POV: Cassian
Discipline was easier when I didn't question orders.
I stand at the edge of camp watching Aphrodite work with Bastien on controlled shifting, and I can't stop thinking about how simple everything used to be. The pack gave commands. I enforced them. Order was maintained through strict hierarchy and consequences for those who stepped out of line.
Clear. Direct. Uncomplicated.
I was trained from childhood to be the perfect Beta. The enforcer who carried out the Alpha's will without hesitation or moral debate. Taught that mercy weakened packs and that maintaining order required hard choices that softer wolves couldn't make.
I believed it all. Absorbed every lesson about hierarchy and discipline and the necessity of keeping the weak in their proper place. Never questioned whether the orders I enforced were just or cruel or fundamentally wrong.
Until now.
