Page 23 of Ethan
Maurice shifted too, silent as he handed me a shirt. “You done showboating now?”
I didn’t answer, because I was. We made it back to the cabin in silence. Griffin shifted and said nothing, but the disappointment rolled off him in waves.
I hated it, but I earned it. I sat on the edge of the porch, wrapping my arms around my sore ribs. The mountain wind cooled my skin, and I stared out at the trees without really seeing them.
Eventually, Griffin said, “We don’t fight for ego here. We fight smart.”
I didn’t respond. He sighed and stepped inside to grab water.
Maurice came to sit beside me, arms crossed, his silence heavy but not judgmental.
“You’ve got fight in you,” Maurice said finally. “No question.”
I snorted, low and bitter. “Didn’t help much.”
“Not today,” Maurice agreed. “But you’ll learn. If you let yourself.”
I stared down at my hands. My knuckles were scraped, and my palms were raw. “I just wanted to prove I belonged,” I muttered.
Maurice turned his head to look at me, eyes sharp but not unkind. “Then stop trying to do it alone.”
I didn’t have an answer to that. Couldn’t find the words. But the sting in my chest told me he had a point. The screen door creaked open behind us.
Griffin stepped out onto the porch, arms folded, shoulders taut with leftover adrenaline. He leaned against the post and looked down at me.
“I told you to wait,” Griffin said.
“I had them,” I muttered.
“No,” he said, flat and certain. “You didn’t.”
My jaw tightened, the shame sinking deeper. “In Thornebane, you don’t wait around when there’s a threat. You take it out first. Fast. Or you end up bleeding out on your own,” I explained.
Griffin didn’t flinch. “You’re not in Thornebane anymore,” Griffin pointed out.
I looked away, out at the trees. The breeze stirred the leaves, and somewhere deeper in the forest, a bird called. I felt like that bird. Alone and loud and completely out of place.
“In Pecan Pines,” Griffin continued, “we protect first. That’s the rule. If there’s an attack, the first priority isn’t retaliation. It’s protection. You get the vulnerable out of the way. You cover your team. You work as a unit.”
I scoffed. “And what, just let the enemy run free?”
“You trust that your pack’s got your back. That we handle the threat together.” Griffin’s voice sharpened. “You were reckless today. You left us behind. You could’ve gotten yourself killed. Or worse, dragged us into a trap trying to save your ass.”
That last part stung worse than the claw marks on my side. “I was trying to help,” I grumbled.
“You were trying to prove something,” Griffin corrected. “And you almost made things worse.”
My hands curled into fists. “That’s not how I was taught. In Thornebane?—”
“I don’t care how they did it in Thornebane.” Griffin’s voice cracked like a whip, and Maurice shifted beside me, silent but listening. “I get that things were hard there. I know it wasn’t fair. But you’re not there anymore. Stop dragging their rules into our house.”
Silence settled over us. Not angry silence. Just real, and it settled into my bones like truth. I sat with it, breathing heavy, chest tight.
I hadn’t realized how deeply Thornebane had wired me. How instinctual it had become to lash out first, to act before someone else could act against you. Fight first, ask questions later.
You didn’t think about who might be watching. You didn’t consider who could be caught in the crossfire. You survived. But now wasn’t just trying to survive. I was trying to belong.
Maybe that meant more than just being strong. Maybe it meant learning how to be part of something. Maurice clapped a heavy hand on my shoulder.
