Chapter 5: Grant's Terms

"Absolutely not."

My Alpha's voice carries through the council room door before I even step inside, sharp enough that I hesitate on the threshold. I wasn't summoned here to be part of this conversation. I was summoned to bring water and leave, the way I've done for every treaty meeting since I turned eighteen.

"Hear me out before you refuse," Jaxton says, calm as ever, like Alpha Reeves hasn't just shut him down flat.

I set the pitcher down on the side table as quietly as I can and try to make myself small in the corner. Nobody's noticed me yet.

"You want my clinic's lead healer working liaison between our packs," Alpha Reeves says. "That's not a small request. That's asking me to hand over one of my most valuable people to another territory."

"I'm not asking for her permanently. I'm asking for regular exchange visits, treaty terms, medical knowledge shared between packs the way it should have been years ago." Jaxton's voice doesn't waver. "Half the reason our border skirmishes turn deadly is because neither side trusts the other's healers enough to call for help when it matters."

"That's a reasonable argument for a system. It doesn't explain why you need Delaney Reeves specifically."

There's a pause. Just long enough that I feel my pulse pick up in the quiet.

"Because she saved a Graystone fighter's life during the border incident three days ago with methods I've never seen before," Jaxton says. "Because whatever she's capable of matters for both our packs going forward, and I'd rather understand it through partnership than have it become something we're fighting over later."

It's a good answer. Clean, practical, nothing in it that points to what actually happened between us on that porch, or in the clearing this morning, or in the two sleepless nights since. I almost believe it myself, and I know the truth.

Alpha Reeves is quiet for a long moment, studying Jaxton like he's trying to read something underneath the words. Whatever he sees, or doesn't see, seems to settle something in him.

"Delaney." He turns, finally spotting me by the side table. "Come here."

I step forward, feeling Jaxton's eyes land on me the second I move, careful and unreadable in front of my own Alpha.

"You heard the proposal," Alpha Reeves says.

"Some of it."

"Alpha Cole wants you working medical liaison between our packs. Regular visits, shared knowledge, coordination during incidents like the one at the border." He watches my face closely. "This is your call as much as mine. I won't force you into another pack's territory if you're not willing."

I think about the bond sitting quiet and stubborn in my chest, the one that hasn't faded no matter how hard I've tried to ignore it these past two days. I think about how much easier it would be to say no, to keep my distance, to let this whole complicated mess resolve itself without me walking closer to the fire.

Then I think about the fighter I healed at the border, the way something in me came alive doing it despite the cost, and how much good real medical cooperation could do for people who deserve better than dying over territory lines.

"I'll do it," I say. "For the pack. Not for anything else."

Something flickers across Jaxton's face, brief and controlled, but I catch it anyway.

"Good." Alpha Reeves nods, already turning back to the treaty papers spread across the table. "We'll draft the terms this week. Delaney, you're dismissed. Alpha Cole, we still have border allocations to discuss."

I take that as my cue to leave, grateful for the excuse to get out of a room that suddenly feels too small for how many things are happening underneath the surface of it. I make it halfway down the hall before I hear footsteps behind me, too fast to be casual.

I turn, expecting Jaxton.

It's Dean.

"Liaison work," he says, voice tight and low. "That's what he's calling it."

"Dean, I don't have time for this."

"You'll make time." He steps closer, and there's something different in his face now than there was in the clearing this morning, less panic, more calculation. "You think I don't know what that request actually is? He's not asking for a healer. He's asking for an excuse to keep you close."

"That's not your business anymore."

"Everything about you is my business." His jaw tightens. "You're still pack. You're still under obligation here whether you like the sound of that or not."

I don't answer. I don't owe him an answer, not after what he said to me two nights ago, not after watching him grab my arm hard enough to bruise and growl about ownership like I was property instead of a person.

He doesn't wait for Jaxton to reach us on his way out of the council room. The second Jaxton steps into the hallway, still finishing some last exchange with Alpha Reeves over his shoulder, Dean is already moving toward him, shoulders squared, wolf riding just under the surface of his eyes.

"We need to talk," Dean says.

"Do we." Jaxton's voice stays level, but I see the shift in his stance, weight settling low and ready.

"You think I don't see what you're doing." Dean's voice climbs, careless of who might hear him in the corridor. "Liaison work. Regular visits. You're not fooling anyone. You're using pack business to get your hands on something that isn't yours."

"She was never yours to begin with," Jaxton says. "You made that clear yourself, in front of two hundred witnesses, three days ago."

"That doesn't give you the right to swoop in and claim what's left."

"I'm not claiming anything. I'm asking her pack for cooperation that benefits both our territories." Jaxton's tone stays maddeningly calm, and I can see it cost him nothing to say it, which somehow makes Dean angrier than if he'd shouted back. "If that bothers you, maybe examine why it bothers you so much, given you're the one who threw her away."

Dean's hands curl into fists at his sides, and for a second I think he's actually going to swing, right here in the middle of the council hallway, in front of witnesses who'd remember every second of it.

"You don't understand what's happening to me," Dean says, voice dropping low, almost desperate. "You don't understand what's at stake. If you take her from here, if you pull her into your territory, you have no idea what you're setting into motion."

Jaxton goes still, something sharpening behind his eyes at the shift in Dean's tone.

"Then explain it," he says quietly. "Right now. Just the two of us."

Dean's jaw works, some internal battle playing out behind his eyes, torn between the truth and whatever fear keeps sealing it inside him.

"I can't," he finally says, voice cracking. "Not yet. Not until I know if there's still time to fix it myself."