He paused.
“You think I didn’t hear the whispers when Carter and Hayes got close?”
A few soldiers looked down.
“I’m not ashamed of who I am,” Granger said. “And nobody here should be either. You show up. You do the work. You carry your weight. That’s what matters.” His voice stayed level. “And if that’s not enough for some of you,” he added, “then maybe you’re the one who doesn’t belong here.”
He stepped back.
Ramirez gave a curt nod. “Carry on.”
And they did.
Later that night Mac heard the story moving through the Alpha Company barracks.
“Did you hear what Granger said?”
“He owned it. Didn’t flinch.”
“Still the same guy who pulled Reese out of that ambush last month.”
“Yeah. That’s the point.”
No one wrote it down, but Mac could tell it stuck.
By morning Mac could feel the shift in the air around the company.
And that was when the orders for awards came down.
It started with an email.
Subject: AWARDS & DECORATIONS – OP ICEBREAKER ENGAGEMENT
Mac watched as Captain Baxter printed it out and pinned it to the TOC wall above the map board like always. Quiet and official. By midday word had spread.
Mac stood in front of it first, scanning the names. Melvin stepped up beside him. Distinguished Service Cross for both of them, and a Purple Heart beside Melvin’s name.
Neither said anything at first.
Melvin blinked once. “They put it through.”
Mac nodded. “They should have.”
Melvin glanced at him. “I guess the convoy situation deemed me worthy.”
“Doc still says removing it risks more than leaving it,” Melvin said. “So it stays.”
Mac nodded.
The doctor had smelled wrong in the way only another shifter ever did. Not wolf. Not cat.
Something heavier. Beastkin, maybe.
It wasn’t unusual. Mac had learned early that more of the medical staff were supernatural than most soldiers ever realized. Someone had to be there when things went wrong. The Council made sure of that. Quiet protections. Quiet gatekeepers when one of their own got hurt.
The doctor hadn’t asked questions about Melvin’s healing. And Melvin hadn’t offered answers.
“It’s enough of a reminder without the medal,” Melvin said. “But… I guess.”
