Hate Me A Little Less

"What's gotten into you?" Myrven asked after closing the door of the wooden hut behind him. "I can already see the elders' furious faces! They're going to tear off your head this time."

Allen responded with his usual lazy smile as he sat on a rug. The black mammoth's fur was well-maintained and soft to the touch; he couldn't help but run his fingers through it. This tribe's lifestyle was oh-so-different from his. It was pretty interesting. He especially liked the rough and simplistic architecture and the layout of the village. The huts were clustered next to each other, and trees stood in between. It had a natural charm.

"Are you listening to me, you madman?!"

Myrven's roar seemed to go in one ear and out the other. Like always, his chief was moving at his own pace, not caring about others whatsoever. Myrven had stayed silent in the presence of Corriel as a sign of respect, but now that it was only the three of them, he wasn't about to shut his mouth any time soon. He wouldn't challenge his chief's authority in front of strangers, but it was another story when they were alone. The elders tasked him to chaperon the young chief and put him back on the right track whenever needed. Or he should say, try to put him on the right track. This stubborn man had his ways to get what he wanted.

"I asked if you're listening to me!"

"Yes, I am," Allen consented to answer. "You're worrying for nothing."

"How am I worrying for nothing?!" Myrven scolded. "You asked the chief to give you his son! Not anyone else but his own darn son!"

"Wrong."

"How the hell am I wrong?"

"I didn't ask for the chief's son; I asked for my mate. My fated, destined mate."

The words, spoken with indolence, resounded like thunder in both of the aides' ears. Their mouths fell open, and their eyes bulged, seemingly about to fall off.

'What are they? Fish?' Allen thought, amused.

"You should see the look on your faces. Priceless."

Layla looked at Myrven; Myrven looked at Layla. Their expressions mirrored each other, and they awkwardly coughed. 

"Are you being serious, or are you kidding?"

"I'm as serious as one can be."

"I take back what I said," Myrven smiled in disbelief. "The elders are going to be overjoyed."

"Right?"

Allen crossed his legs, propping his chin in his hand. He stared at his two aides, who could barely contain their excitement. Destined mates were a sacred concept in their tribe, something no one had the right to look upon unfavorably or intervene in. Finding one's fated partner was akin to receiving a blessing from the gods. It was especially true for shamans. 

"But don't you think your method to bring him close to you is a little coercive? At first glance, I can already say this guy has a fiery temper, and forcibly making him stay by your side will surely make him hate your guts."

"He already hates my guts."

"Allen, be serious!"

"Oh, but I am! You know as well as I do that Nyell has been fighting nonstop with our tribe's people, and blood has already been shed. He'd rather die than agree to go on a 'date' with me." 

"Still…"

"Don't worry too much. To tame a beast, you have to shackle them first."

"You do know we're half-human and not just beasts walking on two legs, right?"

"Hm?"

"I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I worry for your poor mate's future."

As an answer, Allen laughed softly. 

***

Nyell stared at the wooden hut for a dozen minutes before gathering his courage and knocking on the door. He'd come immediately after ending his conversation with his father, but now that he was about to meet with Allen again, he felt the urge to flee. He didn't want to see that man. Interacting with him gave birth to a violent turmoil in his guts. His body reacted weirdly, and he hated it. Even though he was the impulsive type, he never allowed his instincts to overtake his mind. But near his destined mate, his mind turned into mush. It wasn't a pleasant feeling. 

"Come in."

A deep breath later, Nyell entered the hut. The light was dim, yet he could see Allen as clear as day. His being seemed to shine. Or maybe it was his white tunic that made him look so sparkly.

"Did you come to a conclusion?"

The languid voice was like a sharp dagger, pricking Nyell's ears. He had to turn his tongue seven times, reminding himself that he wasn't here to start a fight before opening his mouth.

"We accept your offer."

"As you should."

Nyell felt his eyelids twitch from repressed anger. He tried to be courteous in his following words. But, of course, he failed. "I'm certainly not the first to tell you this, but did you know that you're an asshole?"

"I've been told, yes. And you're probably right. I don't play fair." 

"At least you know," Nyell mumbled, taken aback by the man's frankness. He thought he would deny it, and now that Allen agreed, he didn't know what to say. He expected some reaction, not… Well, not nothing!

Beside him, Nyell thought he heard a muffled chuckle. He glanced at the male aide, and the man avoided his eyes, looking at the ceiling. Now that Nyell took the time to size him up, he realized this one wasn't to be trifled with. Unlike Allen, who was slender, the aide was covered from head to toe in neat muscles. His shoulders were broad, and he must have been at least six feet and five inches tall. He had platinum blond hair and piercing gray eyes. Next to him, the petite woman looked like a child, especially since her bosom was almost flat. They made a strange duo.

"Layla, Myrven, can you give us some space?" Allen asked. "I'd like to talk to him in private."

"Try not to scare the poor kid, alright?" The male aide, who Nyell guessed was Myrven, sighed. He then proceeded to drag Layla outside. The woman seemed overly interested in what their chief had to say, perking up her ears. Nyell didn't know whether to laugh or cry at her behavior. She was like a curious pup.

Once his aides were out, Allen turned his head toward Nyell and said matter-of-factly, "I presume you're not interested in becoming my mate."

"No shit!"

"Then how about this? After resolving the disappearance cases, you'll follow me back to my tribe if you hate me a little less. But if you still hate me as much as you do now and here, I'll let you go. I'm not too keen on forcibly making you my mate. However, until I leave your village, you'll have to accommodate me and be 'mine' just as I have asked. Ah, but don't worry, I'll try not to do anything that will get on your nerves too much. I do want you to hate me a little less, after all."

"Hate you a little less?" Nyell smirked, pretending to be deaf and not hearing most of the man's nonsense. "Not fall for you?"

"If you fall for me, all the better, but I have a hunch it won't happen any time soon. And I don't like to rush things."

"…" Nyell took a moment of silence before retorting, "I could very well lie about my degree of hatred toward you."

"You could. But you won't."

"What makes you so sure?"

"My instinct."

Nyell blinked in disbelief. What was he supposed to answer to that…?