“She won’t be a distraction.” His voice carried conviction he wasn’t sure he felt. “She’ll be useful. Prove herself worth keeping.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
The question hung unanswered.
Because Sylas didn’t have an answer. Couldn’t afford to consider what happened if Elsa proved worthless beyond her scent. If the core they needed was destroyed or lost. If Vask’s veiled threats became open challenges.
Too many variables. Too many ways this could collapse into chaos.
But that’s what being Alpha King meant. Juggling catastrophes while maintaining the illusion of control.
“Prepare the retrieval team.” Sylas dismissed the doubts, buried them where they couldn’t show weakness. “We leave at dawn. Full combat readiness—the Fallen won’t ignore an opportunity to attack.” He paused. “And send word to my chambers. The human comes with us.”
Ryxin’s ears flattened. “You’re certain?”
“No.” Honesty, because his brother deserved that much. “But Vask is right about one thing. I need to prove she’s more than a pretty distraction. The council needs to see her value. The rivals need to see I’m not weak for keeping her.”
“And what does Elsa need to see?”
The question caught him off guard. Sylas turned, meeting his brother’s knowing gaze.
What did she need to see? That he was in control? That she was safe under his protection? That her defiance would eventually break against the reality of her situation?
Or something else entirely?
“She needs to see her life has purpose beyond warming my bed.” The words came out rougher than intended. “That I kept her alive for reasons beyond her scent.”
Even if that scent was the primary reason. Even if everything else was justification wrapped around the simple truth that Lux had marked her as his and he couldn’t let her go.
The Lux Priest stood slowly, his joints creaking. “Then may Lux guide your steps, my king. May she protect what she’s blessed and grant wisdom where pride might cloud judgment.”
He left without waiting for response, white fur disappearing through the doorway like snow melting into shadow.
Ryxin remained, studying Sylas with that unnerving ability to see through political masks to the male beneath.
“She’s gotten under your skin already.” Not accusation. Just observation.
“She carries Lux’s scent.” Sylas deflected. “Of course she’s significant.”
“That’s not what I said.”
No. It wasn’t.
But admitting the truth—that Elsa’s defiance intrigued him, that her sharp mind and sharper tongue made him want to keep her talking just to see what she’d say next, that the thought of her in danger made his beast rage in ways that had nothing to do with political strategy—would be weakness.
Would be exactly what Vask and the others waited for.
“Secure the team.” Sylas moved toward the door, ending the conversation. “And have the Lux Sabers prepare my pet for travel. She’ll need proper gear if she’s going to survive the cold.”
“And if she refuses to go?”
Sylas smiled, all teeth and dark promise. “Then she’ll learn that refusal isn’t an option. Not anymore.”
He left his brother in the war chamber, surrounded by holographic warnings and the weight of impossible decisions.
Tomorrow, he’d take Elsa to the wreck site. To the Holy Ruins where her vessel had crashed, where the Moon Tear core waited, where Lux’s will would become clear—one way or another.
Tomorrow, he’d prove to the council that his pet was an asset.