The moon had not yet risen, but shadows already stretched long across the pack house as evening approached. The air felt heavy with anticipation, thick with the emotions running through every wolf preparing for Hailey's shift that night. Inside the Alpha and Luna's private sitting room, tension hung like smoke.
Della stood near the fireplace, staring into the flames like they held all her fears. Her fingers twisted the fabric of her sleeve, her wolf pacing anxiously beneath her skin.
Liam watched her from the doorway for a moment before stepping inside and closing the door behind him. He knew her moods better than anyone. And this one—this frantic, aching fear—was the one that hurt him most.
"Della," Liam said softly, coming to her side.
She didn't look at him. "I can't stop thinking about her. About what might happen tonight."
He touched her arm gently. "She will be fine."
Della let out a breath that sounded like a broken laugh. "You say that like it's easy. Like you believe it completely."
Liam turned her toward him, resting his hands on her shoulders. "I do believe it."
Her eyes finally lifted to his—filled with love, but also a fear so real it made his chest tighten. "She's innocent, Liam. Too innocent. She sees the good in everyone. She trusts too quickly. What if her mate doesn't deserve her? What if the world hurts her? She's… she's fragile."
Liam shook his head slowly. "No. She is innocent, yes. But don't mistake that for fragility." He paused, his voice deepening. "Hailey is not weak, Della."
Della blinked, confused. "She's gentle—"
"Gentle," Liam said, "is not the same as weak."
He guided her to the couch, sitting beside her, keeping one of her hands in his. "Do you remember when she was seven? When that rogue wolf pup wandered into our borders, half-starved and shaking?"
Della nodded slowly. "She brought him food from the kitchen. She nearly cried because he looked cold."
"She walked up to him without fear," Liam said. "No hesitation. And she didn't stop to think that he might bite her, or react unpredictably. She saw someone hurting, and she helped."
"Liam, she was a child—"
"Yes," he agreed, "and even as a child, she showed more courage than I've seen in grown warriors."
Della opened her mouth to protest, but Liam squeezed her hand.
"She understood something that most wolves don't until much later," he continued. "She understood that courage is not always loud. It's not always violence or strength or dominance." His eyes softened. "Sometimes courage is choosing kindness in a world that doesn't always deserve it."
Della looked down, chewing her lip. Liam lifted her chin gently.
"When Claire was chased by that rogue near the river," he said, "who ran for help the fastest?"
"Hailey," Della whispered.
"And who held your hand that entire night, even though she was terrified herself?"
"Hailey," she said again, voice shaking.
Liam nodded. "She handles fear better than we think."
He shifted closer, brushing a thumb across Della's cheek. "Hailey may be soft-spoken, but she faces difficulties in her way. Quietly. Steadily. She never complains. She never gives up. She deals with the world with a heart so open it scares us—but that openness doesn't mean she can't handle pain."
A tear slipped down Della's cheek. "I just want to protect her."
"I know," Liam murmured. "But our daughter… she's already stronger than either of us in ways we don't always see."
Della swallowed. "How?"
"Think about everything she's lived through," Liam said. "She grew up in the shadow of one of the strongest heirs the pack has ever seen—Claire, the prodigy. She grew up with Jason, a warrior born. And yet she never tried to compete. She never tried to be something she wasn't."
Della's eyes softened. Liam continued.
"She accepted her own pace. Her own way. And she didn't let being different make her bitter or insecure. That takes strength, Della. More strength than all the training in the world."
Della leaned her head against his shoulder. "I worry because she still seems so… untouched by the darkness of this world."
"And that," Liam said quietly, "is proof that she's strong."
Della blinked up at him.
"Most wolves lose that innocence early," Liam explained. "They see violence, betrayal, greed, ambition—things that stain a person's soul. But Hailey… even after everything she's seen, she still wakes up believing in goodness."
"That's what scares me," Della whispered. "What if the world takes that from her?"
Liam cupped her face gently. "If Hailey ever loses her innocence, it won't be because she broke. It will be because she grew. And she will still be Hailey—strong in her own way."
Della closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. "You think she'll be able to handle her mate? Even if he's… difficult?"
"I think," Liam said with confidence, "that whoever the Moon Goddess gives her will not only be chosen for her, but by the strength she carries inside her. A strength she may not flaunt, but one that guides everything she does."
Della looked at him with hope beginning to break through the fear. "You really believe she's strong enough?"
Liam smiled softly. "Our daughter could face the storms of the world and still choose to see sunlight. That kind of spirit… that kind of heart… is the strongest thing I've ever known."
A tear slipped down Della's cheek again, but this time it was from relief, not fear. Liam pulled her into his arms.
"We raised a girl who loves deeply," he murmured. "And she will be loved deeply in return. She will not be broken, Della. She will not be lost. She will handle whatever comes tonight."
Della wrapped her arms around him, finally breathing easier.
"Maybe," she whispered, "she's stronger than we ever realized."
Liam kissed her forehead. "She is."
And as the moon began to rise—bright and full—they both finally understood:
Their innocent daughter was not fragile.
She was unshakeable.
In the gentlest, bravest way possible.