Protection rights. That's not just Academy politics. That's pack law. Ancient and binding. It means I'm under Jett Pack authority and anyone who wants to take me has to challenge the pack itself.
It also means Caspian is publicly declaring I'm his to protect. Not just as Dominion Alpha. As future Alpha of his pack. The implication is clear to everyone in this room.
The dark-haired lieutenant speaks carefully. "You're claiming her? A Silverpelt?"
"I'm claiming protection rights." Caspian's voice is steel. "What comes after is my business and mine alone." His eyes find mine across the table. "Unless you object."
He's giving me a choice. In front of witnesses. I can refuse this. Walk out. Keep fighting alone.
Or I can accept and gain armor against Chase, against the Council, against everyone who wants me isolated and vulnerable.
The bond pulls between us and I feel his certainty, his determination, his possession barely leashed.
"I accept your protection." The words come out steady despite my racing heart.
Caspian's expression changes. Satisfaction. Heat. Possessiveness so intense it makes my breath catch. The bond flares and I feel his wolf surge to the surface, recognizing the acceptance as permission for more than just political protection.
"Then it's done." He looks at his inner circle. "Nova Bardot is under Jett Pack protection effective immediately. Anyone who harms her answers to me. Anyone who threatens her challenges this pack. Understood?"
Agreement ripples around the table. Some reluctant. Some calculating. All of them accepting.
"You're dismissed," Caspian says to them.
They file out silently and then it's just us. Alone in the circular room with pack history pressing down from the walls.
Caspian moves around the table toward me and every instinct I have screams to either run or submit. I do neither. Just stand my ground while he closes the distance.
He stops close enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. "You're not unknown anymore. You're Silverpelt, and you're mine to protect."
"Protection." I force the word out. "Not ownership."
His hand comes up fast, wrapping around my throat. Not squeezing. Just holding. Possessive. "For now." His thumb brushes over my pulse point and I know he can feel how fast my heart is racing. "But we both know where this is going."
The bond thrums between us and I can't deny it or pretend this is just political maneuvering. He's staking a claim and I'm letting him.
"Everyone will know by morning," he says quietly. "You'll have status you didn't have before. Protection. But it comes with expectations."
"What kind of expectations?"
"That you're mine." Simple and direct. "They'll expect you to defer to me in public. To accept my authority. To behave like you belong to Jett Pack."
Heat floods through me at the possessive language but I push it down. "And if I don't?"
"Then you make me look weak. And I can't protect what I can't control." His voice drops to something with an edge under it. "But I don't think you'll fight me on this. You're too smart. You know you need what I'm offering."
He's right. I hate that he's right.
"What about Julian?" The question slips out before I can stop it.
Caspian's expression goes hard. "What about him?"
"You agreed to mutual respect. To secrecy about his relationship with me."
"I did. And I'll keep my word." His hand releases my throat. "But make no mistake, Nova. In public, you're mine. Everyone sees you as mine. If he has a problem with that, he can take it up with me privately."
The territorial dominance in his voice makes my stomach clench. This is what an Alpha claiming looks like. Possessive. Absolute. Unwilling to share the appearance of ownership even if the reality is more complicated.
"I need to go." I step back and he lets me, but his eyes track the movement like a predator watching prey retreat.
