A Deal with the Alpha
As Lena looked into Damian's golden eyes, her breath came in short, sharp bursts. What he said hit her hard in the chest and made her question everything she thought she knew. Stay. Fight with me. It wasn’t a command. It wasn’t a demand. It was a deal.
She wasn’t sure what she had expected after agreeing to stay, but she should have known that trust wasn’t earned overnight. The warriors watched her like she was a caged animal, and the pack members whispered behind her back. She ignored them, focusing instead on the task at hand.
But was it one she could accept?
Damian wasted no time. That morning, he summoned her to the war room again. The air was thick with tension as she stepped inside, meeting his golden gaze.
“You wanted a say,” he said. “Here’s your chance.”
She crossed her arms, eyeing the map spread across the table. Rogue activity had increased. The northern borders were under constant attack, and even Damian’s warriors were struggling to hold the line.
Lena laughed. “You make it sound so simple.” She tapped a point on the map. “This is where they’ll strike next.”
Damian studied her, his expression unreadable. “Because you don’t have to run anymore.”
Elliot, standing beside Damian, frowned. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because I know how they think,” Lena replied. “They don’t attack strongholds head-on. They find weaknesses. They take out supply lines. This village here—” she pointed again “—is where they’ll move next.”
Damian’s jaw tightened. “Then we’ll be ready.”
There it was. The unspoken truth. If she left, she’d be hunted. If not by his pack, then by the rogue factions that saw her as a traitor. There was no easy way out of this.
Lena exhaled, rubbing a hand over her face. “I need time.”
“You have until dawn,” Damian said, his voice softer than before. Then, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing in the dark hallway with her racing thoughts.
The night was long, and Lena found no rest. She paced her small room, going over every possible outcome. She could run, but where? She had no allies, no resources. The rogues would tear her apart. And if she stayed…
Preparations began immediately. Warriors trained harder, patrols were doubled, and Lena was assigned a small scouting team. Some resented taking orders from a former rogue, but Damian made it clear that her word was to be followed.
That didn’t mean they liked it.
During training, one of the warriors, a tall, broad-shouldered man named Jace, challenged her authority outright. “Why should we listen to you?” he demanded. “You were one of them.”
Lena did not move when he stared at her. “And that’s exactly why you should listen. I know what’s coming.”
Jace scoffed. “Or maybe you’re leading us into a trap.”
It was not her time to do this. She quickly grabbed a practice blade from the rack of weapons and threw it to him. "Fight me."
The gathered warriors murmured in surprise. Jace hesitated before catching the blade. “What?”
“You think I don’t belong here?” Lena asked, rolling her shoulders. “Prove it.”
Jace grinned. “You’ll regret this.”
They circled each other. Jace lunged first, fast but predictable. Lena ducked and used his speed against him to twist and knock the blade out of his hand. She laid him down gently and secured his chest with her knee to ensure he stayed calm and couldn't move.
Everywhere was Silent.
Jace stared up at her, stunned, before letting out a breathless chuckle. “Alright. Point taken.”
She stepped back, offering her hand. He took it.
From the sidelines, Damian watched closely.
That night, Lena found herself standing on the northern watchtower, staring out at the darkened forest. The wind was cold, but she barely felt it. Too much was at stake. If she was right about the rogues’ next move, they had little time left.
A familiar presence approached. “You handled Jace well,” Damian said.
She smiled. “Didn’t give me much of a choice.”
He stood beside her, gazing out at the treeline. “You’re proving yourself.”
Lena’s heart thumped at the unexpected words. She turned to him. “Does that mean you trust me?”
Damian was silent for a long time before responding. “It means I’m starting to.”
For some reason, that meant more than it should have.
She lifted her chin. “I’ll stay. But on my terms.”
Damian arched a brow. “Oh?”
“I want a say in how this war is fought. I’m not just your weapon,” she said firmly. “If I’m going to help you, I need to know I’m more than a tool to be used.”
He was silent for a moment before nodding. “Agreed.”
Lena wasn’t sure if she believed him. But for now, it was enough.
Over the next few days, Lena’s presence became more ingrained in the pack’s daily life. Some warriors remained skeptical, their glares like daggers in her back, but others started to see the value in what she offered.
She spent hours in the war room, poring over maps, analyzing patterns in rogue attacks. She and Elliot scouted the northern borders, observing the enemy’s movements firsthand. Each passing moment drew her deeper into the heart of a war she had once run from.
It was a strange feeling, fighting alongside those she once saw as enemies.
In the evening, Lena sat by the fire pit and sharpened her sword after another long day of training. Even though there was less stress in the camp, she still doubted that she had not been able to get rid of.
Jace approached, his usual scowl replaced by something more neutral. “Are you sure they will hit the village?”
Lena glanced up. “I don’t think. I know.”
Jace exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Then we should be ready.”
It was the closest thing to an olive branch she had received. She nodded. “We will be.”
Two nights later, the first sign of trouble arrived.
A scout burst into the war room, panting. “They’re moving,” he gasped. “Just like she said.”
Lena shot Damian a look. He gave a tight nod.
“Sound the alarms,” he ordered. “Get everyone in position.”
The camp sprang into motion.
Lena felt the familiar rush of energy through her veins as she put on her weapons. This was it. The moment that would decide whether she had a place here.
As she and Damian led the warriors toward the battlefield, his voice was low beside her. “Don’t die on me.”
She smirked, gripping the hilt of her dagger. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Then, the first howl rang through the trees, and the battle began.
