FAYEÂ
“What do you mean by you didn’t interfere?” I stood up now, disbelief rising with every word.Â
“Exactly what you heard,” he said casually.Â
The bluntness of it felt like a slap.Â
“In the name of what?” I demanded. “Toughening him up?”Â
His eyes darkened slightly–not defensive, not apologetic, but certain.Â
“Yes.”Â
I let out a short breath.Â
“He’s not one of your seasoned trainees,” I snapped. “He doesn’t even understand what being a wolf feelsÂ
like yet. He doesn’t know his body, he doesn’t know his place, and you thought letting him get jumped inÂ
the courtyard was appropriate training?”Â
“He needed to face it,” Alexander replied calmly. “Not in drills. Not in controlled exercises… in reality.”Â
“In humiliation, you mean?” I shot back.Â
My hands curled at my sides.Â
ALEXANDERÂ
I could see the frustration in the way her jaw tightened, in the way her arms crossed.Â
“You sent him out there,” she said suddenly.Â
I blinked once. “Yes. On an errand.”Â
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “An errand.”Â
“Yes,” I said. “Is there a problem?”Â
“You knew they would be there,” she continued, her tone steady but edged with accusation. “You knewÂ
Mason and the others were already restless. You knew they were watching him. So you sent him out there.Â
”Â
For a moment, I simply stared at her.Â
Then something unexpected happened.Â
I laughed.Â
Not loudly. Not mockingly.Â
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But I was genuinely amused.Â
“You think I orchestrated it?” I asked, arching a brow.Â
Her silence answered me.Â
“You think I sent men to beat him,” I continued slowly, studying her face, “just to teach him a lesson?”Â
Her lips parted, then pressed together.Â
For the first time since this conversation began, I saw uncertainty flicker in her eyes.Â
“I-” she started, then stopped.Â
“You truly believe I would stage an assault on Roman?” I asked, not angry–just surprised.Â
That part caught me off guard.Â
Not because she questioned my methods.Â
But because she questioned my integrity.Â
Faye exhaled slowly.Â
“When you put it like that,” she muttered, “it sounds ridiculous.”Â
“It is ridiculous,” I said calmly.Â
She looked away for a moment, clearly realizing the leap she had made.Â
I sighed, crossing my arms loosely.Â
“I did not send Mason,” I said evenly. “I did not instruct anyone to lay a hand on Roman. The pack,tests weakness on its own. I simply chose not to intervene.”Â
That was the truth.Â
And there is a difference.Â
Faye sighed and rubbed her temple.Â
“I know you wouldn’t actually order something like that,” she admitted quietly. “I just… I hate that you let it happen.”Â
I studied her for a moment longer, then walked toward the chair opposite her and sat downÂ
My tone shifted–not softer, but steadier.Â
“If you want them punished,” I said plainly, “say the word.”Â
She looked up.Â
“I’ll have Mason and whoever was involved brought before me,” I continued. “They’ll be disciplined publicly. I’ll make them apologize to Roman. The message will be clear.”Â
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Her eyes searched mine.Â
“I can do that,” I added. “Immediately.”Â
Silence filled the room.Â
Then I asked the question that mattered.Â
“But is that what you really want?”Â
She frowned slightly.Â
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“You want the Alpha to punish anyone who gets into a fight with Roman?” I asked. “You want the pack toÂ
see him as someone who cannot defend himself?”Â
“That’s not what I-”Â
“Isn’t it?” I pressed, not harshly–just honestly.Â
“If I step in every time someone challenges him,” I continued, “what does that teach him? What does thatÂ
teach the pack?”Â
She didn’t answer.Â
So I did.Â
“It teaches them he survives by proximity to power,” I said. “Not by strength.”Â
Her expression faltered slightly.Â
“And what happens,” I went on, “when he leaves here?”Â
That caught her attention.Â
“This is not his permanent refuge,” I said quietly. “It cannot be.”Â
Her eyes softened, but she didn’t interrupt.Â
“He will go somewhere one day” I continued. “Maybe somewhere no one knows him. Somewhere your name doesn’t shield him. Somewhere mine doesn’t matter.”Â
I leaned forward slightly.Â
“What happens then?”Â
Silence.Â
“If he cannot defend himself without someone stepping in,” I said, “he will fall.”Â
Her shoulders lowered just slightly.Â
“And if we punish every wolf who challenges him,” I continued, “we don’t strengthen him. We isolate him.”Â
The truth of that sat heavy in the air.Â
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“He’ll be seen as protected,” I said. “Not respected.”Â
Faye swallowed.Â
“I don’t want him isolated,” she murmured.Â
“Then don’t isolate him,” I replied.Â
I watched her carefully now.Â
“This wasn’t about cruelty,” I said. “It wasn’t about humiliation. It was about exposure.”Â
She didn’t argue.Â
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“He needed to feel what hesitation costs,” I said. “He needed to see how the pack views uncertainty. That knowledge will sharpen him more than any drill I design.”Â
Her gaze shifted downward.Â
“If he grows from it,” I continued, “the pack will see resilience. If we intervene and punish on his behalf, they’ll see weakness reinforced.”Â
She sat very still.Â
“I know you care about him,” I said.Â
I let that settle between us.Â
“But caring for him does not mean cushioning every fall,” I continued. “It means preparing him for impact.”Â
She inhaled slowly, processing.Â
“If you want me to punish them,” I repeated calmly, “I will. There will be consequences. I’ll even haveÂ
Roman decide their punishment if it makes you happy.”Â
Her jaw tightened slightly at that thought.Â
She didn’t answer.Â
“He’s already struggling with identity,” I said. “Already uncertain about where he stands. Do you think being rescued by authority helps that?”Â
She closed her eyes briefly.Â
No.Â
It wouldn’t.Â
I softened my tone slightly.Â
“He is not a child,” I said. “He is a grown man.”Â
Her lips parted slightly.Â
“And if you continue to baby him out of pity,” I continued gently, “you will not be helping him.”Â
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She flinched slightly.Â
“You don’t pity him?” she asked quietly.Â
“No, I don’t,” I said immediately.Â
I meant it.Â
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“I see potential,” I said. “I see strength buried under confusion. I see a wolf who hasn’t fully awakened yet.”Â
I leaned back slightly.Â
“But if we treat him like something fragile,” I continued, “he will become fragile.”Â
Faye’s anger had cooled now–not because she agreed entirely, but because she was thinking.Â
Actually thinking.Â
“I just…” she started, then stopped.Â
“You’re afraid he’ll break,” I finished for her.Â
She nodded faintly.Â
“He won’t,” I said with certainty.Â
Faye stared at the floor for several seconds.Â
I didn’t rush her.Â
She needed to reach this conclusion on her own.Â
The room fell quiet again.Â
I stepped back toward the door.Â
“I will give you space,” I said calmly. “Decide what you want done.”Â
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