"Because I'm not that lion anymore."
"You're here on Council business. Following orders. Doing your duty. Sounds familiar."
"This is different."
Callum stood, moving around the desk. "From what I hear, you're keeping secrets from her. Investigating around her instead of with her. Making decisions about what she needs to know instead of trusting her to handle the truth. That's not partnership. That's you trying to control the situation."
"I'm trying to protect her."
"She doesn't need protecting." Callum's voice hardened. "She needs someone who'll stand beside her. Not in front of her. Not making choices for her. Beside her. As an equal. Can you do that?"
Dante wanted to say yes. Wanted to insist he'd changed enough to give Maeve what she needed. But Callum was right. He'd been keeping secrets. Making decisions. Trying to solve her problems without trusting her to be part of the solution.
Same patterns. Different decade.
"I don't know," he admitted.
"Then figure it out." Callum crossed his arms. "Because Hollow Oak changed me. Changed Maeve too. We're not the same lions who left that pride. She's stronger now. Fiercer. Built something that matters without anyone's help. You can't walk in here expecting her to be the female you remember. Expecting her to need you the way you think she should."
"What does she need?"
"Someone who'll stand still." Callum's expression gentled. "Someone who won't run when things get hard. Someone who trusts her enough to let her fight her own battles while knowing he's got her back. That's what a mate does. That's what she deserves."
"And if I can't give her that?"
"Then walk away now." Callum's voice carried finality. "Before you hurt her worse than you already have. Before she lets you in far enough that losing you again breaks something that can't be fixed."
Dante absorbed the words, letting them settle into his bones. Callum wasn't wrong. About any of it. Dante had been operating on instinct and guilt, trying to protect Maeve from threats while keeping her in the dark about the details.
Trying to control the situation instead of trusting her to handle it.
"You're right," he said.
"I usually am." Callum's mouth curved. "Comes with the territory of being married to a fae who calls me on my bullshit daily."
"How is Cora?"
"Perfect. Infuriating. Everything I didn't know I needed." Callum's expression softened. "She taught me that loving someone means trusting them. Even when it's scary. Even when you want to wrap them up and keep them safe from everything. You have to trust them to be strong enough to handle their own lives."
"That's harder than it sounds."
"Yeah." Callum moved to the door, opening it. "But if you can't do it, you don't deserve her. Simple as that."
Dante stood, recognizing the dismissal. "We good?"
"Getting there." Callum's expression turned honest. "I'm still pissed you didn't call. Still hurt you let ten years pass without a word. But I get why you're here. Why you're fighting for her. That counts for something."
"Not enough?"
"Not yet." Callum's mouth twitched. "But keep showing up. Keep proving you're not the lion who stayed behind. Maybe eventually we'll be good again." Callum offered his hand.
Dante took it, the handshake firm and steady. A promise more than a greeting.
"One more thing," Callum said as Dante stepped onto the porch. "Whatever secrets you're keeping from Maeve aboutHector? About the investigation? Tell her soon. Before she finds out on her own. Because when she does, and she will, those secrets will hurt worse than any truth you're trying to protect her from."
"I will."
"Good." Callum leaned against the doorframe. "And Dante? Don't sleep on her couch again. That's just pathetic."
