Sentiment is Weakness: Zane’s Perspective

I drum my fingers against the polished surface of my desk, Sophia's request echoing in my mind. "Can you find out what happened to my parents?" Such a simple question, loaded with so much vulnerability. Even in asking for this favour, she'd maintained that stubborn pride, refusing to beg despite the tears gathering in her eyes.

Something about her quiet dignity in that moment had struck a chord I didn't realise I still possessed. Fifty years as Alpha has taught me that sentiment is weakness, yet here I am, contemplating using pack resources to ease one omega's mind.

Vance enters without knocking, the one privilege I allow him as my Beta. He moves with that predatory grace that's become second nature after decades at my side, settling into the chair across from me without waiting for permission.

"You look troubled," he observes, his grey eyes missing nothing.

I lean back, weighing how much to share. "The omega asked about her parents."

"Ah." Vance's expression shifts subtly. "The ones who helped her escape the Council."

"Sacrificed themselves, more likely." I rise, moving to the window that overlooks my territory. The morning sun casts long shadows across the valley below, my pack's lands stretching toward the horizon. Everything I've built, everything I've claimed and defended. "She wants to know what happened to them."

"And you're considering helping her." It's not a question.

I turn, fixing him with a hard stare. "She's valuable. Keeping her cooperative serves my interests."

Vance doesn't bother hiding his knowing smile. "Of course."

'She's more than valuable,' Conri growls in my mind. 'She's ours. And Nyx...'

'What about her wolf?' I ask silently.

'Different,' Conri replies. 'Strong. Not broken like other omegas. Don't want to break her.'

The admission surprises me. Conri typically demands complete submission, yet something about Sophia's wolf appeals to him beyond mere dominance.

"I can reach out to our people at Ground Zero," Vance offers, interrupting my internal dialogue. "The Council will have records of any punishment for interfering with the Omega Directive. If her parents were detained or..." He trails off, both of us knowing the likely outcome for those who defy the Council.

I nod once. "Do it. Quietly."

"You realise this could complicate things," Vance points out. "If they were executed, telling her might trigger an escape attempt."

"And if they're alive, she'll be more cooperative in exchange for information or potential contact." I return to my desk, decision made. "Either way, knowledge is leverage."

"And if it's simply to ease her mind?" Vance asks, his tone carefully neutral.

I bare my teeth in what might pass for a smile. "Then I've earned goodwill at minimal cost."

Vance studies me for a moment longer than necessary. "Her parents' willingness to sacrifice themselves explains her attitude. She comes from rebels, Zane. That spirit doesn't break easily."

"Who said anything about breaking her?" The words come out sharper than intended.

'Not breaking,' Conri agrees vehemently. 'Like her fire. Like Nyx's strength.'

This alignment between my wolf and my human thoughts is unusual. Typically, Conri's desires are more primitive, more focused on dominance and possession. This nuanced appreciation for Sophia's spirit is... unexpected.

"You've built your reputation on breaking those who defy you," Vance reminds me, one eyebrow raised.

Before I can respond, rapid footsteps approach my door, followed by an urgent knock that interrupts our conversation. Kier enters without waiting for permission, a breach of protocol that immediately signals trouble.

"Alpha," he says, slightly breathless despite his usually impressive stamina. "Council representatives at the northern border. Elder Stone herself, with six guards. They're demanding entry."

I feel my features harden into the mask my enemies have learned to fear. "They tracked her scent to our territory."

"Yes, Alpha." Kier shifts his weight, anxiety rolling off him in waves. "Our border patrol is holding them, but Elder Stone is... insistent."

"I imagine she is," I murmur, exchanging a glance with Vance. "Assemble four guards. We'll meet them at the border."

Kier nods sharply before disappearing to carry out my orders. Vance rises, stretching casually as if we're preparing for a pleasant stroll rather than a confrontation with the Council.

"This could get messy," he observes.

I smile, all teeth and threat. "Let it."

Ten minutes later, we're approaching the northern checkpoint, the guards falling into formation behind us as we near the border marker. Elder Stone stands rigidly on the other side of the invisible line that separates Midnight Eclipse territory from neutral ground, her burgundy suit immaculate despite the forest setting. Six enforcers flank her, their postures screaming military precision.

My border patrol wolves hold their positions with admirable discipline, though I catch the scent of their anxiety. Few wolves willingly stand between an Alpha and the Council, even when following orders.

"Alpha Thorne," Elder Stone greets me, her voice honey-sweet with an undertone of steel. "How kind of you to grace us with your presence."

"Elder," I respond coolly. "I understand you're attempting to trespass on my territory."

Her amber eyes narrow slightly. "Hardly trespassing when we come on official Council business. We're here to retrieve stolen property, a true omega registered under Council Directive 117."

"I have no knowledge of stolen property," I reply, keeping my expression neutral. "Everything on Midnight Eclipse land belongs to me."

"The omega, Sophia Blackwood," she says, dropping all pretence of pleasantries. "Her genetic compatibility score makes her Council property, scheduled for allocation at next month's ceremony. Our trackers followed her scent directly to your borders."

"Anyone who crosses into my territory becomes mine by right of claim," I state flatly. "Council laws have always recognised territorial sovereignty."

Elder Stone's face tightens with barely controlled rage. "This is different and you know it. That girl is a 98% match, the highest recorded in three decades. Her genetics are too valuable to waste on a single pack's bloodline."

"My bloodline," I correct her, stepping closer to the border, letting my height and strength register as the implied threat they are. "And I've claimed her."

"You have no right…"

"I have every right," I cut her off, my voice dropping to the dangerous register that makes lesser wolves tremble. "She entered my territory. She's mine."

"Her parents committed treason to help her escape," Elder Stone counters. "They're already facing execution for interfering with the Directive. Don't add your name to the list of enemies the Council will punish."

So. Sophia's parents are still alive, for now. I file away this information while maintaining my cold stare.

"Threats, Elder? How beneath your station."

She steps forward, close enough that only the invisible border line separates us. "This isn't a threat, Alpha Thorne. It's a promise. The Council will not let this go. That omega is too valuable."

"Then the Council should have guarded her more carefully," I reply smoothly. "What enters my territory is mine. What I claim stays claimed. Council tradition has recognised this for centuries."

"Not for true omegas," she hisses. "Not for…"

A sensation crashes through my mind, interrupting her words, not my own thoughts but Conri's sudden alertness, his consciousness surging against mine as a foreign presence touches our bond.

'Conri, help me, please!' Nyx's voice, frantic and terrified, reaches us through the pack link, a link she shouldn't have access to yet, not without a formal claiming. The fact that she's broken through speaks volumes about both her power and her desperation.

I turn to Vance, my decision instant and absolute. "Escort the Council representatives off our land. Post additional guards. No one enters without my explicit permission."

"Alpha…" Elder Stone begins, but I'm already turning away, my focus entirely on the distress call that's set Conri into a frenzy of protective rage.

"We're done here," I call over my shoulder, already moving toward the pack house with urgent strides. "Vance, make sure they leave. Now."

As I run toward whatever danger has Sophia calling for help, I'm struck by the realisation that my concern isn't just about protecting a valuable asset. It's about protecting her. The distinction should trouble me, but there's no time to examine it now.

All that matters is reaching her before whatever's happening gets worse.