The air in La Push was thick with tension even before the sounds of the fight became clear. It wasn’t visible yet, but Sam felt it first in his stomach, like a sharp tug within the bond: raw anger, wounded pride, impulses that shouldn’t have strayed so far from the pack. And then the noise came. Thuds, heavy footsteps, wood creaking near the tribe’s homes.

Sam was already moving.

He didn’t run at first. He walked fast, steady, cutting through the space between the trees and the buildings as if each step were gauging the damage before he saw it.

When he reached the clearing, chaos was already there. Two wolf-like forms clashing violently too close to the tribe’s people, too close to what must not be broken.

“Enough!” His voice cut through the air with an authority that didn’t need to be shouted twice.

The bond responded immediately with resistance, a clash of wills that tightened his jaw. He stepped forward, never taking his eyes off either of them, feeling the weight of being Alpha assert itself even over the fury that wasn’t his but also coursed through him.

It wasn’t just a fight; it was disorder, a loss of control, and that couldn’t exist here.

“Now” he murmured, softer but more dangerous, as if calm were worse than anger.

The bond snapped a moment later, obedience coming late but coming nonetheless. Sam exhaled through his nose, his body still tense, as the wolves backed away, the tension still vibrating in the air. His eyes scanned the area once more, making sure there was no major damage, that the houses remained intact, that no one had crossed that line that must not be crossed.

“This won’t happen here again” he thought, not as a threat, but as a decision already made.