On Restraint
When power must hesitate
One of the quieter challenges in writing The Golden Eyed Wolf was learning when not to use power.
Stories often reward strength with momentum. Something threatens. Power appears. The problem dissolves. It’s satisfying, and it’s deadly to tension.
For this book, power needed to exist without becoming a solution. It had to be present, visible, even frightening — and still unable to resolve what mattered most.
That meant restraint had to feel earned rather than imposed. Not because the rules said so, but because consequences waited downstream. Power could change the shape of a moment, but never without bending something else out of alignment.
Writing with that constraint required a different rhythm. Scenes had to carry weight before action arrived. Decisions had to matter more than ability. Often, the most important choice was not what John could do, but what he decided not to.
This was less about limiting the character than about preserving the story. Power that arrives too easily drains uncertainty. Power that hesitates invites it back in.
In the end, restraint became its own form of pressure — not absence, but containment.
As he approached, people stepped aside without being asked. When he reached their booth, he spoke politely, offering peace before turning to Lois.
He introduced himself as Marshall Storm and informed her she would be safer under his protection. Not waiting for consent, he gestured for her to come with him.
John stood and placed himself between them.
Storm sneer-hissed that it would be unwise to stand in his way. Not today, he added softly. There would be time later, somewhere private, away from prying eyes.
John wanted nothing more than to drive his fist into the man’s smug, shining face and did not.
He held his ground, rage leashed tight, and answered Storm with words instead.
If this moment stayed with you, the story continues.
Golden Eyed Wolf is the beginning of the Mortal Immortals series.
Read Book One on Amazon