Kieran
The estate was restless.
It had been building since the moment I brought Cassidy here—since the moment I had sat her at my side and offered no explanation.
They had accepted it for one night.
They wouldn't accept it for much longer.
Because the pack was not ruled by silence.
It was ruled by proof.
And right now, Cassidy was an uncertainty.
Not because she was human.
Not because she didn't belong here.
But because I hadn't given them a reason to accept it.
I exhaled sharply, standing from my desk and pacing to the window.
The courtyard below was alive with movement—warriors training, patrols shifting, the morning frost lingering on the stone.
But their focus wasn't on their duties.
Not entirely.
I could feel their eyes. Their attention.
Because they were watching me.
And that meant they were waiting for her, too.
Waiting to see what I would do with the human in my home.
Waiting to see if she was more than just a passing indulgence.
I clenched my jaw.
The council would come soon.
Elara had made it clear that my claim wouldn't be accepted without proof.
Celeste had mocked the very idea of it.
And Cassidy—
I exhaled sharply.
Cassidy was still in her room.
I had left her alone the night before, knowing she needed time, knowing I needed time.
But I couldn't afford to give her much more.
She had survived yesterday's meeting, but survival wouldn't be enough forever.
I turned, pushing open the door to my office and stepping into the dimly lit hallway.
I needed to see her.
Not to force her.
Not to convince her.
Just to remind myself why I had done this in the first place.
Why I had chosen her.
And why I wasn't willing to let her go.
I reached her door, finding the guards still stationed outside.
They straightened as I approached, but I ignored them, pushing the door open without knocking.
Cassidy flinched.
She had been sitting by the fireplace again, curled in the chair, the firelight casting a soft glow across her face.
But this time, she looked different.
Sleep still clung to her, making her softer, more vulnerable than she would ever allow herself to appear when fully awake.
Her golden hair was slightly mussed, a few loose strands falling against her cheek.
And her lips—
She was biting her bottom lip, her teeth sinking into the soft flesh, a nervous habit she probably wasn't even aware of.
Something inside me stirred.
I clenched my jaw, forcing my attention back to her eyes.
She was watching me carefully, warily, her hands gripping the fabric of her night dress.
Even after a night of sleep, her first instinct was still to be on guard.
I hated that.
Hated that she had spent so much of her life in a world that had made her afraid.
"Do you ever knock?" She asks glaring at me.
"You slept."
It wasn't a question.
Her body was still warm from rest, her pulse steady.
But she didn't confirm it.
She just swallowed, her fingers tightening around the fabric at her lap. "What do you want?"
Her voice was quiet.
Not sharp.
Not openly defiant.
Because she knew.
She had lived as a slave. She had seen what supernaturals could do.
And she wasn't stupid.
She knew that pushing too hard could cost her.
But she was also learning me.
Learning that I wasn't the kind of man who needed to break her to control her.
I leaned against the doorframe. "You need to be prepared."
She frowned slightly, her lips parting just enough to draw my attention back to them. "Prepared for what?"
"The pack."
She stiffened.
I could see it—the way her fingers twitched slightly, the way her pulse quickened just enough for me to hear it.
She was afraid.
"They're watching," I said. "Waiting. They will expect you to prove your place."
Her throat bobbed. "I don't have a place."
"You do," I said simply. "You just haven't realized it yet."
Her hands tightened into fists. "And what if I don't want one?"
I exhaled slowly. "Then you will make things very difficult for yourself."
Cassidy's jaw clenched.
Because she understood.
I wasn't giving her a choice.
Not really.
But I was giving her a warning.
That was more than most humans ever received.
She licked her lips, her gaze dropping for a fraction of a second before she steeled herself. "So what, exactly, am I supposed to do?"
That was the right question.
I pushed off the doorframe, stepping closer. "You'll walk through the estate today."
She tensed. "What?"
"The pack needs to see you. They need to know you're not just a shadow hidden away in this room."
Her breath quickened slightly. "And if I refuse?"
I tilted my head. "Do you want to find out?"
Silence.
The fire crackled, casting flickering shadows against the walls.
Cassidy inhaled sharply, her fingers twitching against her lap.
"What do they think I am?" she asked finally, her voice softer now.
I hesitated.
Because I knew what they thought.
A human in an Alpha's house?
There were only so many things she could be.
"They don't know yet," I admitted. "That's the problem."
Her throat bobbed. "And what do you want them to think?"
I studied her carefully.
Then, low and steady—"That you belong here."
Cassidy inhaled sharply.
Because she hadn't expected me to say that.
She had expected ownership.
She had expected possession.
But belonging?
That was something else entirely.
And she didn't know what to do with it.
She swallowed, her gaze flickering toward the window.
Her voice was quiet when she finally spoke. "And if they don't accept that?"
I exhaled slowly. "Then we make them."
She flinched.
Because she knew.
She knew what that meant.
What I was willing to do.
What I would do if it came to that.
But she also knew—
I was keeping her alive.
I reached for the door handle, pausing only once. "You'll walk with me after breakfast."
She said nothing.
But I saw the way her fingers curled slightly into the folds of her dress.
A nervous habit.
One I would bet she wasn't even aware of.
I stepped outside, closing the door behind me.
Because this was just the beginning.
The pack was waiting.
The council was watching.