Ryder's POV
I leaned back in my chair at the head of the table, my eyes sweeping over the group in front of me. They were the younger warriors and athletes of my pack, strong, arrogant, brimming with the kind of restless energy that made them dangerous if left unchecked.
"You've got to be kidding us, Ryder," Jace, one of the senior runners, snapped. His jaw was tight, his amber eyes glowing faintly with irritation. "You're telling us we can't use our own gifts? Against mortals? What's the point of being who we are then?"
The meeting hall always had a faint scent of cedarwood and wolf musk the scent of home, but today it carried an edge. Anger, barely restrained. The air was thick with it.
I kept my tone even, but steel lined my words. "The point is control. Discipline. The point is not exposing ourselves to the entire human world just because your pride can't handle losing a sprint."
There was a murmur of agreement but not with me. The sound rippled through the room, low and defiant.
"It's not exposure," Kayden, another hot-headed racer, argued. "Mortals don't even understand what they're seeing. They think it's adrenaline, training "
"They think it's cheating!" I cut in sharply, slamming my palm against the table. The sound cracked through the murmurs like a whip. "And they're not wrong. You're not proving skill when you use your wolf to win against them. You're proving you're a coward who can't fight fair."
That got them. Faces hardened. Chests puffed up. And just like that, I knew the conversation was going to get worse before it got better.
"You're calling us cowards?" Jace growled, his voice deepening into something just shy of his wolf form.
"I'm calling you undisciplined," I said, leaning forward so my gaze locked with his. "Which, in my book, is worse."
The tension was electric now. I could feel the weight of a dozen eyes on me, measuring me, deciding whether to keep pushing or back down.
"Ryder, you've been running this pack like a prison lately," one of the older members, Vaughn, said from the far end. "First, you tell us not to hunt near mortal settlements. Then you stop the 00:00 night runs without clearance. Now this? What's next? We walk around in silver chains to 'blend in'?"
There was a ripple of laughter at that, but I didn't so much as twitch a smile.
"You think discipline is a prison? You think restraint makes you weak?" I asked, my voice low but cutting through the noise. "I'm keeping you alive. I'm keeping all of us alive. Because one slip — one arrogant display — and the wrong mortal sees too much. Then it's not just your little race that's in trouble. It's the entire pack."
Jace stepped closer to the table, resting his fists on the polished wood. "You sound just like your father."
That hit like a sucker punch not because it was true, but because of the bitter edge in his voice when he said it. My father had been feared, respected, and hated in equal measure. His laws had been absolute, his punishments brutal.
"I'm not my father," I said coldly. "If I were, this conversation would've ended the moment you opened your mouth."
"Maybe you should be," Vaughn muttered. "At least he didn't coddle us with lectures."
The words sent a slow burn of rage through me. My wolf stirred, restless under my skin.
"I'm not here to coddle anyone," I said, standing up. The chair scraped against the floor, the sound sharp as a blade. "But if you think breaking rules to show off to humans makes you strong, you're nothing but pups playing at being wolves."
Kayden scoffed. "And you think hiding makes you an alpha worth following?"
The room went still. That was the line. You didn't question my right to lead in front of others unless you were ready to challenge me for it.
I took a slow step toward him. The space between us crackled with dominance. My wolf pushed forward, golden eyes flashing.
"Careful," I said softly, the kind of quiet that made the room feel smaller. "Because if you want to test that theory, I'll be more than happy to show you how much hiding I've been doing."
For a moment, no one breathed. Kayden held my gaze, but the flicker of his wolf's submission gave him away. He looked away first.
"That's what I thought," I said, turning back toward the table. "This is the last time we have this conversation. You want to race? Do it without your wolf. You want to prove you're better? Do it without cheating. Anyone caught breaking that will answer to me personally and I promise, you won't like my methods."
The murmurs this time were different. No laughter. No scoffing. Just quiet, reluctant acceptance.
I could still feel their resentment though, like heat in the air. It didn't matter. They could hate me all they wanted. Hate was better than recklessness.
As they began to file out of the hall, Jace lingered by the door, his voice low enough for only me to hear.
"This isn't over, Ryder. You can't keep leashing us forever."
I didn't look at him when I answered. "Then be ready when the leash comes off because by then, you'll wish you'd listened."
When the door shut behind him, the silence in the hall was deafening. My hands were still tense at my sides, and the wolf in me still wanted to tear through something.
But this was the cost of being alpha. Sometimes, protecting your pack meant being the villai
n in their eyes.
And I'd play that part as long as it took.