Chapter 251 Home

Chapter 251 Home
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Milo's POV

Everything hurts.

That was my first coherent thought as Damon carried me bridal style through the celebrating crowds. Every nerve ending seemed to be on fire, every muscle screaming from the strain of whatever had just happened.

But I was alive. Against all odds, against all logic, I was alive.

I could feel Damon through our bond… his overwhelming relief, his joy, his guilt, his love. All of it poured through the connection between us in waves that made me feel dizzy.

Everything felt both familiar and foreign at the same time.

I had died.

The knowledge sat heavy in my mind as Damon carried me through the corridors toward our chambers. I remembered the explosion, the searing pain, and then... nothing. A void, so complete, so absolute, that even now the memory of it made me shiver.

"Cold?" Damon asked immediately, his arms tightening around me. He must have felt it through our bond.

"No," I whispered, pressing my face against his shoulder. "Just... remembering."

His steps faltered for just a moment before continuing. "Dont think about it. Just focus on being here. On being alive."

Alive. Such a simple word, but it carried so much weight now. I was alive when I shouldn't be. Breathing when my lungs should be still. Holding my son when I should be nothing but ash and memory.

My son, God's, my son.

I looked down at the tiny bundle cradled against my chest, wrapped in soft blankets that smelled faintly of lavender and milk. His purple eyes… my eyes… gazed up at me with such trust, such innocent recognition, that fresh tears spilled down my cheeks.

"Hello, little one," I whispered, my voice still hoarse and unfamiliar to my own ears. "I'm sorry I took so long to meet you properly."

The baby cooed softly, his small hand reaching up to pat my cheek. The gesture was so simple, so pure, that something inside me cracked open. All the fear, all the pain, all the uncertainty of the past months came pouring out in silent sobs that shook my entire body.

"Milo," Damon said gently, pausing in the middle of the corridor. "It's okay."

"They loved me," I choked out, the words tumbling free before I could stop them. "Did you see them, Damon? The pack. They gave their blood for me.

My whole life, I had been unwanted. A burden. An omega worth nothing more than breeding stock or a political pawn. Even after proving myself again and again, I had always carried that kernel of doubt… that maybe I would never be loved or valued in this world.

But in that hall, watching the whole pack gathered, their wrist dripping with their blood… something fundamental had shifted inside me.

"Of course they wanted you to live," Damon said, his voice rough with emotion. "You are their hero. You faced your…the queen and won.

I noticed his hesitation.

It was still a shock to me that millen could do what she wanted to do, and almost succeeded. That was a part of whatever demons I have left I have never really come to terms with.

"Damon," I whispered. "I need to... we need to talk about what happened. About what I became."

"Tomorrow," he said firmly. "Tonight, you rest. Tonight, we just exist together. Everything else can wait."

And for once, I didn't argue.

We reached our chambers, and Damon carefully shouldered the door open. The room was exactly as I vaguely remembered from before the battle… large and comfortable, with a massive bed covered in soft furs. The new addition being the small cradle positioned near the window.

A cradle I had never seen my son sleep in.

Damon laid me down gently on the bed, his hands lingering on my shoulders as if he was afraid I might disappear if he let go. "How are you feeling? Really?"

I took inventory of my body, something I hadn't had the chance to do since waking. Everything ached with a deep, bone-weary exhaustion. My wolf lior was silent for now but i know he was just getting accustomed to coming back from the dead. My muscles felt weak, as if I had been bedridden for months rather than days. But underneath that, I felt... different.

Stronger, somehow. More complete.

"Like I have been torn apart and put back together wrong," I admitted.

"Its normal, i guess.” Damon said quietly, sitting beside me on the bed. "Daphne said it will take some time.

I nodded slowly,

Damon, you need to know when i was in the…unconsciouse, things happened….” I trailed off, remembering what it was in the void.

"Dont worry love. We will figure it out," Damon promised, his hand finding mine and threading our fingers together. "Together. You are not alone in this, Milo. Never again."

The conviction in his voice made my chest tighten. I opened my eyes to find him watching me with such intensity, such devotion, that I had to look away.

"I don't know how to do this," I whispered. "How to be a father. How to be a king. How to be... whatever I am now."

"The same way you have done everything else," Damon said, reaching out to cup my cheek and turn my face back toward him. "With courage, compassion, and that stubborn determination that makes you impossible to defeat."

A weak laugh escaped me. "I died, Damon. I would say that counts as defeat."

"And yet here you are." His thumb brushed away a tear I hadn't realized was falling. "Still fighting. Still surviving. Still protecting the ones you love."

My son chose that moment to squirm in my arms, making a small noise of protest. I looked down to find him watching me with those big purple eyes.

"What do we call him?" I asked suddenly. "We can't keep saying 'our son' or 'the baby' forever."

Damon smiled, the expression transforming his entire face. "I was waiting for you to wake up before choosing. It didn't feel right to name him without you."

Something warm bloomed in my chest at those words. Even in his grief, even thinking I was gone forever, Damon had waited for me.

"Thank you," I whispered.

We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, both of us studying our son's perfect features. He had my eyes and hair color, but Damon's strong jawline and the shape of his nose. A perfect blend of both of us.

"Ezra," I said suddenly, the name appearing in my mind as if it had always been there. "It means 'helper' or 'strong.' He helped bring me back from death. He will be strong like his father."

"Fathers," Damon corrected gently. "He will be strong like both his fathers."

"Ezra," Damon repeated, testing the name. A smile spread across his face. "It's perfect."

As if in agreement, our son…Ezra… made a happy gurgling sound, his tiny hand wrapping around my finger with surprising strength.

"Hello, Ezra," I whispered, pressing another kiss to his forehead. "I'm your papa. And I promise you, I will never leave you again. No matter what happens, no matter what threatens us, I will always find my way back to you."

Through our bond, I felt Damon's emotions surge.

"I love you," Damon said quietly, the words simple but carrying the weight of everything unspoken between us. "I should have said it sooner. Should have shown you every day instead of making you prove your worth over and over. But I'm saying it now, and I'll keep saying it until you believe it."

My breath caught. In all our time together, through everything we'd been through, those were words I'd never dared hope to hear.

"I love you too," I whispered back, my voice breaking.

We stayed like that, just basking in the soft silence between us.

“Okay, its time to get you in bed. Else daphne will have one of my balls served in a platter.”damons said, breaking the comfortable silence.

Despite everything, I found myself laughing. The sound was rusty and broken, but genuine.

Outside our window, I could hear them, the pack beginning their celebration. Music and laughter drifted through the air.

For the first time in my life, I truly felt that belonged somewhere. Not as a tool or a weapon or a means to an end, but as myself. As Milo, omega and king, father and mate, survivor and savior.

Together alone with my mate and my son, I felt something I hadn't felt in a very long time.

Peace.

I was home