Chapter 91

Chapter 91
Kaedan's POV

The three-hour drive back to Stormfang gave me too much time to think about how to explain what had happened.

It wasn't good news or bad news. It was complicated news, and I wasn't sure how Gregory would take it.

When I pulled into the compound, I could see them at the window of the guest quarters. Nephele looked tense, Gregory looked like he was preparing for the worst.

Through our bond, I felt her relief that I was back, but also her anxiety. She was trying to figure out from my emotions whether I had good news or bad news.

I walked up the stairs, still trying to figure out the best way to explain it all.

The door opened before I could knock.

"Kaedan." Nephele's violet eyes searched my face, then she was in my arms, her warmth melting some of the tension I'd carried back from Blackstone. "How bad is it?"

"It's... complicated," I said, stepping into the room where Gregory and Rook waited. Both men were on their feet, watching my face carefully.

Gregory cut straight to it. "Just tell me. Yes or no?"

"It's not that simple." I ran a hand through my hair, feeling every hour of political maneuvering in my bones. "They didn't say no. But they didn't say yes either."

"What does that mean?" Nephele asked, still close enough that I could feel her warmth against my side.

"It means you get a chance, Gregory. But it comes with conditions. Strict ones."

I watched hope and wariness war in his expression. "What kind of conditions?"

I moved to the chair across from him, needing to sit down for this conversation. "Thirty-day formal evaluation period. Three neutral assessors from different packs will observe and test everything you do. No Stormfang personnel involved in the assessment—they want to avoid any appearance of favoritism."

Gregory was quiet for a moment, processing. "That's... actually fair," he said slowly.

"There's more." I leaned forward, meeting his eyes. "Any incident—any injury that can be traced back to your methods or appointment—ends the experiment permanently. Not just for you, but as a precedent. No other pack in the alliance would be able to appoint wolfless to leadership positions."

Everyone in the room went quiet. Rook whistled low under his breath.

"And if I pass?" Gregory asked.

"Then you get the position. Full training authority, same as any other instructor. But this doesn't automatically apply to other packs. Each Alpha makes their own decision based on your results."

Nephele framed the real question: "So you're not just fighting for your own future. You're fighting for every wolfless who might want a chance after you."

Gregory was quiet for a long moment, staring at his hands. "No pressure at all."

"I know it's not what we hoped for," I said. "The restrictions are tighter than I wanted, the stakes are higher—"

"But it's a chance," Gregory interrupted, looking up. "An actual chance to prove myself."

"A chance with the entire northern alliance watching," Rook added grimly. "And not all of them rooting for you to succeed."

"Some will be hoping I fail," Gregory said with stark honesty. "Hoping to prove their prejudices right."

"Some will," I agreed. "But others genuinely want to see if this can work."

"What do you think?" I asked Gregory directly. "Is it worth it? The scrutiny, the pressure, knowing that one mistake could close this door for everyone who comes after you?"

He stood and walked to the window, looking out at the training grounds where pack warriors were still running evening drills. The fading sunlight caught the determination in his profile.

"Twenty-two years ago, Ophelia told me I'd never amount to anything because I couldn't shift. That I was fundamentally broken, useful only as a tool for her magic." His voice was steady, but I could hear the old pain underneath. "She convinced me that being wolfless meant being worthless."

He turned back to us. "Now six Alphas think I might be worth the political risk, if I can prove myself. That's... more than I ever thought possible."

"So you'll do it?"

"I'll do it. But not just for me." He met my eyes with the same steadiness I'd seen when he first decided to trust me. "For everyone who's been told they're not enough because they can't shift."

"No pressure at all," Nephele murmured, but she was smiling as she moved to stand beside her brother.

"Actually, there is one more thing," I said, remembering the final detail. "The assessors want to observe a full training demonstration before the formal period begins. You'd need to design and run a complete session with volunteer pack members, showing your methods in action."

Gregory's jaw tightened slightly. "When?"

"One week from today. That gives you time to prepare, but they don't want you to over-rehearse it. They want to see how you actually train, not some fancy show."

"A week to prove I belong here," Gregory said.

"A week to show them what we already know," Nephele corrected. "That you're exactly what they need, whether they realize it or not."

Rook straightened from where he'd been leaning against the wall. "What do you need from us? Resources, volunteers, anything?"

"Volunteers would help," Gregory said. "Pack members willing to train with someone who might embarrass them in front of outside assessors."

"You won't embarrass them," I said firmly. "But I'll talk to the senior staff. We'll get you people who understand what's at stake."

"And what about living arrangements?" Nephele asked. "If Gregory's staying for the evaluation..."

"Permanent quarters," I said. "Whether the evaluation succeeds or fails, you're pack now, Gregory. Both of you. That doesn't change based on politics."

Something changed in Gregory's expression—surprise, gratitude, relief. Like he'd expected conditions and got something better instead.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "For fighting for me. For giving me this chance."

"Thank you for being worth fighting for."

"So," Rook said, switching to practical matters. "What's the plan for this demonstration? What will you need?"

Gregory's expression shifted into something more focused, more determined. "Everything. Combat scenarios, injury simulations, equipment failures. If I'm going to prove that wolfless training has value, I need to show them situations where traditional methods fall short."

"And if you get volunteers hurt during the demonstration?" I had to ask.

"Then I don't deserve the position," Gregory said simply. "But that won't happen. Because unlike those assessors, I know exactly what it means to fight when everything's stacked against you. And I know how to teach others to do the same."

"One week," Nephele said, looking between us. "One week to change everything."

"One week," I said, "to let them see your value for themselves."

Gregory nodded. "Then let's get started."

As the sun set outside the window, I felt good about where we stood. The political battle was won—not completely, but enough.

Now came the harder fight: proving that change was not just possible, but necessary.

But looking at Gregory's determined face, I thought he had a real shot at making this work.