“ARIS watches you constantly.”
“For my protection.” The words came out automatically, then she winced. “That phrase means something different now, doesn’t it?”
“Probably.”
She set two cups of tea on the table and sat down across from him. Her hands wrapped around her cup, but she didn’t drink.
“Tell me about yourself,” she said.
“What do you want to know?”
“Why did you leave your pack?”
There it was. The question he’d been avoiding, even in his own mind.
“It’s a long story.”
“I have time.” She said it without irony, and he almost laughed at the unintentional dark humor. Of course she had time. Time was all she’d ever had.
He set down his cup.
“I was an enforcer,” he began. “The pack’s warrior, its protector. My closest friend—Rykan—he was the rightful heir to the alpha position. Strong, honorable, the kind of leader a pack deserves.”
“What happened to him?”
“He was betrayed.” The word came out harder than he’d intended. “His stepmother and his supposed mate conspired against him. They wanted his weaker half-brother to lead instead—someone they could control. Rykan was forced out, and instead of tearing the pack apart to claim what was his, he chose to leave.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s terrible.”
“It was. But I understood his choice. Sometimes the honorable path isn’t the triumphant one.” His jaw tightened. “He asked me to stay. To look after the pack from the inside. To protect the people who couldn’t protect themselves.”
“And did you?”
“For a while.” The memories rose up—cold and bitter, tinged with the specific shame of compromised principles. “But the new leadership... they didn’t want a protector. They wanted an enforcer in the other sense. Someone to intimidate and hurt people who hadn’t done anything wrong.”
“They wanted you to harm innocent people?”
“They wanted me to be their weapon.” He met her eyes. “I refused. I walked away instead.”
“Like Rykan did.”
“Not exactly. Rykan left to preserve the peace. I left because I couldn’t stomach being complicit anymore.” He shook his head. “But I’ve spent the past three years wondering if I made the right choice. Whether I abandoned people who needed me. Whether I should have fought harder, found another way?—”
“No.”
The word was so firm, so certain, that it stopped him mid-thought.
She leaned forward, her blue eyes fierce with conviction. “You didn’t abandon anyone. You refused to become something monstrous, even when powerful people were trying to force you into that shape. That’s not abandonment. That’s integrity.”
“You sound very sure.”
“I am sure.” She reached across the table and took his hand. Her fingers were warm against his. “My father convinced himself that caging me was protection. Your pack’s leaders convinced themselves that cruelty was strength. Neither of them was right. Sometimes the most honorable choice is the one that looks like giving up.”
He stared at her. This small female who had never seen the world, who had spent her entire life isolated from any meaningful human contact, had just articulated something he’d been struggling to accept for three years.
“How do you do that?” he asked.
“Do what?”
