"She's still shaking."

"Perhaps the hot cup of tea will help her?"

"Not if she won't drink it, Conrad."

"Commander, let's not overwhelm her. I'll be back in a few minutes and we can try again."

The back door shut behind him, and Reece appeared before eyes, obstructing my view of the clean white wall of the kitchen. She was frowning with worry as I refused to respond to her questions.

I was trembling more than a newborn penguin taking its first steps in the bitter cold.

Memories of my grandmother were flashing in my head– her comforting smile, her squeaky laugh, her joy in the littlest things. She was the type of person who felt guilty for stepping on ants, or even flowers if she was not able to see them in time.

The close bond we shared when we lived together had disintegrated slowly once she left me under the care of Uncle Amos. It was difficult to keep in touch with her when she was too busy trekking around the world.

But that didn't mean I stopped caring.

I was grateful that she took me under her wing when my parents passed away and that she was generous enough to purchase my very first wand for me when she saw I was ready to unleash my supernatural side.

It was just beyond my realm of understanding as to how such a woman ended up on a wall meant to warn future criminals of the price they would have to pay for any atrocities they commit.

The part that hurt the most though?

I was the last living Beaumont. The only remaining member of my family had been killed, and I did not have a clue.

"The wall must come down," I muttered almost inaudibly, forcing Reece to lean closer so she could get a grasp on what I was trying to say.

"Sorry, could you repeat that?" She asked.

"The wall must come down," I recited, turning my head to look at her as I raised my voice another octave, "If I'm going to stay with Alrik, that wall will not stand any longer."

Her lips parted in understanding, and she sat down on the barstool beside me, taking my quivering fingers in hers, "I don't know what you saw, but I have a feeling you will try to confront Alrik about it."

She waited a moment to see if I would confirm her thoughts, but I stayed silent.

"If you do so," she started, lowering her pitch, "Approach the subject carefully. Alrik will hear you out once, but not a second time. You only have one shot to convince him."

Just as she said that, the back door swung open and Alrik stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind him as he frowned at our pointed stares, "Why are both of you staring at me like that?

Reece stood and patted my back comfortingly before leaving the kitchen to give us a bit of privacy. Alrik pulled his gloves off slowly and eyed my shivering form with a somewhat concerned look on his face.

He walked over to my side and placed the back of his hand on my forehead, "Do you have a fever? Why are you shaking?"

"Alrik," I paused, licking my lips as I tried to form an explanation. He raised an eyebrow and watched me struggle to place my emotions in words, "Yes?"

A part of me didn't even want to look up at him. My perception of him had completely changed, and the sides of him that I had seen before seemed so unreal.

Was this the same man whose ears turned pink when he was embarrassed? How about the man who hugged me when he was stressed? Or the man that saved my life with his mark? Was he the same too?

All I knew was that Alpha Alrik was not my mate.

He was not the man I started to fall for.

It was the person he hid inside of him that I liked more and more every day– the one that threw playful jabs at me, cuddled with me to keep me warm, and respected my needs and personal space and thoughts as a leader.

That was the Alrik I had gotten to know so well.

So now the question remained, would I be able to evoke that side of him enough to change the ways of Alpha Alrik?

"Alrik," I began again confidently, turning so I could see his eyes, "I saw the rogue wall today."

He pursed his lips, "I know it's unconventional, but it does–"

"My grandmother's head is on that wall, Alrik."

His eyes widened a fraction before he furrowed his eyebrows, "Your grandmother? I thought she was alive."

"I thought so too. You didn't know?"

"No, I had no idea," he said quietly, pinching the area between his eyebrows, "The rogue wall is under Reece's supervision. My pack warriors take care of the rogues, and unless there are special circumstances, their heads are nailed to the wall almost immediately after. I receive the files on their background after it's all done."

"Does that mean you have a file on why she was killed?"

"I believe so. I'll check right now," he said, walking past me to most likely go to his office.

Before I confronted him about the absurdity of the wall and the punishments, I needed to know why my grandmother was killed. My mind would not rest until I found out the reason, and after he told me, I would try to change his stance on the justice system in his pack.

While I waited for Alrik, there was a knock on the back door, and Beta Conrad peeked inside, most likely checking if the coast was clear. When he saw that it was, he tiptoed towards me and leaned across the island to whisper, "Nolan's sister's alright. She was transferred to the hospital until her mate comes back."

"Does Nolan know?"

"I told him on my way here. He was very pleased."

"Thank you, Beta Conrad."

He smiled softly and patted my hand, "I wish you luck on your discussion with Alpha Alrik."

Then he left, leaving me to my whirlwind of thoughts.

"So it seems," I jumped in surprise as Alrik appeared by my side with a manila folder in his hands, "Your grandmother was part of a group that pup trafficked."

"Pup trafficked?" I asked incredulously, "You mean like child trafficking?"

"It's similar," he nodded, "The way it worked was they would somehow kidnap pups and sell them to small, lesser-known packs so they could build up their brigades."

