Chapter 3

Rion

I don’t move right away after Raven leaves the room.

No one speaks at first. Avery keeps his attention upstairs on the hallway, watching as Raven disappears before turning back, and Harold lets out a slow, deep breath that he’s likely been holding in since we arrived. 

Sylvia moves to sit beside him, her posture breaking slightly as she moves her hand to hold Harold’s. She quickly laces their fingers together, though she keeps one hand loosely curled in her lap.

“You handled that well,” Avery says.

“She didn’t need to feel more overwhelmed than she already does,” Sylvia replies. “We’re not putting that on her yet.”

Avery nods, then looks to me. “You weren’t very open about what her training would look like. She needs to be prepared. She will be disappointed that she won’t be training with others for a while.”

“I may not have been very open, but I didn’t see the need to outline everything right now,” I say.

“That’s not what we discussed.”

I wait a moment before answering. “I could feel her worry, and as Sylvia pointed out, she doesn’t need to feel more overwhelmed than she already does.”

Sylvia’s focus shifts directly to me. “You felt her worry?”

I nod, not going into more detail. Avery and I may have agreement about my role here, I may submit to his authority in the presence of others, but I don’t answer to him. I don’t owe any of these people an explanation for what I do. 

Avery studies me. “You’re certain?”

“Yes. It was starting to bleed through to her wolf. She needed to relax, before her wolf took over and put Raven’s mind to sleep. You felt her power. If you want to limit her use of that power before she understands how to use it, then I suggest you trust me.”

This is why I’ve never attempted to return, to rejoin a pack. Alphas in general are arrogant, but even more so when they feel their position is threatened. He knows that if I truly wanted to take it from him, I could. And it would take almost no effort, but I don’t want to. I have no desire to lead the hunters. 

Harold exhales through his nose. “She didn’t say anything.”

“She wouldn’t yet,” I say. “She doesn’t know what she’s feeling, only that something’s off.”

Sylvia’s fingers press into her palm before she relaxes them again. I can see a slight amount of color returning to her skin. “Then we keep it that way. She doesn’t need to carry that burden right now.”

“No,” Avery agrees. “She doesn’t.”

He looks between them briefly before returning to me. “You think this can be contained.”

It’s not a question, but I still answer as though he asked, “Yes, for now.”

Harold leans back, his shoulders still look like they’re holding the full weight of everything, his jaw shifting as he looks away for a second before refocusing. “Then what does that mean for her?”

“It means we stay ahead of it,” Avery says. “Controlled training, limited exposure, and no unnecessary attention.”

“That was already the plan,” Harold says.

“It’s no longer just a plan,” Avery replies. “It’s a requirement.”

Sylvia stands after a moment, brushing her hands lightly over her arms. “She’s ten,” she says. “Whatever this turns into, she’s still a child right now.”

She looks between us, her gaze fierce, unwavering. She may realize how she’s pushing against Avery’s authority, but she doesn’t understand the implications of pushing against me. I can see how someone would be drawn to her.

Avery does something I didn’t expect. He actually inclines his head to her, silently deferring to her judgement, for now. “And she’ll be allowed to stay one for as long as possible.”

Sylvia holds his gaze for a second before turning toward the stairs. “I’m going to check on her.”

Harold watches her go, then runs a hand through his hair before turning to me.

“Do you think he’ll contact Sylvia?” he asks.

“Yes.” It’s not what he wants to hear, but he needs to understand that he will. 

He doesn’t say anything right away, but his shoulders tense even more slightly. I can tell the thought of another man contacting his mate makes him uncomfortable. His need to protect her, more apparent now.

They have marked each other, love each other, but another man shares something with her that he never truly will. 

“Then we don’t wait,” he says.

“We won’t, Raven will be protected. You just need to make sure that Sylvia understands.”

Harold stands and turns without saying anything, heading towards the stairs to go comfort his mate. 

Avery looks at me. “Walk with me.”

I don’t say anything, but I follow him outside.

The air feels cooler than it should be, and the quiet out here feels different from inside the house. There’s no walls now, leaving endless space around us, but it doesn’t feel empty.

Avery stops a short distance from the porch steps, just far enough away that if anyone inside the house were trying to listen we won’t be overheard. He looks toward the tree line before turning back to me.

“If this is what we think it is, it shouldn’t have reached this far without being detected.”

“It don’t think it did,” I say. “It feels like it used a vessel, a way to extend itself without actually going anywhere.”

He exhales. “That’s not a distinction I like.”

“It’s one we need to acknowledge.”

A presence that travels can be tracked. One that extends itself through a vessel is anchored somewhere else.

“And you think she drew its attention.”

I nod, “I think it recognized the power but doesn’t know exactly who it came from.”

He considers that for a moment. Crossing his arms, as if finally beginning to accept my role here.

“Then we move forward,” he says. “We monitor, we train, and we find the source before it strengthens that connection.”

“That will take us beyond the packlands.”

“It will,” he agrees.

He glances back toward the house briefly before refocusing on me. “You were chosen for this for a reason.”

“I know.”

“She can’t know what she is,” he says. “Not yet.”

“I understand.”

The he asks the question that I can tell has been sitting just under the surface, “And if she starts to question things?”

I hold his gaze. Making sure that he understands that he does not have the authority or the power to make decisions about this.

“Then I will handle it.” 

He watches me for a moment, not liking my answer. He nods once, not in agreement, but realizing that he has no choice but to accept it. 

“Make sure you do.”

Neither of us says anything after that. There’s nothing left to be decided right now. Everything we do moving forward, will all depend on Raven. 

Behind us, I can hear the quiet inside. The stillness of the house where a family sleeps. And for now, that’s exactly how it needs to be.

Avery turns without saying anything. I may not like alphas, but I’ve grown to have respect for Avery as a man in the last ten years. He wants to protect what’s his, not that it’s a bad thing, but it’s that alpha arrogance that bleeds into how he tries to go about it. He heads back to the pack house, leaving me just outside the home where my ward sleeps. 

I walk over to the porch, up the few steps and sit down on the bench swing. I take in the small details that show the presence of a loving family over time. The remnants of colorful paint, the way the wood of the swing is more worn in certain spots.

I can see a large branch from the main tree in the yard where a rope once hung. The walking path to the porch where quick feet have run over the years. I don’t allow myself to focus on them too much. No need to remember a time where I almost had this. It’s been too many years count.

I close my eyes, turning my focus inward. I find the connection that I’ve never used. The one that was placed in me just over ten years ago. It was easier to access than I thought it would be. 

I open the connection for the first time and I feel him. There are so few he’s bound himself to like this, that he becomes aware instantly. I open my mind, letting the events of the night replay for him to see. I can feel his focus on her.

He’s never seen her, never allowed himself to. I meet with him every year and give him my report. He prefers it that way so he can make sure my fractures don’t reopen, even though they never have. But I knew that he would want to be informed immediately of everything that happened tonight. 

It’s nearly sunrise when I feel it. The strength and energy he sends me for keeping me awake all night and opening our connection. With my enhanced hearing, I can tell that someone inside is awake. 

I get up from the swing and go find a place where I can watch the house, still being able to hear what’s going on inside. But I make sure no one can see me. I’ve just settled in, to wait for my ward to get up and enjoy her birthday when I hear it. 

‘Thank you.’