Rejected as Weak: The Alpha Wants Me Back

What Do You Think?

I slept six hours and woke with a headache that stayed at the base of my skull instead of climbing behind my eyes.

My fingers were warm.

The fatigue was still there, but it had settled into something manageable.

I ate, dressed, and found a note Silas had slipped under my door.

Operational meeting. Nine. Main room.

At nine, I walked into the border station office.

The main room was small and functional. A table. Six chairs. A whiteboard with half a patrol rotation still scrawled

across one corner.

Elias sat at the far end with a half-empty cup of coffee near his elbow.

Silas stood beside the window with a thin folder in his hand.

Anya had a tablet open in front of her. A trainer I hadn't met before sat across from her, broad-shouldered and gray

at the temples.

A middle-aged man in a worn jacket leaned against the wall near the door.

He was already watching me.

Elias motioned toward the empty chair.

"Thanks for coming."

I sat.

"The Calder case raised a question," Elias said. "We've been handling unstable Shift cases in separate pieces.

Medical handles physical risk. Training handles technique. Families deal with whatever happens at home."

He glanced at Anya.

"What happened with Ben didn't fit neatly into any of those."

Anya nodded.

"His physical problem was real, but medical treatment wasn't what changed the outcome."

The trainer tapped one finger against the table.

"So the question is whether we need a different kind of session, or whether Calder was a one-off."

"Before we decide that," the man by the door said, "maybe somebody should explain why an outsider is helping

decide how Greyhaven handles its families."

No one looked surprised.

Silas closed the folder.

"Tomas Vey. Border patrol lead. Rogue-born. He's been with Greyhaven longer than most of us."

Tomas gave me a short nod that wasn't quite a greeting.

"You helped one kid," he said. "Maybe two, if we're counting the boy in Ashford. You've been here a couple of days."

His eyes stayed on mine.

"We're the ones who'll still be living with whatever gets put in place after you decide the border isn't for you."

It wasn't friendly.

It also wasn't unfair.

"You're right," I said.

Tomas's eyebrows moved slightly.

"I don't know what Greyhaven can sustain. I don't know your staffing history or what families here have already

tried."

I folded my hands on the table.

"I can tell you what I saw with Ben. And what I'd be careful about repeating."

"Then say that," Tomas said. "But don't build something around yourself and call it a solution."

"I wasn't planning to."

Elias leaned forward.

"We're not building anything permanent today. We're deciding whether there's enough here to test."

He looked toward Silas.

"Capacity?"

Silas opened the folder.

"Kern can be pulled from general training two afternoons a week without leaving a serious gap."

So the trainer was Kern.

"Anya can cover medical observation if the group stays small. Keller and Hart are both still waiting for their

rescheduled meetings."

"Two afternoons won't cover every unstable Shift case we have," Kern said.

"No," Silas said. "It won't."

He turned a page.

"We're not trying to cover every case."

Elias looked across the table.

At me.

"What do you think?"

For a second, I thought he meant Anya.

Then I realized everyone else had already spoken.

He was still looking at me.

I took a breath.

"I wouldn't start with a big group."

No one interrupted.

"Ben got worse when too many things were happening around him and everyone was trying to control the same

problem from a different direction. So I'd keep it small."

"How small?" Elias asked.

"Three families, maybe."

Anya shook her head almost immediately.

"Two."

I looked at her.

"If I'm expected to monitor physical signs properly, two. Three means either I split my attention or I pull another

medic away from regular coverage."

"Then two," I said.

No reason to defend a number I'd guessed at.

Kern leaned back in his chair.

"And I wouldn't assume every parent belongs in the room. Some kids do worse with family watching."

"Then don't assume," I said. "Ask them."

"The parents?"

"The kid too."

Kern considered that, then nodded once.

I continued.

"Medical stays involved. Training stays involved. Family is part of it when the kid wants them there. We keep notes

on what happens before things start going wrong, not just what the Shift looks like once it does."

Tomas crossed his arms.

"And you?"

"I can watch. Tell you what I notice."

"Why not handle the difficult cases yourself?" Kern asked.

"Because then you learn whether I can handle them."

I looked around the table.

"You don't learn whether Greyhaven can."

Tomas gave a quiet, humorless laugh.

"And when you leave?"

There it was.

Not if.

When.

I couldn't tell him he was wrong.

I hadn't joined Greyhaven.

I hadn't promised anyone I would stay.

So I didn't.

"I'm not asking you to build this around me," I said. "If it only works when I'm in the room, it isn't much of a plan."

Tomas studied me.

He didn't look convinced.

That was fine.

Silas glanced down at his folder.

"Keller and Hart are the easiest place to start. Both families already agreed to another meeting with Mara after

being told who she is."

"Another meeting isn't the same as a pilot," Anya said.

"No," Silas agreed. "They'd have to consent again."

Elias nodded.

"They will."

He looked at Kern.

"You assess whether each child wants family present."

Then Anya.

"You set the medical stop conditions."

Anya tapped something onto her tablet.

"Pain outside normal Shift range. Loss of responsiveness. Cardiac irregularity. Anything I don't like, session ends."

"Good."

Elias turned back to me.

"What happens if the first session fails?"

"We stop."

He waited.

I added, "We write down what happened. We don't decide the family needs to try harder. And we don't push them

into a second session because the first one didn't give us the result we wanted."

Kern nodded slowly.

"That I can work with."

Tomas pushed away from the wall.

"You're assuming Calder wasn't luck."

"No," I said. "That's what the pilot is for."

He looked at me for another second.

"I'll believe it when it works twice."

"Fair."

No one smiled.

Elias looked around the table.

"Two families. Voluntary participation. Anya covers medical. Kern handles Shift technique. Family involvement

depends on the child and the case."

His eyes moved to me.

"Mara observes and advises. She does not become the handler every difficult case gets sent to."

I nodded.

"Silas schedules it. After two sessions, we review what worked and what didn't."

He looked around once more.

"Anything else?"

No one spoke.

"Then that's the plan."

The meeting ended without ceremony.

Anya left first, already talking to Kern about scheduling around the medical wing.

Tomas paused by the door.

He looked back at me.

"Twice."

"I heard you."

Then he left.

Silas gathered the loose pages from the table.

One sheet remained in front of me.

Two family names.

Tentative times.

A space for medical notes.

A space for training observations.

Near the bottom, someone had written:

Mara Vale — observe / advise.

Small.

Temporary.

Exactly what we'd agreed.

Silas stopped beside the door.

"Problem?"

"No."

He gave me a look that suggested he wasn't convinced, but he didn't ask again.

Elias came up behind him, tablet tucked under one arm.

"Tomorrow. Ten."

"For what?"

"Pilot review."

I looked at him.

"You already decided what we're doing."

"I did."

He started down the hall, then looked back.

"I'll still want to know what you think."