This was the part Miles had never understood -- not when he'd challenged Corrigan for the role of Alpha or the countless times he'd challenged Naseer for Beta. He hadn't fully grasped how the roles fed into one another, how one wasn't complete without the other, how a true Beta would fill in the gaps of a true Alpha without question, without hesitation, and vice-versa. Miles had wanted Beta as a consolation prize, because he was physically incapable of defeating Corrigan for Alpha. But he never would've had the courage, the guts, the willingness to sacrifice himself as a true Beta would. As Naseer had.

So Corrigan tucks closer against his Beta, arms around his waist, nuzzling into the side of his neck and letting him collapse, letting him fall apart the way he hadn't been able to for months. Later, he'll feel guilty for being so remote, for disappearing while his body had stayed, silent and untouchable. But now there's nothing but comfort, love, adoration and gratitude pouring through their link as he finds his old scarred mark on Naseer's neck and kisses it softly.

"You won't need to, not anymore," he murmurs, grip tightening, eyes closed as he meets Naseer's grief with strength, something he'd been incapable of before. His grief is still there, limitless, endless, but he'd been given enough time by Naseer's bravery to build up a small amount of his own again. He kisses Naseer's neck again, reaches up and turns his face enough that he can kiss his mouth as well, soft, an apology. "Never again. All right? I'm -- not going to leave us again. Not again. We'll survive this, 'seer. I'm not leaving you again."