Ronan delivered the black coffee to Lyra's desk—not the corporate high-rise, but a temporary office she'd commandeered in a high-security downtown building. The action itself, performing a mundane errand for the woman he used to command, was physically grating.
Lyra didn't look up from the three monitors displaying complex energy signatures. "Thank you, Alpha Kaelen. You may wait outside."
"I signed the contract," Ronan stated, leaning against the door frame, ignoring the security guard who tensed immediately. "The contract requires my presence for any operation involving the relic, the Shadow Mark heir, or the Pack's destabilization. Since the Trojan Horse just pinged the enemy's location, I am required to be present for the next phase of planning."
Lyra slowly set down her pen, her golden eyes lifting to meet his. The look was one of utter boredom, as if he were a minor glitch in her system.
"The next phase is currently scheduled for tomorrow morning," she said. "However, the collateral clause of the contract also stipulates that you must establish a functional, non-threatening relationship with the Heir."
She gestured toward a plush, cordoned-off play area in the corner of the vast office. Leo was there, building a sprawling, imaginative city out of bright magnetic blocks.
"Commence bonding, Ronan. Report to me when you've managed five uninterrupted minutes of conversation. You will not, under any circumstances, use your Alpha voice, nor attempt to enforce dominance," Lyra instructed, picking up her pen again. "Failure to comply means I pull the access key to the relic."
Ronan felt the familiar rage of being controlled, but he swallowed it, channeling the energy into cold necessity. He had to save his pack. He had to save his son.
He walked over to the play area, feeling more terrified than he had facing down a rival Alpha. Leo, engrossed in his architecture, only looked up when Ronan's shadow fell across his creation.
"Hello," Ronan said, his Alpha voice artificially gentle. "I'm Ronan."
Leo squinted at him, a miniature version of Lyra's assessing gaze. "I know. You're the man who plays the floor game."
The reference was to Ronan collapsing onto his knees in the previous chapter, and it hit Ronan with painful accuracy. The floor game.
"Yes," Ronan managed. "I—I heard you made a city. Is that... a hospital?"
Leo's expression tightened into suspicion. "No. It's a Shadow Fire Fortress. The door only opens if you have the right code."
Ronan instinctively leaned in, his powerful frame hovering over the small boy, trying to establish some sense of paternal authority, however slight. "Well, I think I could figure out the code. I am the Alpha, you know."
The word "Alpha" was his key, his identity, his command. It was supposed to invoke immediate obedience. Instead, Leo's whole body stiffened, and the faint, shadowy mark on his neck began to throb softly.
"You can't come in," Leo whispered, scrambling backward until his back hit the safety of the wall. "Mommy says bad Alphas live in cold, dark towers and don't care about their babies."
The words were a direct echo of Lyra's past pain, delivered innocently by the very child she had protected. Lyra, across the room, didn't move a muscle, but Ronan knew she was listening to every word. This was deliberate. This was the groveling.
He slowly pulled back, running a hand over his face. He was an Alpha of Alphas, capable of commanding thousands, but he couldn't even gain the trust of his own five-year-old son.
"She's right," Ronan admitted, the confession grating. He knelt down, genuinely this time, forcing himself to look smaller, less threatening. "Your mommy is always right, Leo. I made a mistake a long time ago. A very, very bad mistake."
Leo's suspicion softened marginally. He looked away, back toward the magnetic blocks. Ronan took the opportunity to try and connect, spotting a loose magnetic block.
"Can I help you build the wall?" Ronan asked softly, reaching for the block.
Bzzt!
A sharp, audible static filled the air. As Ronan's hand reached the plastic block, the magnetic block began to vibrate, and then, impossibly, it was engulfed in a tiny, crimson flame—a miniature version of the Shadow Fire. The block instantly melted into a puddle of plastic, smoking gently.
Leo giggled, completely unfazed. "Oops! Shadow Fire protection! Mommy says it only lights up when strangers try to touch the important parts of the fortress."
Ronan stared at the melted plastic, then at his own hand. His own immense Alpha power had triggered a defensive, pre-programmed magical attack from a toddler. He hadn't just been rejected; he'd been labeled a threat by his own child's subconscious magic, magic he should have protected.
Lyra finally spoke from her desk, the sound cutting through the stunned silence.
"Time's up, Ronan. Zero minutes of conversation, and one instance of property damage. That will be deducted from your first consultation fee." She stood, collecting a flash drive. "The location of the enemy is confirmed. We move out in ten minutes. You failed the bonding test, but the mission takes priority."
Ronan stood, the scent of burnt plastic stinging his nostrils. He was humbled, defeated, and, worst of all, excluded from the life he desperately needed to rejoin. He had to save the Pack, but his heart had just been scorched by the realization that saving his pack meant nothing if he couldn't save his family. The groveling was going to be harder, and far more painful, than he ever imagined.