THE RECKONING

Jaxon’s POV

The study felt cramped with all of us packed inside. Alina stood in the middle, looking like she was about to face a huge challenge, her chin raised defiantly in a way that made me want to both kiss her and hug her. 

“What on earth were you thinking?” I asked, keeping my voice steady but intense. “Going into a warehouse alone with a guy who tried to kidnap you?”

“I thought I could handle it,” she replied, her grey eyes flashing with anger. “And I did.”

“You were lucky,” Maddox chimed in from the corner, his usual charm completely gone. “Do you want to know how many ways that could have ended badly? I can give you a list, ranked by how likely they were.”

“Please don’t,” Ronan said coolly, still focusing on his nails, as if we were just chatting about the weather and not Alina’s serious predicament. “Making her listen to a long lecture won’t help.”

I wanted to hit something. The fear was still eating at me—the moment I arrived at the warehouse and saw her covered in dust and blood. The thought that I might have been too late terrified me.

“You didn’t tell us where you were going,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. Getting angry wouldn’t help; it would just make her more stubborn. “You went off the grid for two hours without a word.”

“I have the right to make my own choices about safety,” she replied.

“Not if those choices put everyone else at risk,” Ronan said, finally looking up. His green eyes were sharp and serious. “Your reckless decisions don’t just put you in danger. They put us all in danger. They mess up our ability to protect each other and respond to threats.”

“I’m not just yours to protect,” Alina shot back, but her voice had softened a bit. “I’m part of this. That means I deserve a say.”

“You do get a say,” I said. “Right now. We’re negotiating what that looks like.”

Maddox pushed off the wall and moved closer to her. “You showed us today that you can take care of yourself. You’re tough. But even tough people need some rules.”

“Rules that you create?” she challenged.

“Rules that we all agree on,” Ronan corrected. His tone was almost respectful. “You’re not a prisoner, Alina. But you can’t act alone either. This is a teamwork situation, and that means we need some ground rules.”

I could see her thinking it over, the fight in her starting to fade. “What kind of rules?”

“First,” Ronan said, his voice turning serious, “you need to tell us where you’re going and whom you’re with. It’s not about controlling you—it’s about being informed. If things go wrong, we need to know where to find you.”

“Second,” Maddox added, “if you ever feel you’re in danger, you need to signal us. We’ll set up a simple system—like a code word or a specific text. If you get into trouble, let us know immediately.”

“Third,” I said, “you need to be part of the planning before you go anywhere. Not just afterward or on your own. You bring your ideas, and we’ll work together on the strategy. You’re not just a figurehead—you’re a vital part of our team.”

Alina was quiet for a moment, absorbing what I said. “And what do I get in return?”

“In return,” Ronan chimed in, “you’ll have some freedom within certain limits. You won’t have to ask permission for every little thing. You’re not stuck here. We trust you to act like someone who understands the importance of this situation.”

I noticed something change in her expression—a kind of warmth, as if she realized this wasn’t about controlling her like her father did. This was different. It was about safety and working together.

“I can accept that,” she said softly.

“Good,” I replied, and suddenly I felt the urge to be closer to her. I stepped forward and wrapped her in my arms, my hand finding its way into her hair. She held me tightly, and I felt the tension of my anger ease into something deeper—relief, fear, desire.

“You frightened me,” I confessed, my voice rough against her ear. “When I saw you in that warehouse, I thought I’d lost you—”

“You didn't, I’m right here.” she whispered.

I held her tighter, not caring that the others were watching. My protective instincts were growing stronger. This woman was important to me—important to all of us. The thought of her facing danger without us knowing felt like a betrayal.

“Come on,” I said, stepping back slightly to see her face. “Let’s get you cleaned up. You’ve got some cuts.”

She took my hand as I led her out of the room. In the bathroom, I gently washed the dried blood from her hands and face. The cuts were minor—Viktor had clearly been more rough than serious. But the thought of him hurting her, fighting her, made my jaw tighten.

“He told me the next time I disobeyed you, there wouldn’t be anyone to save me,” she said quietly as I wrapped bandages around her knuckles.

“He’s wrong.” I met her eyes. “We will always come to your rescue. Even if you disobey. Even if you disappear. Even if you actively try to push us away. That’s what it means to be ours, Alina. It means we don’t let go. Ever.”

She looked at me closely for a moment. “That’s pretty intense.”

“Yeah, it is,” I acknowledged. “Are you okay with that?”

Instead of answering, she leaned in and kissed me—softly and with intention, like a choice rather than a reaction. When she pulled back, a small smile appeared on her face. 

“I’m getting there.”

Later, after she had fallen asleep in my bed, I found Maddox and Ronan in the kitchen. Ronan was sipping whiskey while Maddox typed away on his laptop, fingers moving quickly over the keys.

“She’s testing our boundaries,” Ronan said without looking up from his drink.

“Or maybe she needed to know we could handle her when she’s at her worst,” Maddox replied, still focused on the screen.

“Either way, we need to be clear about what happens next. She’s not going to just sit quietly, and if we let her go too far, she might get hurt or become a problem for us.”

I poured myself a drink. “She’s not one to be quiet. And we don’t want her to be.”

“Exactly,” Ronan agreed, a small smile on his face. “But we need to channel that energy into something constructive.”

Maddox looked up, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I’ve got an idea.”