“And the humans?” Vask’s question hung in the air like a blade. “The prisoners you’ve…kept?”
The emphasis on that last word made Sylas’s hackles rise. He forced them down through sheer will, maintaining the appearance of calm while his beast snarled warnings beneath his skin.
“Two are working off their debt. The males are in the pits.” He met Vask’s gaze without flinching. “The situation is handled.”
“Is it?” Vask stood slowly, his height impressive even among Yzefrxyl. “Word has spread through the fortress, my king. You’ve claimed one of the humans as your…pet.”
Murmurs rippled around the table. Some approving—Ryxin had set that precedent, after all. Others disapproving, their scents sharpening with judgment.
Sylas remained perfectly still. “I have.”
“While our people suffer from Fallen attacks and grid failures, while our Luna’s nest sits empty, you concern yourself with a human female.” Vask’s tone stayed respectful, but his words cut deep. “Some might question your priorities.”
“Some might find themselves in the pits questioning their loyalty.” Sylas let the threat simmer. “Do you have somethingto say, Vask? Or are you simply voicing concerns you’ve heard whispered in corners?”
The older male’s lips pulled back slightly. Not quite a snarl. Not quite submission. “I voice what many think but fear to speak. You need a Luna. A true mate to rule beside you, bear your heirs, strengthen your claim to the throne.” He gestured dismissively. “Instead, you take a pet. A distraction. A symbol of—”
“Superiority.” Sylas’s voice dropped to a growl that vibrated through the stone beneath their feet. “My pet is a symbol of my superiority over the weak species that dared trespass on our sacred ground. A reminder that I can claim anything—anyone—that enters my territory.”
He pushed away from the table, circling toward Vask with deliberate menace. His Lux Knights tensed but didn’t move. Ryxin’s hand drifted toward the blade at his hip.
“The IPA thinks they can dictate terms to us. Grant immunity to incompetent humans who desecrate our Holy Land.” Sylas stopped directly in front of Vask, close enough that the other male had to tilt his head back to maintain eye contact. “By keeping her, I remind them that their treaties mean nothing here. That I answer to Lux alone, not their bureaucratic posturing.”
Vask held his ground. Brave. Stupid. “A political statement, then. Not a genuine claim.”
“Both.” Sylas’s muzzle pulled back, flashing teeth. “She carries the scent of Frosted Tears. Lux has marked her for me. Who am I to refuse the Great Snow Beast’s blessing?”
That stopped the murmurs cold.
The Lux Priest straightened, his white fur bristling with sudden attention. “Frosted Tears? You’re certain?”
“Unmistakable.” Sylas turned from Vask, addressing the room. “The scent that only blooms during the warm monthswhen the Mother Moon graces us. The sign of Lux’s favor.” He let that settle, watching comprehension dawn across their faces. “Tell me again how keeping her is a distraction.”
The priest’s ears flattened in what might have been reverence. Or fear. “If Lux has marked her—”
“Then she’s mine by divine right as much as territorial law.” Sylas reclaimed his position at the table’s head. “Any who challenge that challenge Lux herself.”
Silence. Heavy and absolute.
Ryxin’s expression shifted to something between impressed and concerned. He understood the game Sylas played—turning a potential weakness into unassailable strength by invoking their goddess. Brilliant strategy. Also incredibly risky if Lux didn’t actually approve.
But Sylas felt the truth of it in his bones. That scent wasn’t random. Wasn’t coincidence. Elsa had crashed into the Holy Land carrying Lux’s blessing whether she knew it or not.
The goddess had sent him a gift. He’d be a fool to refuse it.
Vask settled back into his seat, jaw tight with frustration. “Even if Lux approves, a human cannot be Luna. Cannot rule beside you or bear heirs that strengthen your bloodline.” His gaze swept the council. “The next Blood Moon approaches. Challengers will come. They always do. What message does it send when our Alpha King pampers a pet instead of claiming a proper mate?”
“It sends the message that I do as I please.” Sylas’s voice carried absolute authority. “That I bow to no pressure, no tradition, no expectation except Lux’s will and my own judgment.” He leaned forward, claws scraping against obsidian. “Any male strong enough to challenge me during the Blood Moon is welcome to try. As my father’s challengers tried. As the three before them tried.”
He smiled, cold and predatory. “We all know how that ended.”
Torvak cleared his throat, drawing attention. “The retrieval operation. When does it begin?”
Good. Someone with sense to redirect before this devolved into posturing and threats.
“Tomorrow at first light.” Sylas straightened. “I’ll lead it personally.”
Ryxin’s head snapped toward him. “You?”