"Let me help!"

"No."

"Let me help!"

"No."

"Judas!"

"Reed."

"Come on! It's my life we're talking about here, Jude," I protested from my spot on the uncomfortable couch that sat in his office while he worked on some files, or attempted to at the very least.

"All the more reason for me to say no. You're too close, Reed."

Too close? Of course, I'm too close!" I shot back, practically springing off the couch. "This is my life! My pack, my family. How am I supposed to just sit on the sidelines while everyone else decides what happens to me?"

Judas didn't even look up from his desk, his pen scratching against paper. His calmness only made my irritation spike further. "You sitting on the sidelines is exactly what's keeping you alive, Reed."

I scoffed. "That's dramatic, even for you."

"Is it?" he countered, finally glancing up. His piercing gaze pinned me in place. "Because the last time you ignored my orders, you almost didn't walk away. Or did you forget the fact that someone already tried to kill you?"

"That's exactly why I need to help!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands up. "If someone's targeting me, then I'm the one who needs to figure out why. Nobody else knows the details better than I do."

Judas set his pen down, leaning back in his chair. "And you think that makes you invincible? Reed, you're not thinking clearly. Whoever attacked you isn't going to stop just because you feel entitled to play detective."

"It's not about entitlement," I argued. "It's about knowing I can make a difference! You can't keep me in the dark and expect me to just be okay with it."

"I'm not keeping you in the dark," Judas said evenly. "I'm trying to keep you from becoming a corpse."

"I might as well just stand in the middle of the woods with my arms wide open and wait for whoever's trying to kill me to take another shot!" I snapped, pacing back and forth now. "At least then I wouldn't feel like a sitting duck."

Judas's expression darkened, his calm demeanor cracking just slightly. "You think this is just about you?" he said, his voice low and sharp. "Reed, if you get yourself killed, it's not just you who suffers. Your pack suffers. Your family suffers. And I—"

He stopped himself, pressing his lips together tightly like he'd said too much. He exhaled slowly and stood, his towering frame cutting an imposing figure against the dim light of the office.

"You don't see the bigger picture," he said, his voice steady but colder now. "You're too focused on your guilt and your need to prove something. But this isn't just about you, and it's not just your life at stake. You don't get to make reckless decisions because you're impatient."

"I'm not being reckless," I argued, though my voice faltered slightly. "I just... I can't do nothing. I'm going crazy here."

Sitting around meant living in fear of the assailant returning for round two. It meant watching everything I worked hard to get crumble between my fingers.

...it meant watching Dashiell get dragged through the mud more than he already had been.

Judas studied me for a moment before walking toward me. He took a seat on the couch beside me and his grey eyes met my dark brown.

"Have I ever let you down or left you hanging?"

I hesitated, the sharp retort I'd been ready to throw at him catching in my throat. Judas had a knack for disarming me like this—calm, steady, and infuriatingly reasonable when I was anything but.

"No," I admitted reluctantly, breaking eye contact to stare at the floor. "You haven't."

"Then trust me now," he said softly, his voice lacking its usual commanding edge. "I'm your cousin, man. You should know I'd do everything in my power, and beyond, to solve this as quickly as possible." He paused, giving me a look that felt both firm and reassuring. "But I can't do that if you're running around like a loose cannon, making things worse for yourself and everyone else. Trust me to handle this, Reed. Trust us to handle this."

I leaned back against the couch, feeling the tension drain from my shoulders even as the frustration lingered. "It's not that I don't trust you," I muttered. "I just hate feeling like I'm useless."

Judas sighed, his posture softening. "You're not useless. You're hurt, and you're vincible—no matter how much you want to act like you're not. Sometimes, the best thing you can do is step back and let the people around you do what they're good at. This isn't about proving yourself. It's about surviving."

I hated that he made sense. I hated that he was right. And more than anything, I hated that deep down, I did trust him. If anyone could figure this out, it was Judas.

But still...

"Okay," I said finally, the word dragging out of me like a reluctant confession. "But if there's anything I can do—anything—you'd better let me know."

He smirked faintly, a rare sign of approval. "Deal. But until then, stay out of trouble."

I rolled my eyes, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at my lips. "No promises."

Judas stood and returned to his desk, picking up his pen as though the whole conversation hadn't happened. But before he started writing, he looked at me one last time, his expression softening.

"We'll get through this, Reed. You'll see."

For the first time in what felt like forever, I believed him.

"I'll rely on you, but first you have to do something about the Dash situation," I told him. "The pack isn't just going after him anymore. They're going after his family and once they start questioning Josephine it'll just get worse. You know that."

Dash and I might not have been each other's biggest fans, but everything that happened was between him and me alone. I didn't want his family to be victims of this whole situation.

"I can get the pack to back off, but I can't change their opinions on him after they've already been spread. The only way to do that is to go to the source which is—"

"My parents," I sighed already knowing where he was heading.

