“Yes, and if she hadn’t made a deal with them—if she hadn’t given her word—I’d be on the other side of this argument with her. And after she’s fulfilled her half of the deal, I will be on her side, if she still wants to leave. But until then, I can’t support any attempt to weaken the authority of the council I’m a member of, when it’s acting in good faith and in the best interest of the community it serves.”

“And if it weren’t acting in the best interest of that community?”

“Then I would go to bat for the community. But that’s not what we’re talking about here, Titus. You have to bring her back so she can finish her training. What she decides to do after that is up to her.”

“Is it really? Because she overheard your council arguing over whose son gets first dibs on her. And she said you were in on it.”

“Damn it. That’s not…” Faythe’s words trailed off with a huff of frustration. “Yes, they were discussing the possibilities. They each want to be a grandfather, and most of them are old-school. But I wasn’t advocating marrying her off. I was pointing out that if she doesn’t like any of their sons, the whole discussion is pointless. No one will make Robyn do anything she doesn’t want to do. You have my personal guarantee on that.”

“Mine too,” Marc said, his voice fainter, because he was farther from the phone. “Robyn can see—or not see—anyone she wants. But…”

His hesitation set off alarms in my head. “But what?”

“But she needs to wait to make any …romantic decision,” Faythe finished for him. “Until after she’s finished her training and is officially on her own.”

“And is the council willing to commit to a timeframe for that?” Not that I had the authority to negotiate on Robyn’s behalf…

“It’s kind of a self-paced program, Titus. The deeper her commitment, the faster it will go. And the council thinks she should concentrate on her own mental and emotional health until she’s learned to control herself in both forms.”

Those alarms coalesced into a full-fledged siren. “What are you saying? She’s not allowed to date? That’s not your decision to make.” Why did I suddenly sound so defensive? “Don’t you think that making positive connections might help her gain control over the wilder side of her instincts?”

For a moment, I heard nothing but road noise over the phone, and I had no doubt they were mouthing things silently to each other as Marc drove.

“She killed people, Titus,” Faythe finally said. “She couldn’t help but kill people. This is in her best interest, but it’s also in yours.”

“Mine? You think Robyn and I—”

“I meant ‘you’ in the plural sense,” she clarified. “This is in the public’s best interest, so to speak.”

But that wasn’t entirely true. That much was clear in the newly tense tone of her voice. “Why don’t you say whatever you’re dancing around, Faythe?”

She exhaled slowly. “The council has asked me to make sure you understand how vulnerable Robyn is at this point in her acclimation. She’s still having flashbacks and nightmares, and they’re afraid she might misunderstand any overture of friendship on your part. That she might…form an attachment. And that you might let her.”

“You think I’m taking advantage of her?” I demanded.

“No. I don’t,” Faythe insisted. “I know you better than that. But I also know that things happen without planning, especially when the people involved are vulnerable or in pain.” The sincerity in her voice sounded visceral and very personal. As if she were reading a page from her own history. “Mistakes are made, and they can’t be taken back.”

And suddenly I understood. She’s talking about Jace. About their affair, years ago, before she’d married Marc.

Yet she was also talking about Robyn and me. Did that make me the potential mistake Robyn would one day regret?

“Okay, look,” Marc said. “This isn’t personal. We have to make sure you understand your position here, since Jace and Abby left her alone in your territory. Her safety is entirely in your hands. You’re an authority figure. You can’t sleep with her. No matter what.”

“You’re questioning my ethics and taking charge of a decision that belongs to Robyn.” My voice had become a growl. My temper was a storm surge battering the walls of a weakened dam.

“Titus…” Faythe groaned. And that’s when I realized how my protest sounded.

“I’m not arguing. I’m saying that this entire phone call is an insult. The council has no right to question my behavior and no right to tell Robyn who she can’t…be with.”

“You’re right. That’s not our place. And I promise I wouldn’t be asking, regardless of what the council wants, if I didn’t think this was in her best interest,” Faythe said. “You’re her Alpha, at least for the time being. Do the right thing. Guard her while she’s with you, both physically and psychologically.”

“Robyn’s well-being is foremost in my mind,” I assured them through clenched teeth. “And you have my word that I have no plans to seduce her. But I won’t tolerate having my judgment questioned again. Is that understood?”

“Perfectly,” Faythe said, while Marc grunted over the line. “Thank you, Titus.”

I echoed Marc’s grunt. Then I hung up the phone.

“How is he?” Robyn said from halfway up the stairs, and for a second, I thought she’d heard Faythe ask me not to abuse my authority as an Alpha by sleeping with her. As if I would ever abuse my authority. During that second, I found myself in a rare moment of speechlessness, unsure how to cover my own humiliation.

Acknowledge the awkwardness and joke it off?

Ignore the whole thing?

But then Robyn jogged down the rest of the stairs with her gaze glued to Corey Morris, who still lay panting on the floor, and I saw no sign that she’d overheard. “Lunch. From Knox.” She dropped a brown paper bag on the table in front of me, and I could already smell the sandwich inside. “When did he shift?” she asked as she crossed the concrete toward the open cell at the end of the basement.

“Just now.”