Dominic
I woke before Ashen.
The room was still dark, only the first hints of morning creeping through the curtains.
He was curled up beside me, facing away, his breathing slow and even. His scent lingered in the air—warm, his—but beneath it was something softer.
Vulnerability.
It was the first time I had seen him sleep without tension coiling in his muscles, without the weight of his defenses pressing down on him.
I didn't move.
Didn't risk breaking the fragile peace of the moment.
But then he stirred.
A quiet inhale, a slow shift beneath the blankets. I felt it the second his mind caught up with reality—the way his body tensed, how his breathing halted for a second too long.
He was awake.
And the moment he realized I was still beside him, his entire body went rigid.
"Ashen," I murmured.
He didn't answer.
I waited, watching as his fingers curled into the blanket. "You don't have to panic. I told you I wouldn't leave."
He exhaled sharply, pushing himself up. "I wasn't panicking."
I arched a brow. "No?"
He shot me a glare, running a hand through his hair. He wouldn't look at me. "Don't make a big deal out of it."
I sat up slowly, letting my gaze linger on him. "It is a big deal."
His jaw clenched. "It doesn't mean anything."
I smirked. "You asked me to stay."
His face burned. "I was tired."
I chuckled, but I didn't push. He was already scrambling to put his walls back up, and as much as I wanted to tear them down again, I knew I had to be patient.
So instead, I stood, stretching. "You're probably hungry."
He blinked, like he hadn't expected that. "What?"
I tilted my head toward the door. "Come on. I'll make breakfast."
His brows furrowed. "You cook?"
I smirked. "You think I got this strong on takeout?"
To my surprise, his lips twitched—just slightly, just enough for me to see it before he wiped it away.
"Fine," he muttered, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "But if you burn anything, I'm taking over."
I grinned. Progress.
I watched as Ashen ran a hand through his hair, his movements stiff from lingering soreness. He tried to hide it, but I noticed the way his body protested how his muscles ached from exhaustion, from last night.
I should have told him to rest. Should have forced him to stay in bed.
But I knew better.
Ashen didn't want to be coddled.
So instead, I smirked. "You coming, or are you too sore to walk?"
His head snapped up, eyes narrowing. "I'm fine."
I chuckled, turning toward the door. "Good. Because I don't plan on carrying you."
He scoffed but followed me.
The packhouse was quieter in the early morning, most of the wolves still sleeping or training outside. That was probably the only reason Ashen didn't immediately bolt back to his room. He hated being watched hated the whispers, the weight of their judgment.
And I hated that he had learned to expect it.
I stepped into the kitchen, pulling out a pan. "Eggs?"
Ashen leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "You really cook?"
I cracked an egg into the pan, smirking. "What, you thought I just ordered people around and ate steak every night?"
He huffed. "Wouldn't surprise me."
I let out a low chuckle, but I didn't argue. Instead, I focused on cooking, feeling his gaze on me the entire time.
Not suspicious. Not hostile.
Just…watching.
It wasn't much.
But for someone like Ashen, who spent his whole life waiting for people to hurt him, it was something.
When I slid the plate in front of him, he hesitated. "What's the catch?"
"No catch." I sat across from him, taking a bite of my own food. "Eat."
He stared at me for a moment longer before finally picking up his fork.
He took a bite.
Chewed.
Swallowed.
"…It's not terrible."
I grinned. "High praise coming from you."
He rolled his eyes, but something in his shoulders loosened.
I didn't push. Didn't ruin the moment with words he wasn't ready to hear.
Instead, I just let him eat. Let him have this small, quiet thing between us.
Because I knew trust wasn't built in grand gestures.
It was built in moments like these.
Ashen was still eating when the kitchen door swung open.
Ryker strolled in, looking half-awake and wholly amused, his sharp eyes immediately locking onto Ashen. A slow smirk curled across his face.
"Morning, omega."
Ashen stiffened, his fork freezing midair. His eyes snapped to Ryker, glowing with a quiet warning.
A low growl rumbled from his chest. "Try that again, beta."
I leaned back in my chair, biting back a grin.
Ryker chuckled, unfazed. He grabbed an apple from the counter, taking a slow, exaggerated bite. "Oh, come on. You don't have to get all snarly with me. I mean, we all know now."
Ashen's eyes darkened dangerously. "Back. Off."
I lost it. A deep laugh rumbled from my chest as I watched the two of them, Ashen bristling like a feral cat and Ryker looking like he was thoroughly enjoying himself.
"You're playing with fire," I told Ryker, still grinning.
Ryker shrugged. "I like to live dangerously."
Ashen slammed his fork down. "And you like to get your ass kicked, apparently."
Ryker smirked, his gaze flicking between the two of us. "Relax, omega. No one's judging you. If anything, I'm impressed. Not many can stand up to Dom the way you do."
Ashen's glare didn't soften, but I could see the brief flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.
Ryker was an ass, but he wasn't wrong.
Ashen wasn't weak. He never had been.
And as much as he tried to deny it, he belonged here.
I stood, grabbing our plates and setting them in the sink. "Ryker, unless you want to be scrubbing dishes, I suggest you take your apple and go."
Ryker smirked, holding his hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright. Don't get your tail in a twist."
He turned toward the door but paused, glancing at Ashen one last time. "For what it's worth, omega or not, you're still a pain in the ass. I respect that."
Ashen blinked, clearly thrown off by the comment.
By the time he recovered enough to respond, Ryker was already gone.
Silence hung between us for a beat before Ashen scoffed. "Your beta is insufferable."
I smirked. "You'll get used to him."
Ashen rolled his eyes. "Doubt it."
But his growl had faded. His posture was looser.
And for the first time since last night, he didn't look like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Ashen pushed his empty plate away, exhaling through his nose like he was trying very hard to be patient.
"I missed training today."
I leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "Yeah. You did."
His fingers curled into a fist against the table. "I need to—"
"No, you don't."
His eyes snapped up, a flash of defiance sparking in them. "I can't afford to slack off."
I sighed, pushing off the counter and walking toward him. "Ashen, your body is still recovering. The heat took a toll on you, whether you want to admit it or not."
"I feel fine."
I gave him a look.
He scowled, gripping the edge of the table like he was trying to physically hold himself back. "You always train in the mornings. The rest of the warriors will—"
"The rest of the warriors won't say a damn thing," I interrupted. "And if they do, I'll remind them why I'm their Alpha."
His jaw clenched. He hated this hated being told to take it easy, hated the idea that anyone would think he was weak.
But I wasn't going to let his stubborn pride push him past his limits.
"You don't have to prove anything, Ashen."
His shoulders tensed.
I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "Rest. That's an order."
His nostrils flared, but I saw the flicker of hesitation the way exhaustion still clung to him, the way his body wasn't as fine as he wanted me to believe.
For a second, I thought he'd argue again.
But then, with a sharp exhale, he slumped back into his chair. "…This is bullshit."
I smirked. "No, this is called taking care of yourself."
He shot me a glare but didn't get up.
That was enough of a victory for now.