Page 8 of Ethan
He had taken power fast, overthrowing Cooper’s father and turning the pack upside down.
Overnight, our home felt more like a prison. Fear ran everything, and anyone who resisted paid the price.
I remembered how it felt to be a kid back then. The constant knot in my stomach, the way the adults whispered behind closed doors, always glancing over their shoulders.
When I first started showing signs of being a healer, Colton and Griffin had shielded me from notice.
Griffin, just a scrawny kid himself back then, had stood in front of me when another pack member’s suspicious gaze lingered too long, his fists clenched and his stance rigid.
Colton warned me later, “Never let anyone see unless you trust them. You hear me?” His eyes, so serious for someone so young, had burned that lesson into me.
It was different now. Cooper’s leadership had brought a stability I didn’t even know was possible.
He’d rebuilt the pack, not just physically but emotionally, too. There was no longer a shadow looming over every conversation, no more constant fear of stepping out of line.
I wasn’t about to let anything—or anyone—jeopardize that. Especially not a wolf from Thornebane.
Dean’s voice broke through my thoughts. “Aren’t you being a little rough with me?”
I didn’t look at him. My hands moved automatically, tightening the bandage around his ribs with just enough pressure to hold but not enough to cause more pain.
“It’s a healer’s job to make sure the patient receives proper care,” I replied, my voice clipped.
I could feel his eyes on me, watching intently. It made my skin prickle with an awareness I didn’t want to acknowledge.
My fingers stilled for a moment before I forced myself to move again, tucking the end of the bandage securely.
“Done,” I said, stepping back and still avoiding his gaze. The sooner I could put some space between us, the better.
The door swung open, and Cooper strode in. His jaw was set, his movements precise and deliberate as he stopped at the foot of Dean’s bed.
His gaze flicked briefly to me, then settled on Dean.
“Dean,” Cooper began, his voice measured. “Given the incident earlier, I don’t think this arrangement is going to work. You’re free to return to Thornebane.”
Dean tensed, and it looked like the words had hit him like a physical blow. He tried to sit up, his hand clutching his bandaged ribs as he winced.
“Wait, please,” he said, his voice tight with desperation. “Please, just… just give me another chance. I can prove myself.”
“You’ve already proven you can’t control yourself,” Cooper said firmly. “This pack has no place for rash behavior.”
Dean shook his head, breath coming faster. “It won’t happen again, I swear. I just—” He broke off, curling his hand into the sheets as he struggled for words. “I need this.”
I watched him, hands hovering near his shoulder as he tried again to push himself upright.
“You need to calm down,” I said sharply, pressing his shoulder back against the bed.
He resisted for a moment, then slumped under my touch, movements strained and jerky.
“I can do better,” Dean continued, voice cracking. “I will do better. Please. Just one more chance.”
His eyes, wide and pleading, darted to Cooper, who remained impassive.
Cooper didn’t respond right away. His gaze bore into Dean, scrutinizing every word, every gesture.
For a moment, I thought he’d double down and send Dean packing. Then his expression shifted, softening just enough to let a flicker of leniency show through.
“Fine,” Cooper said at last. “One more chance. But if there’s even a hint of trouble, you’re out. No arguments, no second appeals.”
