Chapter 3 REQUEST
Leo’s POV
Morning always came early at the training camp.
The sun had barely crested the treeline when the guards assembled on the open field, boots thudding against packed earth, weapons glinting faintly in the pale light. The air was cold enough to sting the lungs, sharp with the scent of dew and iron. I preferred it this way. Cold air kept warriors alert. Discomfort reminded them that the world did not wait for anyone to feel ready.
I paced slowly along the edge of the field, arms crossed behind my back, eyes scanning every movement. Two young guards were sparring near the center, their strikes fast but careless. Too much enthusiasm, not enough discipline.
“Again,” I ordered. “And this time, watch your balance. If you fall like that in real combat, you will not get back up.”
They reset immediately, faces flushed with effort and embarrassment. The rest of the guards straightened, sharpening their focus. Good. Fear of correction was better than false confidence.
This was my role. Training. Defense. Order.
It was simple. Predictable. The way life was supposed to be.
I was halfway through correcting another pair when I felt a familiar presence approach. Calm. Steady. Confident in a way that came naturally rather than being forced. I turned and found Max walking toward me, hands clasped behind his back, expression relaxed.
“You are pushing them hard today,” he said.
“They need it,” I replied. “The border has been restless. Rogues do not hesitate when they sense weakness.”
Max nodded, glancing over the field. “You have always been thorough.”
We fell into easy conversation after that. Patrol schedules. Supply shortages. A recent skirmish near the eastern boundary. Nothing unusual, yet everything carried weight. With his impending inheritance of the Alpha title, every decision mattered more now.
At some point, without thinking much of it, I mentioned what I had noticed the night before.
“I saw Aria near the fire,” I said. “After everyone else had gone.”
Max paused.
It was subtle, but I caught it. His shoulders stiffened just slightly, his gaze flickering away before returning to me. He did not ask for details. Instead, he changed the subject entirely.
“I will be leaving soon,” he said. “Border defense unit. One year of training.”
I stopped walking.
The news was not unexpected, yet hearing it spoken aloud made it real in a way nothing else had. I turned fully toward him and allowed myself a grin.
“About time,” I said. “The pack will be a mess without you.”
He smiled faintly. “You will keep them in line.”
“For a while,” I replied. “Until you come back and take over properly.”
He studied me for a long moment, then sighed softly. “There is something else.”
I already knew what he was going to say. I just had not wanted to hear it.
“While I am gone,” Max continued, “I need someone I trust to look after Aria.”
My jaw tightened before I could stop it.
I had known Aria most of my life. Or rather, I had known of her. She was always nearby, always quiet, always standing just behind Max like she belonged there yet somehow did not. She rarely spoke unless spoken to. When she did, her voice was soft enough to be missed if you were not paying attention.
To me, she was fragile. Not physically weak perhaps, but too withdrawn for a pack that valued presence and strength. A child still hiding from a world that had no patience for hesitation.
“I am not exactly suited for that,” I said carefully. “You know my responsibilities.”
“I do,” Max said. “That is why I am asking you.”
That irritated me more than if he had argued.
I exhaled slowly, forcing my temper down. “The border is unstable. I will be stretched thin.”
“I trust you,” he said again, simply.
I did not answer.
Instead, I shifted the conversation away, muttering about patrol routes and recent rogue sightings. Max allowed it, though I could tell he was disappointed. He did not press the issue, but his eyes followed me as I eventually excused myself and left the training ground.
I told myself I was annoyed because he had put me in an uncomfortable position.
That was only part of the truth.
The rest was that I did not want responsibility for someone like Aria. I did not have the patience. I did not have the time. And I certainly did not want to be the one blamed if something went wrong.
As I headed toward the border, the forest closing around the narrow path, I pulled out my phone. I needed to refuse properly. Not here, not in person, but in a way that would not damage my relationship with Max.
I typed slowly, choosing each word with care.
Max, about Aria. I do not think I am the best choice.
I hesitated, then erased the sentence.
The wind shifted.
I froze mid-step.
Blood.
Fresh and sharp, carried unmistakably on the air. My head snapped up, senses flaring as I scanned the trees ahead. The forest was too quiet. Birds had gone silent. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
Then I saw movement.
Figures emerged from between the trees, their postures wrong, their scents foreign and hostile. Rogues. At least four of them. Possibly more.
They were circling someone.
My heart dropped when I recognized the figure at the center.
Aria.
She stood with her back pressed against a fallen tree, chest rising and falling rapidly. In her hand was a small blade, held tightly enough that her knuckles were white. Her stance was defensive and untrained, but she was alert, eyes darting between her attackers, calculating distance and timing.
One rogue lunged forward with a snarl.
Aria ducked just in time, slashing upward. The blade caught skin. Blood spilled. Not a killing strike, but enough to make the rogue recoil with a curse.
Another laughed and moved to flank her.
She did not scream.
She did not run.
She stayed exactly where she was.
Something hot and violent surged through me.
I shifted before I consciously decided to, bones cracking as my body surged forward with a roar that shook the trees. I tore into the rogues without restraint, claws ripping through flesh, teeth snapping down with brutal precision.
They were unprepared. Overconfident.
They died quickly.
When the last body hit the ground, silence returned to the forest. My breath came hard as I forced myself back into human form, pain fading as control reasserted itself.
I turned toward Aria.
She was still standing.
Blood stained her sleeve, her hair tangled from the struggle, but her eyes were steady as they met mine. There was shock there, yes, but not fear. Not the kind I had expected.
“Are you injured?” I asked, my voice rough.
She glanced down, as if only now registering the blood. “I do not think so. Not badly.”
I frowned. She spoke clearly. Calmly. Not like someone who had just faced death.
I stepped closer, examining the wound on her arm. It was shallow, already clotting. She must have treated it instinctively, applying pressure without thinking.
“You should not have been here alone,” I said.
“I needed herbs,” she replied. “For the Doctor.”
Of course she did.
I straightened slowly, something uncomfortable settling in my chest. This was not recklessness. This was duty. Quiet, unacknowledged duty.
As we stood there, the weight of what had almost happened pressed down on me. If I had arrived a minute later.
Max’s words echoed in my mind.
I trust you.
I realized then that it was already too late to refuse.
Whether I liked it or not, I was involved now.
And for the first time, I wondered if the girl I had dismissed as timid had been stronger all along than anyone had realized.