going to stop baking his delicious cupcakes and cakes for him?

Because if so, measures had to be taken.

“Silas,” Ira began and jerked to a stop as Silas suddenly turned on his heel and ended up face to face with Ira.

Silas’ eyes were crazed, shining with something Ira couldn’t decipher, as he asked Ira, “Did you see their faces?”

“Yes.” Ira smirked. He tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes at the man. “Did you really kill your fated mate?”

“Yes.”

Ira frowned. “Why would you do that?”

Aren’t you an omega? Aren’t fated mates supposed to be destined to be together? Aren’t they supposed to be impossible to resist?

Silas gripped Ira’s hand and brought it up to his lips, kissing the knuckles gently.

“Because he wasn’t you.”

Glee burst to life in Ira’s stomach, a fuzzy warmth that traveled from his hand to his toes. Wasn’t that like saying that Ira was more important than his fated mate? Wasn’t that a really big deal in worlds like this?

Ira smiled at Silas and allowed the man to entwine their fingers together as they resumed walking.

Back in their own private part of the house, Silas lead the way to the kitchen. Ira settled down by the counter, watching with contentment as Silas buzzed around the kitchen baking. The neon pink apron with frills should have made him look ridiculous (and it sort of did) but Silas bore it with such seriousness that Ira couldn’t do more than let out a half-hearted giggle.

If it was anybody else wearing it, he would have already burst out laughing. But Silas could apparently pull off anything so it was a moot point.

Ira amused himself by watching his Host running away from the alpha in the meanwhile.

Didn’t his Host know not to run from predators?

His Host was running through a mall, apparently having been dragged their by the alpha to shop for new clothes. Because his Host’s current clothes were too cheap and embarrassed the alpha. Yeah, because cheap automatically meant inferior.

That alpha was a d.i.c.k.

Not to say that Ira wouldn’t have welcomed new clothes if he had been in his Host’s position. No, he would have taken advantage of the alpha and bled him dry of money, getting him to pay for everything. Wasn’t that what alpha in omegaverse worlds prided themselves on? About being the big, tuff, strong providers for their families while the omegas stayed home to take care of the kids?

Then nobody could blame Ira for taking advantage, when they were freely offering. Even if he ended up causing them to go bankrupt.

His Host managed to find shelter in a clothing store, one of those with mass-produced stuff that the alpha had been complaining about. Ira sneaked a finger into the batter in the bowl while Silas was busy setting out the forms for the cupcakes and licked it off of his finger. It was, of course, chocolate cupcakes being made and the batter was heavenly.

Silas looked up while Ira was in the middle of poking his finger in it again and gave Ira a look. Ira couldn’t decipher its meaning, but Silas then smiled at him so he assumed it was alright. While Ira licked his finger again for the batter, Silas took the bowl and placed out of his reach.

Ira pouted.

“If you eat it all there won’t be any cupcakes.” Silas exclaimed.

Ira huffed. Of course he knew that. He wasn’t stupid.

It was just… Silas was really good at baking, okay?

While Silas was putting the blobs of batter in the cupcake forms, Ira refocused his attention on his Host. His Host had somehow gotten stuck in a compromising situation with the alpha salesman in the clothing store.

Because the clerks in clothing stores were such deviants. They couldn’t be trusted.

It wasn’t like there were cameras everywhere or anything.

Ira scoffed and threw a glance at Silas who was still in the middle of placing the batter properly in the shapes. He then zoomed in on his Host’s situation and watched as the salesman (possibly a clerk, it wasn’t like Ira knew what people working in clothing stores were called) did something really gross; ran his tongue over Ira’s Host’s neck.

Right where the scent gland was. That was disgusting on a whole new level. Who would do that to someone they didn’t know? Think of the virus’ and bacteria and potential fighting skills. Granted, his Host didn’t have any, but one never knew.

One of these days, that guy was gonna lick someone who knew karate and then he would be dead.

Good riddance.

The alpha had somehow managed to track Ira’s Host’s scent and ran into the store just in time to see the salesman/clerk/whatever in the middle of his licking-spree.

The alpha’s face spelled murder.

He stalked over to Ira’s Host and gripped the offending clerk by his neck, tearing him off the omega. The clerk growled out, “What’s your problem?! He’s not mated!”

“He’s still mine.” the alpha declared and glared at the offending clerk, murderous intent seeping off of him. His Host took shelter behind the familiar alpha, not denying the claim at all.

Yeah, Ira really hated ABO worlds.