Rejected as Weak: The Alpha Wants Me Back

Ask Me

Daniel Keller stopped outside the training room and asked his daughter if she wanted him to come inside.

I heard him through the open door.

Anya was setting out water cups. Kern was marking short strips of tape on the floor for the day's exercise.

Neither of us moved.

There was a pause in the hallway.

"You're asking?" Nora said.

"You told me to."

"That doesn't mean you have to sound like it hurts."

Daniel let out something close to a tired laugh.

"I'm working on one thing at a time."

Another pause.

Then Nora said, "Yes. Come in. But don't answer for me."

"Fine."

They walked in together.

Nora came first, her bag over one shoulder. Daniel followed half a step behind, his hands empty.

She looked better than she had two days ago. Less pale. Her hair was loose around her shoulders instead of twisted

into the tight knot she'd worn during the last session.

She still looked tired.

So did her father.

Anya straightened.

"How are you feeling today?"

Nora glanced at Daniel.

He said nothing.

She looked back at Anya.

"Tired. No ringing. My head hurt a little when I woke up, but it stopped after breakfast."

"Any light sensitivity?"

"No."

Anya checked the notes from medical.

"Good enough for light work if Kern agrees."

Kern looked up.

"One variable at a time today."

Nora's mouth twisted.

"Because two scents and a chime nearly put me on the floor."

"We learned where things started changing," Kern said.

"That sounds nicer."

"It's also more useful."

Nora didn't answer.

I watched Daniel.

He'd heard the part about things changing and gone still.

His eyes had dropped to Nora's hands.

The same place he always looked first.

Before Kern started setting anything up, I said, "We should talk about what happened last time."

Nora folded her arms.

"Great."

I ignored the tone.

"Were your ears ringing before you told us?"

Her eyes came to mine.

She held them there a little too long.

Then she looked away.

"Yes."

Daniel drew a breath.

I looked at Nora.

"How long?"

"I don't know."

"Nora."

"Twenty seconds. Maybe thirty."

Daniel's mouth opened.

I turned to him before the words came out.

"Don't."

His jaw tightened.

"I didn't say anything."

"You were about to."

He looked away.

I kept my voice level.

"If she tells us the truth and the first thing she hears is that you knew better, next time she's going to think twice

before telling us anything."

Daniel stared at the floor for a few seconds.

Then he rubbed one hand over his face.

"When I saw her hands shaking, I knew where it was going."

Nora stiffened.

Daniel caught it.

He stopped.

"No." He shook his head once. "That's not what I mean."

It clearly cost him something to start again.

"When I saw your hands shaking, all I could see was the last time."

Nora didn't move.

"The medical room," he said. "Your hand bleeding through the bandage. You throwing up because somebody shut

a door too hard down the hall."

His voice had gone quieter.

"You couldn't stand normal voices for hours. I sat there all night watching you hurt, and there wasn't a damn thing I

could do about it."

Nora's arms loosened slightly.

"So when I see the same things starting again..." Daniel stopped. "I don't wait very well."

Nora looked down at her shoes.

"I know."

There was no anger in it this time.

I turned to her.

"And you didn't make waiting easier."

Her head came up.

"You told us you were fine when you weren't."

"I thought I could finish."

"Was that the only reason?"

Nora didn't answer.

Daniel shifted beside her, but stayed quiet.

"Nora?"

Her cheeks reddened.

Finally she said, "I wanted him to be wrong."

Daniel looked at her.

She stared at the floor.

"Every time he says I'm done, or I shouldn't try something, or I need to stop, I want to keep going."

"Even when you know you shouldn't?" I asked.

A long pause.

"Sometimes."

Daniel's face tightened.

Nora saw it.

"I know that's stupid."

"I didn't say that."

"You were thinking it."

"I was thinking you could get hurt."

"There."

Daniel closed his eyes for a second.

Nora gave a frustrated sound.

"I know you worry. But when you're waiting for me to fail, I want to prove I won't."

"I'm not waiting for you to fail."

"It feels like it."

Neither of them had anywhere useful to go from there.

So I didn't ask them to.

"If you want him to stop guessing," I said to Nora, "you have to give him something better than 'I'm fine.'"

Then I looked at Daniel.

"And if she gives you an honest answer, you can't turn it into permission to take the decision away from her."

The words sat badly in my own chest.

I left them there.

Anya picked up her clipboard.

"Good. Now that everyone is uncomfortable, we can make this practical."

Nora snorted despite herself.

Anya held up five fingers.

"We're using numbers."

"Oh, no."

"Yes."

"This is going to be embarrassing."

"Being unconscious in medical is more embarrassing."

Nora stared at her.

Anya didn't blink.

Kern coughed into his fist.

I looked away before Nora caught me smiling.

"One is normal," Anya said. "Two means you notice the sensory change, but it's easy. Three is uncomfortable, but

you're in control. Four means you're getting close to overload. Five means stop now."

Nora looked unconvinced.

"Why numbers?"

"Because when your ears are ringing, I don't need a speech."

Kern stepped in.

"And we only add one thing at a time. You report before every increase."

He pointed toward the scent table.

"One through three, you can ask to continue or pause. Four, we pause. No added stimulus. Five, we're done."

Daniel raised a hand slightly, then seemed to realize what he'd done.

"What if she says three and I can see she's at four?"

