Page 4 of Bite for Sore Eyes

Rath's green eyes flashed as he looked up from the scattered papers. "Maybe if I stared harder, our security systems would stop failing at random."

"Or maybe if you actually ate breakfast instead of rearranging fruit on your plate, you'd have enough energy to think clearly about solutions." Torren bit into the stolen bread with obvious satisfaction, his relaxed posture a deliberate contrast to Rath's rigid tension.

The familiar banter should have eased some of Rath's frustration. Instead, it only highlighted how different their approaches had become to this crisis. Where Rath saw immediate threats requiring constant vigilance, Torren maintained his usual calm patience. The balance that had served them so well as leaders felt increasingly fragile when faced with problems they couldn't solve through strength or strategy.

"Jace ran diagnostics again last night. Ever since he's taken over day-to-day infrastructure operations two months ago, he's barely slept," Rath said, tapping one of the reports with more force than necessary. "But everything checks out perfectly. So how does a door decide to throw itself open every thirty seconds for two hours?"

"It eventually stopped. And Jace consulted Vaughn this morning, and Vaughn didn't seem too alarmed about it. He said intermittent system failures happen from time to time," Torren said, his tone projecting a confidence that normally settled Rath down instantly.

But Rath was a man accustomed to finding answers, and this situation had provided none. "Then what's causing the failures?"

"Maybe they're not failures at all. Maybe they're symptoms of something else entirely."

Rath's bear rumbled its disagreement with that assessment. Symptoms implied underlying illness, problems that couldn't be fought directly or controlled through superior planning. His entire approach to leadership centered on anticipating threats and neutralizing them before they could endanger his people. Random, inexplicable system malfunctions represented exactly the kind of unpredictable chaos his protective instincts rebelled against.

"Symptoms of what?" he demanded.

"I don't know. But getting yourself worked up about it isn't going to solve anything faster." Torren's tone remained maddeningly reasonable. "Let Jace do his job. He'll figure it out."

"While our defenses crumble around us?"

"While our defenses experience minor glitches that haven't actually compromised anyone's safety."

The distinction felt meaningless to Rath. Minor glitches had a way of becoming major catastrophes if left unaddressed. His parents had died in what everyone called a tragic accident, but Rath had spent years wondering if better preparation might have prevented their loss. He refused to let preventable problems escalate into genuine threats on his watch.

"And Elder Garrick thinks he has a solution to our current instability," Torren continued, his casual tone not quite masking the irritation beneath it.

"Let me guess. Ancient wisdom and traditional values?"

"Mates." Torren's expression shifted to annoyance. "He believes if we both take mates, it will provide hope and stability during these uncertain times and show the sleuth that their leaders are committed to building a future despite the growing tension."

Rath's laugh held no humor. "Because nothing says 'focused leadership' like dividing our attention between security crises and romance."

"Exactly what I told him. But apparently, our bachelorhood has become a symbol of our failure to fully embrace our roles as Alphas." Torren's voice took on the formal cadence he used when quoting council members. "'Unmated leaders cannot provide the emotional anchor their people need during times of upheaval.'"

"Emotional anchor." Rath repeated the phrase with obvious disdain. "We've kept this territory safe and prosperous for fifteen years. We've prevented three separate territorial disputes from escalating into warfare. Our people enjoy the highest standard of living on Nova Aurora. But I guess none of that matters because we don't have mates to parade at formal dinners."

The frustration in his voice carried deeper currents than simple irritation with council politics. Every suggestion that their leadership needed supplementation, every implication that their current approach fell short of expectations, echoed the doubts that had haunted him since that first council meeting fifteen years ago.

You are not enough.

The words had never been spoken directly, but Rath had heard them clearly in their decision to appoint a co-alpha.

"We don't have time for mates," Rath said, his deep voice carrying the finality of absolute conviction. "Not with our security systems failing and half the council questioning whether dual leadership was ever a good idea. The last thing we need is another distraction."

Torren nodded his agreement. "Though I have to admit, the idea of telling Garrick that we're too busy protecting everyone to actually live our own lives does sound a bit ridiculous when you say it out loud."

"You know how this works. Our lives are dedicated to keeping our people safe. Everything else can wait."

The words came easily, reinforced by fifteen years of practice. Duty first. Personal happiness later. It was the philosophy that had guided every major decision, and he saw no reason to change it now.

Even if some traitorous part of his heart occasionally wondered what he might be missing.

Rath pushed back from the table, the chair scraping against the terrace's polished surface as he prepared to stand. His bear rumbled for action rather than endless analysis of problems that refused to make sense. Perhaps a hike would clear his head before⁠—

The sharp trill of his communicator cut through the morning air.

He paused with one hand braced against the table's edge. The device rarely rang unless someone needed his immediate attention, and given the morning's list of system failures, he suspected either Jace had discovered another inexplicable malfunction or Elder Garrick had decided to press the mate issue with renewed vigor.