Bearclaw Valley who hears you crying?

Confrontation was never avoidable, this he should have learned long ago—and perhaps he had, only for it to be buried beneath his status and forgotten. Either way, he slowed to a stop as words were flung his way, ears pushing forward and eyes seeking her expression. A question became an accusation, a claim at which he stiffened; that she doubted him irritated the male, or maybe he was hurt by it and just couldn’t recognise the feeling. Whatever the case, he listened to what she had to say, no matter how bothered he was by it, until she paused.

“I do care about you guys,” he said bluntly, stating it as if it was obvious; that he allowed them to speak to him how they did showed, in his head, that they were important wolves in his life. If she couldn’t see that, then he didn’t know what else to do. “Why do you care if she’s my mate?” he asked. “That doesn’t affect you. And yeah, she’s leading beside me, but that’s because it’s how packs work. Mates lead together—it’s always like that, in every pack, even when other members aren’t okay with it.” That he was incredibly wrong did not dawn on him, nor was it likely to ever; growing up, he’d heard of how his parents had shared leading titles, and how that had not changed until they were no longer together. Then, with Blackfeather, it had been Meldresi and Burke leading together as mates—as far as he knew, it was an unspoken rule and he was simply abiding by it, rather than dishonour his home by letting someone that wasn’t his lead alongside him within it.

Surprisingly, the hurt did not go unnoticed, but he didn’t know what to do about it. He just listened, then said, “Laurel couldn’t be Alpha without being my mate, and she doesn’t want that.” So, even if he did deserve her, it wouldn’t matter—as far as he could tell, he and Laurel were friends, family even, but nothing romantic. The thought alone was a peculiar one, and he wondered to himself why it was even brought up. Didn’t Indra see that her sister had no interest in him? Was that the one thing he wasn’t blind to, but someone else was? That was a first—except it wasn’t, all things considered, but that was something he didn’t know.

Alexander’s gaze narrowed, but the glare lasted for only a second before disappearing. “You’ll listen to me, though,” he stated. “I can’t make you listen to her—or submit to her, I guess I should say—but you won’t hurt her, either.” Although, in an ideal world, each member of the pack would submit to both leaders, he wasn’t foolish enough to believe that he could enforce that; there was no way for him to remain at his wife’s side constantly in order to correct those that defied her, he just had to hope that, when he wasn’t around, the respect for his title would at least protect her from harm.