Ethan
Father summons us by mindlink instead of the old bell, probably because he wants this off the record of any kind. It seems most likely.
’Office. Now.’ He links, with an urgency I haven’t heard since the night we found out Allison was our mate.
’On my way,’ I answer, almost rolling my eyes, almost.
’With you,’ Elijah links privately, so I know he is just behind .
’Two minutes, closing Ops,’ Ezra replies, making us hurry without the run in our shoes, so we arrive together rather than as three separate problems.
We step into his office and the blinds are open to the courtyard, the desk is lined with neat stacks that never move, because we still give him work to make him feel useful, but nothing so important it’ll actually an sothing in the end. Mother is there on the side, with a cooling cup of tea in her hand, her face calm and her body relaxed. She has seen storms like this before, and this is nothing new to her. She knows what is to co, and so do we.
Father glares as if we personally insulted him, and I know for a fact that is probably how he feels. He doesn’t beat around the bush. He goes right to the punchline;
"You sideline the fox girl now, and we fast-track the Lizzy match," he says. "We set a date, we hold the square, and we end this noise before it settles."
"No," I say, and I keep my hands on the chair back so I don’t turn the room into a stage.
"Excuse ?" He blinks like the word slips past him.
"No," I repeat, because plain language saves ti, and this nonsense stops now. "Allison stays on Ops as Visitor/Ops, there’s no fast-track with Lizzy, there’s no square and no announcent."
Father spreads his palms on the desk, and his voice drops into the cadence he uses to make a point sound like law.
"You think the Crown runs your PR when this lands on my house? You put her in our corridors, you hand caras a toy, and you expect applause."
"We’re not putting caras anywhere," I say, letting the words run clean instead of sharp. "We’re done letting a lens pretend to be policy, and §14.2 still stands; skill, conduct, contribution. She delivered on all three yesterday, and she’ll do it again tomorrow."
"We run a wolf pack," he says, like the noun should erase the facts. I bite back my sharp reply, bite back the irritated sigh. It won’t help with him, he will just eat it up and use it against .
"We run a pack," I answer, and I don’t raise my voice. "We’re also under the Crown’s recognition, and you stood on the lawn when Queen Kiara nad it. You can hate the timing, but you don’t get to rewrite the log."
He changes lanes without signaling. The way he used to get his way when we showed to be more trouble than he bargained for.
"Blue Ridge needs alliances, and Alpha Jas will take it personally if you pull back from his daughter. We can’t insult a neighbor while demons test fences."
"We treat Lizzy with respect," I say, and I let the sentence breathe instead of break. "We don’t dangle her to make you more comfortable, and there’s no match to fast-track. If we’re talking about alliances, we use real terms; patrol cooperation, clinic cross-training, co-funded wards, shared lanes, not my relationship status."
His eyes flick to mother for rescue and find none.
"Tea is at 3pm," she says, gentle and firm. "You’re welco to sit if you can do it without a speech." He ignores the bridge and reaches for the word he knows he shouldn’t use.
"So you throw away a clean path for this.." he stops, smooths the edge, and tries again. ".. for this experint."
"Don’t call my mate an experint," Elijah says, even and low, and he doesn’t move an inch.
"Lower your tone," Father says, without turning.
’You good?’ Elijah mindlinks , and I appreciate the check in.
’I’m good,’ I send back. ’I’ve got it.’
I step forward a pace and hook a hand over the chair back, because sothing solid under my palm keeps the rest of where it belongs.
"You handed over the Alpha position," I say, steady and continuous. "I won’t run your stagecraft, I’ll run operations and the law you taught . Allison remains Visitor/Ops, Rei’s guard integrates on our ground, Lizzy is not paraded, and I’ve written it, so I’ll enforce it." I slide the tablet across; the Wardroom summary sits on top with chain-of-custody signatures beneath and the risk log clipped at the end. He doesn’t look down.
"And you think policy saves you when people whisper ’wolves like us’ in the dining room?" he asks, trying to make the whisper louder than the rule.
"If anyone runs that line to harm her," I say, "they et policy and , and I correct in the mont, on record, without theater."
He leans back, asuring the way he used to asure fence posts, cutting to length with his eyes.
"You’ll cost us respect."
"You’re confusing fear with respect," I answer, letting the truth carry the weight. "We build respect with steady days and real work, and yesterday was one, so we make more." The office goes quiet after that. Mother sets her cup down with a soft click and folds her hands, and Elijah watches father’s shoulders rather than his face, and Ezra stops blinking, which is how he looks when he’s done letting a mont slide by.
Father tries the last door he always tries.
"If you refuse a public match plan, then at least keep the fox girl off corridors where my captains need to move, side halls, service stairs, no reason to stir up..."
Reviews
All reviews (0)