The morning after our confrontation, I stood in the kitchen reconsidering everything.
I'd shown Nate too much. Given him ammunition to use against me, to convince Gabriel I was a threat rather than an asset to the pack.
"Coffee?" I offered when Nate entered, keeping my voice neutral.
He stopped in the doorway, suspicion radiating from every line of his body.
"What's your angle now?"
"No angle. Just coffee." I poured two cups, sliding one across the counter. "I thought about what you said. Maybe we should try to coexist peacefully. For Gabriel's sake."
"Right. For Gabriel." He took the coffee but didn't drink, watching me like I might poison him. "This is another performance, isn't it?"
"Everything's a performance to you," I said, sitting across from him. "Can't someone just offer coffee without ulterior motives?"
"Not you."
Here we go again…
The week that followed became an exercise in persistence. Every morning, I made coffee for both of us. Every afternoon, I asked his opinion on pack matters—genuinely listening to his responses.
When he mentioned missing Gabriel during evening patrols, I walked with him in companionable silence.
"Why are you doing this?" he demanded on day three, when I brought him lunch during his training session with the younger wolves.
"Because you're important to Gabriel, which makes you important to me," I said simply. "And because maybe you're right. Maybe I have been too guarded."
"This is just another mask," he shot back, though he took the sandwich. "Sweet Kat, trying to win over the bad mean Beta."
"Or maybe," I said, watching the young wolves spar, "I'm trying to show you that being multifaceted doesn't make someone fake. People can be both soft and strong, Nate."
He laughed bitterly. "Save the philosophy for someone who believes it."
On day five, I found him in Gabriel's office, surrounded by patrol schedules and territory maps.
"The eastern border," I said, studying the markings. "You're stretching the patrols too thin."
"And here comes the real Kat," he muttered. "Can't help yourself, can you?"
"I'm trying to help." I pointed to the map. "If you rotate the schedule here and here, you get better coverage without exhausting the guards."
"Why would you help me?"
"Because protecting the pack protects Gabriel. And despite what you think, I do care about him." I met his eyes directly. "The bond might have brought us together, but what I feel for him is real."
"Feelings based on lies aren't real," Nate countered, but he adjusted the patrol schedule as I'd suggested.
Day seven brought everything crashing down.
I was at the pack school, teaching the youngest pups their letters. Nate lounged against the wall, his constant shadow, when little Emma asked the question that lit the fuse.
"Miss Katherine, why doesn't Beta Nate like you?"
The room went silent. Eight pairs of innocent eyes stared at me, waiting.
"Beta Nate and I are still getting to know each other," I said carefully. "Sometimes adults need time to become friends."
"But he looks at you mean," Tommy added. "Like you did something bad."
"Maybe she did," Nate said from his corner, his voice carrying clearly. "Maybe Miss Katherine isn't as nice as she pretends to be."
The pups gasped and my hands clenched around the storybook.
"Nate," I warned quietly.
"What? They asked a question." He pushed off the wall, approaching slowly. "Shouldn't we teach pups about honesty, Katherine? About being genuine?"
"This isn't the place—"
"No? Where is the place? Because you seem to perform everywhere." His voice grew harder. "In the pack house, at meetings, even here with children. When do you stop pretending?"
"Stop it," I said, standing slowly. "Not in front of them."
"Why? Afraid they'll see through you too?" He was right in front of me now. "Afraid these innocent pups will realize their future Luna is—"
"ENOUGH!"
The word tore from my throat with such force that several pups whimpered. My entire body shook with barely contained fury.
"You want to attack me? Fine. But not here. Not in front of children who have nothing to do with your personal vendetta."
The pups huddled together, some beginning to cry. The sight of their fear shattered something in both of us and I’ve mentioned how Nate's face went pale.
"Guys, I'm sorry,” he said calmly, kneeling beside them. “Beta Nate was just... having a bad day. Sometimes adults argue, but it's not your fault."
"Miss Katherine isn't really mad, are you?" Emma asked tearfully.
I forced my body to relax, kneeling beside them.
"No, sweetheart. I'm not mad at you. Never at you." I gathered the crying children close. "Beta Nate and I just disagree sometimes, but we both love this pack and all of you very much."
"Even each other?" Tommy asked hopefully.
Nate and I looked at each other across the sea of small heads.
"We're working on it," Nate said quietly. "I'm sorry, Katherine. That was... I went too far."
The remaining hour passed in forced normalcy. We read stories, practiced letters, and pretended the ugly scene hadn't happened.
But the damage was done and the walk back to Gabriel's residence stretched in suffocating silence. The moment we crossed the threshold, Nate tried to speak.
"Katherine, about earlier—"
"Don't." My voice came out hollow.
"I need to apologize properly. Using the pups like that, making them scared… that was unconscionable."
"It was." I set down my bag with trembling hands. "Those children look up to us. They trust us to be safe, to be stable."
"I know. I let my suspicions override my judgment." He moved closer, genuine remorse in his voice. "Whatever I think about your motivations, the pups didn't deserve that."
"No, they didn't." The tears I'd been holding back suddenly overwhelmed me. "Do you know what it's like? Every day, every moment, being watched and judged and found wanting? Never being enough, never being right, always being suspected of something?"
"Katherine—"
"I tried!" The tears flowed freely now. "This whole week, I tried to show you I'm not some villain. That maybe I'm just a woman doing her best in an impossible situation. But nothing is ever enough for you!"
He reached out, perhaps to comfort, but I jerked away.
"I'm tired, Nate." The words came out broken. "I'm so tired of fighting you, of proving myself, of being torn between who I am and who everyone needs me to be."
"Let me—"
"No." I backed toward my room, tears still streaming. "I can't do this right now. I just... I need to be alone. Please. Just leave me alone tonight."
"Kat, wait!"
But I was already closing my door, sliding down against it as sobs wracked my body. Through the wood, I heard him stand there for a long moment before his footsteps finally retreated.
Tomorrow, I'd rebuild my walls. Tomorrow, I'll be strong again.
Tonight, I just needed to break.