Page 93 of The Ashpaw: Part One

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He did not speak to her as they walked, his hand on her neck more collar and lead than comfort.

She opened her mouth to speak, and then quickly shut it.

There were too many things she wanted to ask, but she did not know how he’d react to anything she said.

She recognized some of the twists and turns from the night she’d been brought to Kyntha’s room to clean, and she almost whined at the memory.

“You’re upset.”

Fern weighed her words carefully. “I don’t know where we’re going.”

Darion didn’t respond, and tension crept into her shoulders, causing his grip on her neck to tighten. “It’s not my intention to hurt you. You’ve proven your potential value to the clan. I only wish you’d done so sooner.”

Her next inhale stuttered, and she blinked back tears.

So it was her fault for not knowing something she couldn’t have possibly known.

And now she’d chosen the alpha who wanted her for her potential and utility. Not the one who’d cared enough to keep her whole before he knew her value.

“Then may I ask what your intention is?” Fern asked, eyes trained low. “If… if that’s acceptable.”

He grumbled to himself. “I thought omegas were supposed to be… sweet. Amusing. And yet you cower and squeak like a mouse.”

The words came too fast, and even as they spilled from her tongue, she braced for punishment. “I was myself until you made me the Ashpaw.”

But the harsh reprimand didn’t come, and his hold on her loosened.

“Clans thrive under strong alpha leadership,” he started slowly. “And you spent so many years as wolfkin without shifting, without the structure that our kind needs.”

His thumb drew small circles on her skin, and her shoulders began to drop.

“When I allowed you a few liberties, it was to ease you into your new role slowly, to help you adjust.”

A guard approached, then stood against the wall, bowing his head. He sniffed the air as they passed, and his head followed Fern until Darion’s hand tightened on her back.

“But it seemed instead to confuse you. You asked for more favors. You spoke too freely. And then the wolfkin began petitioning for you faster than I could refuse them. You were disrupting the order. And so I may have… over corrected.”

“I wasn’t trying to—”

“I know that now.”

Darion’s hand loosened further, fingers brushing briefly against her hair before settling at the middle of her back instead.

“You should have told me you were frightened of me.”

Fern nearly laughed at the absurdity of it. “You allowed the woman who beat me to go free, telling the whole clan it would be better if I died.”

A growl rumbled in his chest. “I admit I spoke unfairly. I was angry and did not understand why the guard was so protective of you. I understand now.”

He was silent for a moment, and then asked, “Who was it? Which she-wolf attacked you?”

“The same one who accused me of theft.”

He clicked his tongue against his teeth and sighed. “I am… grateful for my brother’s intervention.”

It was truly amazing how he could make his words sound like an apology without ever actually apologizing.