Chapter 8 Cade
Today was an absolute shitshow. Anger had been radiating off me all morning after Talon casually mentioned the two direworgs they put down on patrol yesterday.
Command would want to know why they didn't file the incident reports immediately, why I was only hearing about it now, and why my soldiers thought protocol was optional.
I was going to get grilled, and they damn well knew it too.
I ordered them both to fill out their reports ASAP so I could get them submitted, but the mess of paperwork they gave me needed to be revised, not once, but twice before I deemed the reports fit for submission.
FROM: General L. Green
TO: Captain C. Green
SUBJECT: Omega Status Compliance
Captain Green,
I am conducting a status review regarding the pack omega currently assigned to your unit.
When I approved your unit's transfer request, it was with the understanding that Omega Mills would complete weekly evaluations with the base's chief science officer, in accordance with the medical and behavioral monitoring requirements following the Falcon City incident.
I have been informed that there are no scheduled appointments to date. I assume this was an oversight while you settled your team into their new residence and duties. To ensure compliance, I have arranged the first appointment on your behalf.
Omega Mills will report to the Science Department at 0800 hours on Friday, accompanied by a chaperone of your choosing.
Failure to meet the evaluation protocol moving forward will result in administrative review.
General L. Green
Central New Arca Military Division
I had wondered how long it would take my father to check in on Rowan.
Three days. The answer unsettled me more than I wanted to admit.
Why was he so focused on her? I was certain now it had nothing to do with exerting control over me, which was his usual approach.
This was different. He wanted something from Rowan specifically.
I already had more than enough on my plate, and Rowan’s scheduled appointment with the chief science officer officially joined the growing list of stressors.
Add Talon’s insistence that she practice shifting and hunting, and Killian’s brooding, and it felt like every member of my unit was determined to test my patience.
I had told Talon he needed to train Rowan, teaching her to control her wolf, and I stood by that.
But the logistics were a nightmare. We had to keep her safe, maintain operational secrecy, and still somehow prepare her for the field.
Every variable had to be controlled. That was how our unit operated, and how we had stayed alive for so long.
No surprises, every possibility accounted and planned for.
The biggest variable was Rowan. She had already proven that we could not rely on her judgement.
My usual trip to the fitness center, lifting weights and blasting loud metal in my ears, did nothing to relieve my stress. I remained wound tight and on edge. I hated the feeling of losing control, hated that too many variables were outside my command.
When I returned to the dormitory, I spotted Killian leaving the bathroom. He had been moving like a ghost for days, slipping in and out of his room only for necessities.
"Killian," I called as I hurried down the hall, standing between him and his bedroom door. He turned, facing me with a flat expression.
Rowan and Ryker were watching a movie in the living room, so I opted to sign, in order to keep our conversation private.
Talon is taking Rowan hunting tonight. He needs to train her wolf. There is a real possibility Command will send us north for a covert mission soon, and she has to be prepared. We're all going, so be ready to head out at 2300.
Have fun with that, he signed with a snort, already turning to leave.
I put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.
That was an order, I signed with a growl. We need you. You can't avoid her forever. Especially now that Rowan is bound to us. All of us. I can feel how much it hurts you to stay away from her.
You know nothing. Stay out of my head, brother.
Killian signed the words with a snarl and tried to push past me and disappear into his room, just like he had every night since Rowan’s escape attempt.
I followed him inside, closing the door behind us. He dropped onto the bed as the metal frame and bedsprings groaned under his weight.
Without looking at me, he signed, Get out.
I started signing furiously, but he refused to look at me, so I switched to speaking. I had wanted to keep our conversation private, but his stubbornness made that impossible.
"I know she hurt you," I began.
His eyes narrowed, and a low growl rumbled from his chest. He was warning me not to continue this line of conversation. His expression read, don't go there, so I changed tactics.
"Fine. I don't care if you never speak to her again.
That is your choice. But as your senior officer, I am ordering you to do this.
