“You didn’t lie,” I say quietly.
“No,” she answers.“I don’t like lying.But I didn’t tell them everything, either, and it still feels like a lie.”
I stop walking.She keeps going for two steps before she realizes and turns back, eyes guarded.
“You’re not angry,” she says, surprised.
“I’m not,” I agree.“But I’m not blind either.”The bond tightens, not in pain, not in warning, but in awareness.Like a door cracked open just enough to let light through.“Whatever you’re holding back,” I continue, “it’s heavy.I can feel it pulling at you, weighing you down.”
Her jaw tightens.“I told you I needed time.”
“And I gave it to you.”I step closer, careful, deliberate.“This isn’t me taking it back.”
She exhales, shoulders slumping slightly.“Then what is it?”
“It’s me saying that if this puts the pack in danger, I need to know.”
She flinches.There it is.“I’m not the danger,” she says quickly.Too quickly.
“I didn’t say you were.”
“You don’t have to,” she snaps, frustration bleeding through her control.“Everyone always does eventually.”
I hold her gaze.I don’t look away and I don’t soften the truth.“This pack has lived through hunters, traitors, and broken shifters who didn’t think they deserved a place here,” I say steadily.“We don’t survive by pretending we’re invincible.We survive by trusting the ones who see what we can’t.”
Her breath shudders.
I lower my voice.“You’re not an outsider here.Not anymore.”
She looks at me like she wants to believe it, and like believing might shatter her.“I was exiled for less than this,” she whispers.
That hits harder than I expect.“Then your pack failed you,” I say flatly.“That doesn’t make you wrong.”
The bond hums, warm and insistent, threading reassurance through her fear.We stand there for a long moment, the forest pressing closer.Somewhere beyond the boundary, something moves, too far to scent, too deliberate to ignore.
“You’re going on the raid,” I say suddenly.
Her head snaps up.“What?”
“I know that look,” I continue.“You’re already there in your head.”
She hesitates.“I can help.”
“I know.”Silence stretches.“But I won’t let you be used as bait,” I add.“And I won’t let you walk into a kill zone without backup.”
Her lips press together.“You don’t get to decide that.”
“No,” I agree.“But I get to stand with you when it happens.The moment you accepted me, accepted the bond, you knew I would do anything to protect you, even if I didn’t say it out loud.”
The bond flares, strong and steady, and for the first time since this started, her fear shifts, no longer centered on being exposed, but on what it might cost me.
“Someone’s going to get hurt,” she says quietly.
“That’s already true, it’s always true,” I reply.“The Hunters aren’t setting up a picnic for us.”
She studies my face, searching for doubt, for hesitation.She won’t find it.
“Okay,” she says finally.“Then you need to listen when I say something feels wrong.Even if you don’t understand why.”