I looked at Anya.

She noticed.

"This one's mine," she said.

Daniel nodded.

"If her physical signs tell me she's past what she's reporting, I pause the session. Nora's number matters, but it

doesn't overrule medical safety."

"And me?" Kern asked.

"Unsafe technique is yours."

Kern nodded.

Daniel looked between them.

"So what am I supposed to do?"

"Ask," I said.

He looked at me.

"If you're worried, ask what number she's at. If you want to help, ask whether she wants help."

His eyes moved toward Nora.

"And if I think she's lying?"

Nora bristled.

Anya answered before she could.

"If Nora lies about symptoms, the session ends."

Nora looked at her.

"Immediately?"

"Immediately."

"That's harsh."

"That's the deal."

Nora crossed her arms.

I said, "You want him to trust your answer. Give him an answer he can trust."

She glared at me.

Then sighed.

"Fine."

Kern moved toward the center of the room.

"Let's see whether any of this survives contact with actual training."

The first round was deliberately boring.

One scent.

A low chime.

Nora eased into a partial Shift. Her claws extended. Her posture changed slightly.

Kern uncovered the container.

Nora breathed in.

The chime sounded.

"Two," she said.

Daniel's fingers pressed into his thighs.

He didn't speak.

Kern waited a few seconds.

"Another scent?"

Nora nodded.

"Report first."

"Still two."

A second container opened.

Nora identified both scents correctly.

"Two," she said again. Then reconsidered. "Maybe three."

Daniel's shoulders tightened.

His mouth opened.

Closed.

Then:

"What number?"

Nora looked at him.

"Three."

Daniel swallowed.

"Do you want help?"

Nora stared at him for a second.

"No."

His expression changed.

She added, "Not yet."

Daniel nodded once.

"Okay."

Nothing happened.

No argument.

No reaching.

No one had to tell him to sit down.

Kern moved to the next step.

"Same two scents. Same chime. No increase in volume."

Nora nodded.

The exercise started.

Her breathing remained steady.

She identified the first scent.

Then the second.

The chime sounded.

Her left hand trembled once.

She looked at it.

Daniel saw it too.

He went very still.

Kern asked, "Number?"

Nora hesitated.

Yesterday, that hesitation would have ended with I'm fine.

Today she said, "Three."

Another second passed.

Her eyebrows drew together.

"Actually..."

Daniel leaned forward.

He didn't speak.

Nora swallowed.

"Four."

The room stopped immediately.

"No increase," Kern said.

Anya stepped closer.

"Sit or stand?"

"Sit."

Nora lowered herself onto the chair.

Anya checked her pulse and pupils.

"Any ringing?"

"A little."

"Light?"

"Fine."

"Smell?"

"Starting to stick together."

"Good. Keep breathing."

Daniel's face had gone pale.

But he stayed where he was.

Several seconds passed.

Then he asked, "Do you want help?"

Nora looked at him.

Her first instinct was visible.

No.

I could see it form before she said anything.

Then she stopped herself.

"Yes."

Daniel waited.

Nora pointed toward the empty chair beside her.

"Just sit here."

He moved over and sat.

He didn't touch her.

Didn't tell her to breathe.

Didn't ask if she was sure.

He just sat beside her.

Nora's breathing slowed.

Kern checked the clock.

Anya checked her pulse again.

I stayed against the wall.

There wasn't anything for me to do.

That was fine.

After several minutes, Nora rolled her shoulders.

"Three."

Anya nodded.

"Better."

Nora looked at Kern.

"Can I try one more?"

Daniel's head turned.

He didn't say anything.

Kern asked, "What kind?"

"Easy."

"Specific."

"One scent. Low chime."

Kern looked at Anya.

She gave a short nod.

"One round. Four again and we're done."

Nora looked at Daniel.

He asked, "Do you want me to stay here?"

She thought about it.

"Yeah."

So he stayed.

Kern reset the exercise.

One container.

One low chime.

Nora held the partial Shift.

"Basil."

The chime sounded.

She flinched slightly.

Waited.

"Three."

Kern watched her for another few seconds.

"Stable?"

Nora checked herself before answering.

"Stable."

"Then we're done."

She didn't protest.

That might have been the most surprising part.

Anya made her final medical notes.

Kern picked up the pilot sheet.

Under KELLER SESSION, he wrote four short lines.

one variable at a time

report before escalation

medical / training override

family asks before assisting

No grand solution.

Nothing permanent.

Just four things that had worked better today than what they'd done two days ago.

Nora stood and stretched.

Daniel stood with her.

"I lied last time," Nora said suddenly.

He looked at her.

"I know."

She narrowed her eyes.

Daniel caught himself.

"I mean... yes. You did."

Nora almost smiled.

"I won't do it again."

Daniel rubbed the back of his neck.

"I'll try not to decide what your answer means before you've finished giving it."

"Try?"

"I'm not promising miracles."

This time Nora did smile, barely.

"Fine."

She walked toward the bench where she'd left her bag.

Daniel followed.

His hand started toward the strap.

Stopped.

He looked at Nora.

"Do you want help?"

She looked from him to the bag.

Then back at him.

"Yeah."

Daniel picked it up.

This time, he didn't hand it back.

He slung the bag over his own shoulder.

Nora opened the door.

They walked out side by side.