"The support beam here is rotted through," he said, running his hands along the porch's foundation. "And these floorboards need to be replaced entirely. When's the last time anyone did maintenance on this place?"
"Probably not since Vera died," Lyra admitted, trying not to notice the way his flannel shirt stretched across his shoulders when he bent to examine the foundation. "I don't think she was much for home repair."
"No, she was more of a 'fix it with magic and hope for the best' type," Cade said dryly. "I replaced her kitchen sink three times in five years."
"You knew my grandmother?"
"Everyone knew Vera. She was..." Cade paused, clearly searching for diplomatic phrasing. "Memorable."
"That's one word for it." Lyra settled on the porch steps, content to watch him work. There was something hypnotic about the way he moved—economical and precise, without any wasted motion. "What was she really like? I only knew her when I was little, and then she cut us off."
Cade straightened, wiping his hands on a rag. "Brilliant. Stubborn. Absolutely ruthless when it came to protecting this town." He paused. "And scared, I think. Especially toward the end."
"Scared of what?"
"Of not being strong enough to hold the seal. Of dying and leaving it unprotected." Cade's green eyes met hers. "Of what would happen if someone unprepared inherited her responsibilities."
The words hit harder than they should have. "Someone like me, you mean."
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to." Lyra picked at a splinter in the porch railing. "Everyone keeps talking about how important this founder stuff is, but nobody seems to think I'm capable of handling it."
"That's not true."
"Isn't it? The council wants to put magical restrictions on me. You think I need constant supervision. Even Nico talks to me like I'm a child playing with grown-up magic."
Cade paused, silence stretching between them, then moved to sit beside her on the steps. "Can I tell you something?"
"Depends on whether it's going to make me feel worse about myself."
"When I became alpha, I was twenty-seven years old and absolutely terrified," Cade said, his voice matter-of-fact. "My father died in a car accident, and suddenly I was responsible for the safety and well-being of forty-three pack members. I had no training, no preparation, and no idea what I was doing."
Lyra looked at him sideways. "What happened?"
"I screwed up. A lot. Made decisions based on fear instead of wisdom. Nearly got two pack members killed because I was too proud to ask for help." Cade's hands clenched into fists. "It took me three years to figure out that being strong enough to lead didn't mean being strong enough to do everything alone."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because power isn't about being perfect from day one. It's about being willing to learn, to adapt, to do whatever it takes toprotect the people who depend on you." Cade turned to look at her directly. "Your magic chose you, Lyra. Not because you were prepared, but because you were capable."
Something warm unfurled in Lyra's chest at the unwavering belief in his voice. "You really believe that?"
"I wouldn't be here if I didn't."
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, until Lyra realized she was staring at the way afternoon sunlight caught the gold flecks in his green eyes. She cleared her throat and stood up quickly. "Right. Well. These floorboards aren't going to replace themselves."
"Actually, they might," Cade said, his tone lighter now. "I've seen some impressive household magic in this town."
"Please. I can barely make toast without setting off smoke alarms."
"That's just a matter of practice." Cade stood as well, and Lyra tried not to notice how close he was standing. "Magic responds to confidence as much as technique."
"Easy for you to say. You probably came out of the womb knowing how to control your wolf."
"Not even close." Cade's smile was rueful. "First time I shifted, I got stuck halfway for three hours. Had to have the pack healer come detangle me from my own transformation."
The mental image was so ridiculous that Lyra burst out laughing. "Seriously?"
