Evening settles over camp. I sit on the furs in our cave, sharpening my claws with mechanical precision. The repetitive motion is the only thing keeping me grounded. Scrape. Scrape. Scrape.
Riven enters with food wrapped in leaves. His expression is concerned as he takes in my rigid posture.
"You missed dinner again," he says quietly, sitting beside me.
I don't look up from my task. The claws need to be sharp. Perfect. "I'm not hungry."
Riven takes my hands, stilling the sharpening motion. His touch is gentle but firm. "Talk to me about what happened out there."
"I made the right tactical call," I say flatly. "The ridge route was faster, gave us higher ground. Kira was just afraid."
"Arida—"
"I was the strongest fighter in that group. The best hunter. If they'd just followed my orders, we would have been fine." The words come faster now, defensive and sharp. "Instead, Kira undermined me at every turn, made the others doubt, and created chaos."
"She saved your mission," Riven points out gently.
The words hit like a slap. "She disobeyed a direct order." I pull my hands free, stand up, start pacing. The cave feels too small suddenly. Too confining. "How am I supposed to lead if no one respects my authority? Strength should be enough. Competence should be enough."
"But it's not," Riven says. "Clearly."
I whirl on him. Anger flares hot and desperate in my chest. "Then what's the point? Varek took power through strength. He's still in control because he's strong enough to hold it. Strength wins. That's how it works."
"Is that really what you believe?"
"It's what I've seen." My voice cracks slightly. The anger wavers, revealing something rawer underneath. "Sorin was good and kind and fair, and they killed him for it. Hardik tried to lead with honor, and Varek crushed him. I'm the best hunter, the strongest fighter, and everyone looks at me like I'm nothing."
I sit down heavily. The anger drains into something rawer. "If strength isn't enough, if being the best isn't enough, then what am I supposed to be? What else do I have?"
The question hangs in the air. I realize I genuinely don't know the answer.
Riven is quiet for a long moment. When he speaks, his voice is careful. Measured.
"Can I tell you what it was like? Being an outcast?"
"You already told me—"
"Not all of it." His voice is patient. "It felt like being erased. Like I didn't exist anymore except as a warning to others about what happens when you defy the Alpha. The worst part wasn't the hunger or danger. It was the silence. Going days or weeks without hearing another voice. Forgetting what my own voice sounded like."
I listen, my anger quieting. Something in his tone makes me pay attention in a way I haven't been paying attention to anyone lately.
"I survived because I was strong," Riven continues. "Because I was a good fighter, a skilled hunter. But you know what was killing me? The loneliness. The isolation. Being strong kept me alive, but it also kept me completely alone."
He turns to face me. His eyes hold mine. "When I found you, when I helped you, it wasn't because you were strong. It was because you were alone, like I had been. And I remembered what that felt like."
"What's your point?" I ask. My voice is softer now. The defensiveness has drained away, leaving only exhaustion.
"My point is that strength alone is not leading." He reaches for my hand. "You can't lead people you don't know. People you don't care to know."
"I know them well enough. I know who's strong, who's weak—"
"Do you know why Kira hates you so much?" Riven interrupts.
The question catches me off guard. I hesitate, searching for an answer that suddenly feels inadequate. "Because I'm Sorin's mate and she resents the title I was given."
"No." Riven shakes his head. There's something sad in his expression. Like he can see how much I'm missing. "You should talk to her. Not as the strong hunter evaluating the weak wolf, but as one person to another."
"Why would I do that?"
"Because if you want them to follow you, you need to understand what they're fighting for. What they've lost. What makes them more than just tools in your war against Varek."
I want to argue. Want to tell him he's wrong. That strength is enough. That being the best is enough.
But something in his words unsettles me. Makes me question everything I thought I knew.
I think of how Kira looked at me today. Rage and judgment, yes. But what else? What did I miss because I was too busy defending myself to actually see her?
"She lost someone," I say slowly. "Didn't she?"
"Talk to her," Riven says. "Find out."
"I don't know how to do this." The admission costs me. "I don't know how to be anything other than strong."
"Then learn." His voice is gentle. "You learned to hunt. You learned to fight. You can learn this too."
We sit in silence. It’s heavy with things I'm not ready to say. Questions I'm not ready to answer.
Riven's words echo in my mind, fighting against everything I've believed about strength and leadership.
Sorin made me Alpha because he saw something in me beyond strength. But I've been too angry, too hurt, too focused on proving myself to see what he saw.
"I miss him," I whisper. "Sorin. I miss him so much."
"I know."
"He would have known what to do today. He would have made the right call."
"Maybe." Riven pulls me closer. "Or maybe he would have frozen too."
I lean against Riven. Let his warmth seep into my bones.
He kisses my forehead.
Maybe he's right.
Maybe I don't know them at all.
And maybe that's been the problem all along. I've been so focused on proving I'm strong enough, skilled enough, worthy enough, that I never stopped to see the wolves I'm trying to lead. Never stopped to understand them.
Kira. Thorne. Dane. Even Hardik.
They're not just obstacles or followers or judges of my worth.
They're people. And I've treated them like tools.
Tomorrow, I'll have to face all the wolves who watched me fail.
Tomorrow, I'll have to prove I can do better.