“Better,” she said. “Now, suspect is barricaded in the northwest corner. What’s your approach?”
I watched Team Two move through the problem, evaluating their decision-making against the scenario parameters. Two made the right call. Three hesitated. The rest followed whoever seemed most confident, which was exactly the problem I was trying to address with this training.
Critical thinking under pressure. Independent assessment. Not following orders blindly just because someone had authority.
My team had followed orders. Had trusted their commander to make the right call. And I’d led them straight into an ambush that killed all six of them while I was the only one who walked out.
I shook my head sharply, forcing the memory back into the locked box where I kept it. Focus. The scenario. The training. The job I’d come to Hollow Haven to do specifically because it kept me occupied and didn’t require getting close to anyone.
“Time,” Sable called. “Scenario complete. Return to briefing positions.”
The teams filtered back to the main floor, some looking pleased with themselves, others clearly aware they’d made mistakes. Sable pulled up her evaluation matrix, and I prepared for the joint debrief we’d agreed to run together.
Except I made the mistake of glancing at where Team Three was gathering, and caught sight of Matthews, a young alpha trainee who’d been pushing boundaries all morning, crowding another trainee with aggressive body language that had nothing to do with the scenario we’d just run.
“Matthews,” I called out, my voice dropping to command register without conscious thought. “Personal space. Step back.”
He did, but the resentment in his scent was obvious. Problem trainee. The kind who thought being an alpha meant you could intimidate your way through situations instead of actually learning tactical doctrine.
I’d dealt with his type in the military. Usually they either learned or they got people killed.
We ran through the debrief, and I noted that Matthews participated minimally, his attention drifting to Sable more often than the tactical analysis we were discussing. Not professional interest. Something else. Something that made my alpha sit up and take notice in a way I really didn’t need it to.
“Next scenario,” Sable announced when we finished the debrief. “Active threat, close quarters, civilian present. Matthews, you’re primary responder.I will play the civilian role.”
I glanced at her sharply. That wasn’t in the training plan we’d agreed on.
She met my gaze steadily. “Problem, Hollow?”
“No ma’am.” But I moved closer to the observation position, something in my gut saying this scenario was going to go wrong before it even started.
The scenario setup was simple. Matthews was supposed to respond to an active threat report, locate the civilian, and execute proper verbal de-escalation and protective positioning. Standard protocol. Simple execution.
Except Matthews approached it like a dominance display instead of a rescue operation.
I watched him crowd Sable against the training wall, using his size to intimidate even though this was supposed to be about verbal de-escalation and protective positioning. She was playing a frightened civilian, but I could see the moment his aggression crossed from scenario into something else. Something that made her scent spike with adrenaline and her posture shift from acting to actual defensive tension.
The young alpha had Sable backed against the training wall, using his size to intimidate even though this was supposed to be a simulation.
I moved before I thought. Before I could remind myself that this wasn’t my team, wasn’t my responsibility, wasn’t my business to interfere.
One second I was across the room observing the active shooter scenario. The next I was between them, my hand locked around the trainee’s arm and my voice dropping to the register that made people’s hindbrain sit up and pay attention.
“Stand down.”
The kid couldn’t have been more than twenty-two. He went pale and stumbled back. The other trainees froze. The entire training scenario ground to a halt as fifteen people suddenly remembered that Dane Hollow didn’t raise his voice often, and when he did, smart people listened.
Sable’s scent spiked with adrenaline and something sharper. Fear, maybe, though it was gone so fast I almost missed it. But I’d caught it. Had felt it like a physical blow, and my alpha was screaming MINE with an intensity I hadn’t experienced since before my team died.
Which was a problem. A significant problem. Because I didn’t do this anymore. Didn’t let people matter enough to trigger protective instincts. Didn’t allow myself to care about anyone who might get hurt because of my failures.
She stepped out from behind me, and I could see the fury building in her dark amber eyes. Not directed at the trainee.
Directed atme.
“Hollow.” Her voice was dangerously calm, the kind of calm that preceded explosions. “A word. Outside. Now.”
I released the trainee and followed her out of the training facility, very aware that fifteen pairs of eyes were tracking our exit. The October air hit cold after the warmth of the building, and I watched her stalk ten paces away before whirling to face me.