Judas nodded grimly. "Your parents. They started this, Reed. Whether they intended it to blow up this much or not, they've set the tone for how the pack sees Dashiell. As long as they keep fanning the flames, it's going to get worse, not better."

I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling the headache that had been lurking all day start to pound in earnest. "Great. Because trying to reason with my parents always goes so well."

"They listen to you more than anyone else," Judas pointed out. "And you're their son. If anyone can make them understand the damage they're causing, it's you."

"Yeah, because they've been so understanding about everything else lately," I muttered, my tone dripping with sarcasm. "They're convinced Dashiell is the devil incarnate. They're not going to change their minds just because I ask nicely."

"No, they won't," Judas agreed, his voice steady and firm. "But if you don't at least try, then you're letting them control the narrative. If you want to protect Dashiell's family—and yourself—this is the first step. You don't have to convince them to like him, but you need to make them see that dragging his family into this is crossing the line. Besides, you were the one who took the first step over it in the beginning."

I crossed my arms and leaned back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling like the answer to all my problems might be hidden there. It wasn't that I disagreed with Judas. He was right—he usually was—but that didn't make the prospect of confronting my parents any less daunting.

"Did I really take the first step though?" I glanced at him. "Be real with me."

Judas met my gaze, his expression unflinching. "You did, Reed. Whether you want to admit it or not, the second you challenged him in front of everyone, you gave your parents the opening they needed to twist the situation. You set the stage—they just added the fire."

I groaned, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees. "Was challenging him really that bad? Our pack was quite literally founded on the idea that the strongest—"

"I know our pack's beliefs, Reed. I've grown up hearing them too, but you and I both know the challenge itself isn't the problem. It's everything that happened before that."

He didn't outright say it, but I knew what he was referring to and it only made me sigh frustratedly. "I didn't sleep with him or reject him to give me an upper hand in the challenge. You know me better than that."

"I never said you did," he responded. "I won't pretend to know your motives but whatever they may have been doesn't change anything that's already happened."

"I'll talk to my parents," I said finally, my voice low but firm. "But don't expect them to roll over and agree with me. They're stubborn as hell."

Judas smirked faintly, the closest thing to amusement I'd seen from him all day. "I wouldn't expect anything less from the people who raised you."

"Funny," I muttered, though a small smile tugged at my lips despite myself.

"And what about Dashiell?" Judas asked.

"I'll apologize again for this whole...mess."

"That's good and all, but you know that isn't what I'm talking about."

"He ruined my ceremony," I reminded, but that didn't make the pointed expression on Judas' face drop in the slightest. I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "One thing at a time, Jude. Let me survive my parents first, and then I'll figure out what to do about him."

He didn't press, just nodded in quiet understanding. "Fair enough. But don't take too long. The longer this drags out, the harder it'll be to fix."

"I know," I said, my voice heavy with resignation. "I'll handle it. Somehow."

Judas gave me a small, reassuring nod before returning his attention to his desk. As I watched him settle back into his work, I couldn't help but feel a flicker of gratitude. He was frustrating, infuriatingly logical, and always right when I didn't want him to be—but he was also the one person I knew I could always count on.

For now, that would have to be enough.

⚡︎

When people first met Cronan and me, their first comments were usually about how stubborn the two of us were. My response to that was they obviously hadn't met our parents because Mom and Dad were the most outwardly stubborn people I'd ever met. It was no secret where my brother and I learned the art of digging in our heels and refusing to budge.

Our parents had built their reputation on unwavering determination. Mom was the fierce protector, always putting the family's needs above everything else. Dad, on the other hand, was the enforcer, a man who lived and breathed discipline and tradition. Together, they were an unstoppable force—a united front that rarely compromised.

And now, I was about to walk straight into the lion's den.

It wasn't that I feared my parents but I knew how they could be. When they were passionate about something we could be arguing for hours, going around and around in circles. Cronan had always been the type to challenge them head-on and argue with them for days on end over trivial matters while I tried to avoid arguing with them as much as possible. It wasn't worth it in my book because if watching my brother and parents' daily fights told me anything, I'd likely only win one out of every hundred fights between them —and that was being generous.

Not to mention, after watching Cronan's countless battles with our parents, I'd grown to hate them. Dread them. Maybe...maybe even fear them a bit because I could never predict the consequences, but they were almost, if not always, terrible.

I wasn't surprised to find them in the living room when I arrived home. I knew them well enough to know they wouldn't leave until Dad was positive my home was safe enough to keep intruders out and, knowing him, that could range from a few days to a few weeks.

"Reed," Mom greeted me with a pat on my shoulder when she saw me.

"Hi Mom, hi Dad." I smiled. "Can we talk?"

That immediately caught both of their attention. They both perked up and stared at me.

"About what?" Dad raised an eyebrow.

"About Dashiell," I said and their expressions immediately hardened, confirming what I already knew: this was going to be a long talk.

Judas better be right about this too.