FIRST SIGN OF TROUBLE
1173 Words
The call comes before dawn.
Cassius is already dressed when Seren appears in the doorway, hair loose, eyes alert.
“What happened?” she asks.
“A killing,” he replies, fastening his coat. “You’re staying here.”
“I’m a healer.”
“Not today.”
Her jaw tightens—but she follows anyway.
At the Holding Grounds
The wolf is restrained, blood still under his nails. Not snarling. Hollow. Shaking.
Seren steps forward instinctively.
“Cassius—wait.”
He doesn’t.
“Remove him from the pack immediately,” Cassius orders. “Permanent confinement in the northern cells. No council delay.”
The air freezes.
“That’s—” a council member hesitates. “That’s severe.”
“He killed without provocation,” Cassius says flatly. “After two prior warnings.”
Seren turns to him sharply. “He’s not stable. He needs evaluation—”
Cassius raises a hand.
Not to silence her.
To end the discussion.
“Seren,” he says, controlled, “step back.”
Her breath catches.
“Excuse me?”
“I will not debate sentencing in front of him,” Cassius continues. “Especially not with someone emotionally involved.”
That lands like a slap.
“I’m not emotionally involved,” she snaps. “I’m doing my job.”
“And I’m doing mine.”
The wolf looks up then—fear flickering across his face.
Seren sees it.
Cassius sees it too.
And still—
“Take him,” Cassius orders.
The guards move.
The wolf is gone within seconds.
Seren turns on him the moment they’re alone.
“You didn’t even listen.”
Cassius exhales slowly. “I did.”
“No,” she says, voice shaking. “You dismissed me.”
“He was dangerous.”
“He was sick.”
“He was both,” Cassius says. “And I will not gamble lives on potential.”
Seren’s eyes burn. “You talk about mercy like it’s a luxury.”
“It is,” he replies. “And it gets people killed.”
Silence.
Then, quieter—worse—
“You asked me to come here,” she says. “But the second things get hard, you don’t even see me.”
That’s the one that hits.
Cassius stiffens.
“You are my mate,” he says, low. “Which is exactly why I won’t let your compassion cloud judgment.”
Her voice drops. “You don’t get to decide when my compassion matters.”
She turns and walks away.
For the first time since the bond snapped into place—
Cassius doesn’t follow.
..
A Few Hours Later — Seren & Elora
Seren sits on the edge of the balcony bench, fingers twisting together as she stares out at the northern treeline. The air is sharp, clean—usually something she loves.
Today it just feels cold.
Elora joins her without ceremony, lowering herself beside her, shoulder to shoulder. No questions yet. Just presence.
Finally, Seren exhales.
“He didn’t even look at me,” she says quietly. “I’ve been ignored before—but never like that. Like I didn’t exist.”
Elora listens. Doesn’t interrupt. Doesn’t defend.
When Seren finishes, Elora hums thoughtfully.
“I’m not saying he was right,” she says carefully. “But… he’s not used to making decisions with someone else. Especially not someone he cares about.”
Seren scoffs softly. “That’s a generous interpretation.”
Elora smiles a little. “It’s a familiar one.”
Seren turns to her. “How do you know he’ll learn?”
Elora meets her gaze, steady and sure.
“Because if he cares, he will. And I can tell he does.”
Seren studies her sister for a moment, then snorts.
“Look at you. Perfect queen already.”
Elora groans. “Oh, absolutely not. I barely got used to Princess. Don’t rush me.”
They laugh quietly, then lean into each other, foreheads touching.
They spend the rest of the day surrounded by family—noise, warmth, grounding familiarity.
Cassius is there.
And for the first time, Seren doesn’t meet his eyes.
That Night — Distance
Cassius finds her near the fire, book open in her lap, gaze unfocused.
“The cooks are making tea and biscuits,” he says carefully. “Do you want any?”
“Sure.”
He waits. “Do you… want to come with me to get it?”
She doesn’t look up.
“No. I’ll take it here. Thanks.”
The word thanks is polite.
That somehow hurts worse.
Cassius nods once and leaves.
The Next Morning — Worse, Somehow:
Seren is already awake, scrolls spread across the table, notes half-written. Focused. Purposeful.
Cassius lingers in the doorway.
“Did you sleep?”
“Yes.”
“Find anything useful?”
“Mmhmm.”
He waits for more.
Nothing.
He stands there like a man facing an unsolvable problem, then finally turns and leaves without a word.
Later — Cassius, Callan, and Axel
Cassius paces once before stopping abruptly.
“I did nothing wrong,” he says flatly. “I did my job.”
Callan and Axel exchange a look.
The kind that says here we go.
Callan shrugs. “You weren’t completely wrong.”
Axel nods. “But you weren’t completely right.”
Cassius turns slowly. “Explain.”
“You dismissed her,” Callan says. “Didn’t even consider what she was saying.”
“And you did it publicly,” Axel adds calmly. “Which made it worse.”
Cassius stiffens.
“I couldn’t debate sentencing in front of—”
“That’s not the point,” Axel interrupts gently. “The point is that she wasn’t asking to overrule you. She was asking to be heard.”
Silence stretches.
Cassius exhales through his nose. “So what. I apologize.”
Callan grins. “Look at that. The big bad alpha wants to grovel to a woman.”
Cassius glares. “I don’t grovel.”
Axel sighs like a man who has seen this before.
“Then don’t. Apologize.”
Callan taps his chin dramatically. “Or—hear me out—you could do something wildly unnecessary but emotionally symbolic.”
Cassius narrows his eyes. “Such as.”
“Public acknowledgment,” Callan says brightly. “Letting her lead something important. Maybe flowers. Women like flowers. Or weapons. Hard to tell with this one.”
Axel pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Please don’t bring her weapons.”
Cassius is quiet for a long moment.
Then, softer—more honest than he means to be—
“I don’t know how to do this.”
Callan’s grin fades just a little.
“Yeah,” he says. “We noticed.”
Axel meets Cassius’s gaze.
“But you’re trying. That counts for something. Just not enough yet.”
Cassius nods slowly.
And for the first time since Seren went quiet, he knows exactly one thing:
He can’t command his way out of this.
- Writer