"And my grandmother did this?" I asked with wide eyes.

It was a horrifying prospect, and if my grandmother was involved, then she deserved to be disciplined for her actions. Although her head on the wall might have been extreme, I could not exactly criticize her death because if someone had tried to kidnap and sell my child, I would have killed them too.

"I know this seems unbelievable, but your grandmother kidnapped three pups that had been playing by the border and managed to kill one of them when they fought back. My pack warriors showed up and killed her in retaliation."

I rubbed my face tiredly, "I don't blame your warriors."

He nodded, placing the folder on the island, "I don't either. They let her off easy. I would have taken her to the dungeon with all the molesters and rapists and tortured her alongside them."

"The dungeon? You mean there are more punishing grounds?" I asked, slightly mortified.

He shrugged, "It's for the crimes that are worthy of death."

I bit my lip nervously, "I met a boy today. He was being whipped for stealing medicine that his sister needed."

"Well, at least he paid for his crime instead of trying to run. Then, he would have ended up in the pillories," Alrik said nonchalantly, pouring himself a glass of water.

"Alrik, I don't understand. He didn't do it with selfish intentions. Why is he being punished so harshly?"

Alrik narrowed his eyes, "He stole. That is against pack law. If he was smart, he would have dragged his sister to the hospital instead."

"It was a mistake. He probably wasn't thinking straight since he was so worried about her. I don't see why he couldn't be let off with a fine or a warning," I said softly.

He shook his head, "There are no fines or warnings here. If people are let off with a warning, they would see it as a chance to try to mess around again."

"You don't trust your pack members to not make the same mistake twice?"

"I do, but this is just better reassurance. Once they are penalized the first time, they know the second time is the dungeon so they wouldn't dare try to cross the pack law again."

My approach wasn't working at all. Alrik had clearly had the time to work out all his arguments.

"Suppose I needed medicine and the pharmacy was the only place to get it, would you steal it for me?"

"I'm not stupid like that boy," he tried pointing out, but when he saw my blank stare, he sighed, "But if I did steal, I would pay for my crime. No one is above pack law."

"How does pack law work?"

"It's an arrangement of laws that describe the penalties for every felony possible. It's set in stone so there is no way to go around it. Not that I would want to, I was the one who wrote it," he mumbled near the end.

"But don't you feel your pack's pain when they're being punished? I know you all share a bond."

"Not really. I mean, I do feel sorry for them, but they shouldn't have broken the law in the first place. The laws are supposed to encourage smart thinking, and if you don't think smart, then..." he trailed off with an ominous tone, allowing me to fill in the blank myself.

"Alrik, I feel like you rule your pack with an iron fist."

"Yes, I do. How else do you think we're so successful? It's because I don't excuse laziness and stupidity."

"But your pack members are afraid of you. Do you realize that these sanctions could be causing severe psychological damage? Anxiety, depression, PTSD, and who knows what else. They live om in trepidation instead of living in peace."

"There's nothing to worry about if they don't do anything wrong."

"But Alrik, this is their home. They shouldn't feel scared in their own homes."

"I know what you're trying to do right now, and I want it to stop," he said, his face hardening as I continued to debate with him, "You've been here for less than a day. You have no right to tell me I need to change the way I lead my pack when I've been successfully ruling them for more than a century. I don't see anyone else complaining, just you."

No one complains because you're a hardass, and they would probably be in trouble for speaking against the Alpha.

"Look, I'm not saying being strict is a bad thing, but the way you're treating your pack is absolutely barbaric and unnecessary. I'm surprised you don't have a guillotine in the corner. You need to trust that your pack will follow your rules and orders without the threat of public humiliation and some severe physical abuse dangling above their heads."

He shook his head and kicked a barstool aside, "I'm done with this conversation. There's nothing wrong with what I do, and if there was, don't you think karma would have bit my ass by now? It has been over a century, and my pack has been continuously rising to the top. Werewolves are finally prospering after being the underdogs for so long. You're just too softhearted to understand my ways right now, but I hope you'll learn when you become my Luna."

I watched him storm outside angrily to shift and calm himself down.

"Well, that went well," I muttered, running my hands through my hair and down my neck to where my mark was. I traced the indents with my fingers and heaved a sigh.

The mark on my neck was not just a symbol of Alrik's dedication to me. It was a symbol of my dedication to him and his pack.

Alrik was thinking of the bigger picture, how werewolves were prospering, but he didn't see how his pack fell to the pits of Tartarus every time one of their own was punished. If his Beta and Commander were so distraught over this, I couldn't even imagine how the rest of his pack felt. They were living in hell and couldn't even escape.

And I needed to change that.

Alrik might sympathize with them on occasion, but he definitely didn't empathize. If he did, this wouldn't be happening.

He needed to feel their pain, their inner torment.

My fingers pressed against the mark.

And I believed I knew just how to do that.