What Can You Prove?

"Can Tyler force me to live with him?"

The clerk at Crown Bond Administration looked from me to the mate-status notice on my phone. She did not laugh, look shocked, or tell me I was asking the wrong question. That already made her one of my favorite Crown employees. "No," she said.

My hand loosened around the edge of the counter. "Can he force sex because the bond isn't fully severed?"

"No. An incomplete severance does not create that right."

That answer helped more than I wanted it to. I had spent the walk from St. Mercy imagining every possible meaning of temporary mate-status hold, and my brain had apparently chosen the worst ones as a hobby.

I unlocked my phone again. "Then what exactly is being held?"

The clerk turned her screen slightly so I could see the same status I had received outside the hospital. Verbal rejection recorded. Acceptance not recorded. Fractured bond pending completion. Crown-heir review active.

"Formal severance," she said. "Because Prince Tyler is the direct Crown heir, the old review clause applies before the bond can be fully severed."

"So sever it after the review."

"That is what the review process is for."

"Today."

"Not today. I'll schedule the review for a later hearing."

Of course not. A ballroom full of people had managed to witness my humiliation in one evening, but ending the legal part required patience. I kept my voice level. Getting angry at the clerk would not make Tyler less royal. "What can the hold stop before then?"

"It can delay the formal severance. It can also complicate cross-pack recognition while the mate record is still pending."

"Complicate is one of those words people use when they want the problem to sound polite."

The clerk did not argue. "It does not give Prince Tyler the right to imprison you, make you live with him, or claim sexual access to you."

I typed that into my notes exactly as she said it. No forced residence. No sexual claim. No severance today. Bad law, but not ownership. That difference mattered.

I left the office without the severance I wanted, but I also left knowing Tyler could not legally order me into his home or his bed because fate had matched us badly. The Crown could slow me down. It could not turn delay into consent.

By late afternoon, I was back at my desk in Crown incident logistics with Malik's account notice still in my bag and the bond still sore under my ribs. My job was simple on paper: match incident reports against transport schedules and maintenance windows so the records agreed before they moved through the system.

Three new rogue incident reports were waiting when I returned. I opened the first, then the second, then the third. Different incidents. Different locations. I set the transport schedule beside them and pulled up the maintenance-window list.

The first incident overlapped a transport window and scheduled maintenance access. So did the second. I checked the third twice. Same kind of overlap.

I moved the three reports side by side and marked the dates, routes, and windows that matched. I could not prove one person had caused all three incidents. I could prove the timing was similar enough that filing them as unrelated without flagging it was stupid.

I carried the comparison to my supervisor. "These need a security flag before they close."

My supervisor looked at the pages for less time than I had spent finding a working pen that morning. "They are separate incidents. Process them separately."

"The locations are separate. The timing isn't."

"Janiah, your job is records. Security decides what counts as a pattern."

Apparently, my job involved finding information but becoming dangerous if I understood it. I put one finger on the first date. "I'm not saying I know who caused anything. I'm saying all three hit during the same kind of transport and maintenance overlap. If we ignore that, we might keep creating the same opening."

"Process the reports."

A man's voice came from the audit files at the end of the worktable. "Show me."

My supervisor straightened. "Alpha Anderson, it's an administrative comparison."

So that was Eric Anderson, Black Ridge's Alpha. He held out his hand for the pages. "Show me the comparison."

I gave them to him. He did not look at my supervisor first. He looked at the marks I had made.

"What repeats?" he asked.

"The incidents are different, but each one overlaps a transport window and scheduled maintenance access."

"What can you prove?"

"Only the overlap. I can't prove the same person caused all three."

His eyes stayed on the records. "What does the overlap tell you?"

"That we should stop treating the timing as random until somebody checks it. Either someone is using the schedules, or our schedules keep creating the same weak point. I don't know which."

That finally made him look at me. "Who built this comparison?"

"I did."

"Name."

"Janiah Cross."

"Position?"

"Incident logistics. Mostly records. Apparently with a strict no-thinking clause."

My supervisor made a sound beside me. Eric's expression barely changed. "Your comparison separates evidence from assumption," Eric said.

"I try not to accuse imaginary people. It creates paperwork."

"Good rule." He placed the reports back on the table. "Flag the overlap for the audit."

My supervisor started, "Alpha Anderson, our process doesn't usually allow-"

"It does now."

That was it. No speech about believing in me. No kind smile because the poor fat records girl had managed to count to three. He had looked at the work, asked what I could prove, and changed what happened to the warning. I hated how much that landed.

Without warning, Eric Anderson said, "Come work for Black Ridge."

My hand stopped halfway to the reports. "Excuse me?"

"Paid operations position. In Black Ridge. You would be doing work like this for people who expect you to analyze what you see."

The word paid hit differently with Malik's account notice sitting in my bag. I looked at Eric again. Powerful Alpha. Foreign pack. A real job. Another man with enough authority to change a room by speaking once. Exactly the kind of offer I should not answer while surprised.

"You offer jobs to strangers because they make one comparison?"

"No. I offer work when the evidence shows me someone can do it."

That was annoyingly reasonable. I glanced at the three reports, then at my bag under the desk. Malik needed his account problem fixed. I needed a way out of a Crown system that could delay my severance because the man who rejected me had the right father.

A paid job in Black Ridge was an option. Options were dangerous when they came from powerful men, but they were still options.

"How long do I have to decide?"

Eric answered without hesitation. "Tomorrow morning. Yes or no."