You have an obligation to your pack, and we need you.
Full unit attendance is required while she shifts.
Those woods are crawling with direworgs now.
Anything could happen. Anything could go wrong. We need all hands on deck."
He sighed, crossing his legs and leaning back against the headboard.
Anything? Not anything, Cade. Crane will run again. Stupid to trust her.
"Maybe I am stupid, but I don't have another choice.
Eventually, we have to learn how to trust each other.
I feel her guilt through the bond. It's heavy, no, crushing.
Talon hears her thoughts, circling over and over, trying to figure out how to prove she is sorry.
Mostly to you. You should have seen her when you left, after she tried to apologize to you. She was–"
Do not! Do not tell me what she was! Don't care. She did this. She betrayed me.
I sighed and rubbed my temples before sitting down on the edge of his bed. Part of me had known Killian would struggle to forgive Rowan.
Searching my memories, I tried to think if any woman had ever shown him kindness. Genuine kindness. My mother had been his own personal monster his entire life. Killian grew up with a woman's cruelty crushing him, and no mother to help temper that cruelty with a woman's love.
Then Rowan walked into our lives, and he reached for her with everything in him.
He craved what she represented. A gentle touch.
Softness. The type of feminine love his circumstances had denied him of since birth.
He fell for her hard, like all of us did, but he was the one who defended her the most. He trusted her and let her see through his armor.
Killian allowed her to get close enough to hurt him, and she took advantage of that.
He was mad at Rowan, sure, but he was equally angry at himself for trusting her so easily.
"I am not telling you how to handle your relationship with Rowan.
But this cannot continue. The brooding, the disappearing, refusing to be near her.
She is part of this unit and part of this pack, whether or not you forgive her.
We protect our own. The brat may need protecting from herself and her own misguided decisions, but that does not change that she is our pack-bonded omega. "
I continued, staring him down. "Claim her or do not claim her; that is your business. But you will follow my orders, and you will be there tonight. Do you understand, Staff Sergeant?"
Killian's fingers signed back, tight and pissed, Understood, sir, before he looked away.
Then I left him to sulk in that cave he calls a room.
I understood why he was acting like this; I really did, but it was getting old fast. The strain between him and Rowan was bleeding through the bond now, winding the rest of us tight and putting every nerve on edge.
We could not carry this tension much longer.
He needed to get his emotions under control.
I had barely made it three steps into the hallway before a shriek tore from the living room.
I moved fast, ready for a threat, only to rush in and see Rowan clinging to Ryker's side on the couch.
She covered her eyes with both hands to avoid watching the TV.
A masked psychopath revved a chainsaw and ripped into some poor victim on the screen while Rowan yelled, "Yuck, Ryker! "
"I thought you said you liked horror!" Ryker said, laughing as he tried to peel her hands off her face and force her to watch.
"I do! I like ghosts, witches, haunted houses and creepy things, not human flesh masks and people turning into blood fountains!" she yelled, squeezing her eyes shut.
"This is a classic slasher, Kitten. A fucking masterpiece of art, culture, and cinema! Made before the world turned boring as hell. Do you know how political this movie actually is? They would arrest the director on sight if he tried to pitch this in New Arca."
"It may be political, but it's disgusting," she said, peeking through a gap in her fingers.
"If you think this is bad, wait until the sequel. They turn the, you know, people into chili. Real gourmet experience, very farm to table."
"What!? Ew! We are not watching the sequel. I'm picking the next—"
She stopped talking abruptly when she noticed me standing behind the couch and turned, concern softening her features.
"Is everything okay?"
"Everything is fine," I answered curtly, grabbing my laptop off the counter and sitting on the opposite side of the couch to finish some paperwork.
A few moments later, Rowan untangled herself from Ryker, slipping off the couch and settling next to me instead. She rested her head on my shoulder, and her fingers moved hesitantly in my lap, attempting to sign something.
At first her movements were unsure, but then she steadied them, signing, Stressed?