Chapter 6

Atlas's POV

I was in my office, focused on reviewing the income and expenditure reports for the pack over the past week.

The numbers had to be precise, and I took pride in managing every detail that kept our pack thriving.

Suddenly, a mind link interrupted my thoughts.

“Alpha, Alpha Logan and his beta are here to see you,” One of the border guards reported.

“Tell them to come to my office,” I replied, feeling a flicker of curiosity.

Alpha Logan was the head of Oakwood Pack—and Akira’s father.

His arrival was unexpected, and it puzzled me that he hadn’t informed me before crossing into our territory.

As I waited, I caught their scent growing stronger, signalling they were approaching my office.

Just as I was to greet them, the door swung open without a knock.

Alpha Logan strode in with his beta. I frowned.

The lack of respect in that simple act sparked irritation in me. I might be nineteen, but I was an alpha—a recognized one, respected and even feared by others.

I met his gaze, keeping my expression calm. “To what do I owe the surprise visit, Alpha Logan?” I asked, my voice steady and as polite as I could manage.

“I received information that you’ve been facing constant rogue attacks along your borders,” Alpha Logan said, his tone probing.

“Yes, but everything is under control,” I replied, keeping my voice steady. “My men have been doing a great job securing the borders.”

“That’s good to hear,” he said, nodding, “but I am concerned because my daughter lives here, and she’s soon going to be the Luna of this pack. So, naturally, it’s my priority to look out for you.”

His words stirred memories of our past agreement when I was desperate

My pack had been weakened after I lost my parents in battle, and the timing was cruel. With so many of our warriors lost, rogues and enemies saw their chance, striking at us when we were most vulnerable.

Desperate for help, I called on Alpha Logan, hoping to ally with his pack. But he had one condition—that his daughter, Akira, would become the Luna of my pack.

I had never wanted to agree.

But my grandmother, seeing the danger we faced, had urged me to accept his terms for the pack’s survival.

Now, at nineteen, I felt the weight of that choice—a decision made in desperation when I was only seventeen, one that haunted me more with each passing day.

Alpha Logan’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “I also want to know when the marriage ceremony will take place,” he said, his tone expectant. “Akira is already eighteen, and it’s the right age for her to take her place as Luna.”

With a deep breath, I decided to ask the question that had been weighing on my mind for far too long. “On that note, Alpha Logan, I know it’s on our agreement but I’ve still wondered… Why do you insist on making your daughter my Luna, rather than letting her find her true mate?”

I kept my tone respectful but firm, hoping he would finally explain the reasoning behind his push for this alliance.

The question had lingered in my thoughts ever since we struck that deal, and the uncertainty gnawed at me each time I looked at Akira.

“Having a mate binds one in weakness and vulnerability. I don’t want that for my daughter,” Alpha Logan stated, his tone unwavering. “Just look at what happened to your parents—your father died because of your mother, sacrificing himself to protect his mate. But I want my daughter to be strong, and that will make you stronger too.”

He spoke boldly as if his reasoning were sound and justified.

I took a steady breath, my gaze firm. “With all due respect, don’t speak about my parents that way,” I said, my voice unyielding.

Alpha Logan narrowed his eyes, holding my gaze as if testing my resolve. He wasn't used to being questioned, especially by someone younger. Yet, I couldn’t let him dismiss my parents' bond as a weakness.

“Your parents were powerful, but their devotion was their downfall. A true leader must rise above such attachments,” he said smoothly.

I clenched my jaw. “My father's love didn't make him weak. He was the strongest alpha, sacrificing himself for both his mate and his pack. That’s true leadership.”

Logan studied me, his expression unreadable. “And yet that love cost him everything. Love may seem like strength, but it can weaken a leader.”

I took a steadying breath, choosing my words carefully. “I respect you, Alpha Logan, but my parents’ love didn’t weaken them.”

“Compassion is admirable,” he replied coolly. “But strength rules. A mate bond clouds judgment, makes you act on instinct rather than logic.”

“Then perhaps you don’t understand the strength that comes from a true mate bond,” I said, meeting his gaze. “It’s not just about devotion—it’s about knowing you’re stronger together.”

His eyes darkened, and a slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, as though he found my response amusing. “Then let’s hope that your idealism doesn’t lead you down the same path as your father.” With that, he turned toward the door, casting a final glance over his shoulder. “Think about what I’ve said, Atlas.

A mate is not a necessity for a strong leader. Sometimes, a leader’s true strength is to walk alone.”

As he left, the office grew colder. His words echoed in my mind: I felt a nagging doubt. Was the feeling I had towards my mate a sign of strength or a downfall? And would it hurt her in the end?