I watch the realization dawn on Logan’s face—the understanding that he’s lost something fundamental here. The unquestioning loyalty of his pack, the automatic deference to his decisions. It’s gone, replaced by doubt and challenge and the demand to be heard.
In that moment, he looks younger somehow. More vulnerable than I’ve ever seen him. Less the arrogant prince and more the man beneath the title—uncertain, fallible, human.
He straightens suddenly, decision visible in the set of his shoulders. “You’re right,” he says, looking directly at Poe. “I’ve been making decisions for all of you for too long. Assuming I know best. Assuming my protection is worth the price you pay for it.”
The admission stuns us all into silence. Even Poe looks taken aback, as if he expected more resistance, more argument, more of the Logan we all know.
“So let’s try something different,” Logan continues. “Maya will decide.”
My head snaps up, sure I’ve misheard. “What?”
“You’re the one with the most to lose either way,” Logan says, his golden eyes fixed on mine. “You’re the one the doctor wants. You’re the one who never chose to be part of this pack in the firstplace. So you decide. We stay and fight, or we run. Whatever you choose, we all support. No arguments.”
I stare at him, waiting for the catch, the condition, the subtle way he’ll manipulate the situation to get what he wants regardless of what I decide. But his expression remains open, his posture relaxed, his eyes steady on mine.
“You can’t be serious,” I say finally.
“I am,” he insists. “Completely serious.”
“Logan,” Ares begins, concern evident in his tone. “This isn’t?—“
“My decision to make anymore,” Logan finishes for him. “That’s the point, Ares. I’ve been making choices for all of you for too long. Especially for Maya.” He turns back to me. “So choose. Whatever you want, that’s what we’ll do.”
I look around at each of them in turn. Poe, watching me with wary calculation. Ares, concern etched into his features. Cillian, his pale eyes unreadable but intent on my face.
And Logan, offering me the one thing I never expected from him: agency. The power to choose. The acknowledgment that my voice matters.
Is it manipulation? A new tactic to get what he wants? Or is it genuine growth, a recognition of his past mistakes?
I don’t know. Can’t know. All I can do is take the opportunity presented and use it as best I can.
“I need time to think,” I say finally.
Logan nods, accepting this without protest. “Our ride out of the city leaves in a week. You can have until then to decide.”
The others nod in agreement, though I can see the tension in their postures, the urgency they’re suppressing for my sake. They want an answer now, a direction, a plan. But they’re giving me space instead. Giving me time.
It’s more than I expected. More than I’ve been given since this whole nightmare began.
As the meeting breaks up, each of them moving away to give me the space I requested, I remain seated at the table, the weight of decision heavy on my shoulders. For the first time since Logan forced the bond, I have real power in this dynamic. Real choice.
I just wish I knew which choice is the right one.
CHAPTER 12
Maya
After dinner, I lay in bed and stare at the ceiling of my bedroom, counting the water stains that bloom like strange flowers across the plaster.
A soft knock at my door pulls me from my thoughts. I sit up, smoothing my borrowed t-shirt over my knees.
“Who is it?” I call, genuinely curious which one of them worked up the nerve to come to me first.
I’ve been waiting for this—for them to come, one by one, to try to sway my decision. The only question was which of them would be first.
“It’s Poe,” comes the reply, his voice muffled through the wood.
Interesting.
