Something worse.
The awareness crackled between them like the energy in the conduits below. She was trapped here, his prisoner, his property,his pet. He was the monster who’d claimed her, the king who could end her life with a word.
And yet.
When he looked at her like that—calculating and hungry and something else she couldn’t name—part of her didn’t want to run.
Part of her wanted to lean closer.
Dangerous, her mind whispered.This is dangerous.
But so was grabbing a Moon Tear core. So was demanding answers from an Alpha King. So was existing on this frozen planet where everything wanted to kill her.
At least this danger came wrapped in warmth.
Sylas’s claws traced a strand of her hair, lifting it to his nose the way he’d done in the throne room. The gesture should have been invasive. Claiming.
It felt like worship.
“You should fear me too.” His voice dropped to something almost soft. “Everyone else does.”
Elsa’s heart hammered against her ribs. “Maybe I will. Someday.”
“But not today?”
She thought about the way he’d carried her through the fortress. The careful way he’d fastened her boots. The truth he’d just offered, unvarnished and brutal and more honest than any captor had a right to be.
“Not today,” she confirmed.
His pupils dilated, and the sound that rumbled from his chest wasn’t quite a growl.
It was satisfaction.
And it terrified her more than any threat ever could.
11
Sylas
The observation alcove had grown too quiet.
Below, the engineers completed their final calibrations, their movements efficient and purposeful. The Lux Priest’s ritual chanting had faded to murmured prayers. The core pulsed steady and strong in its housing—the heartbeat of a civilization, finally stable.
And Sylas couldn’t focus on any of it.
Elsa swayed on her feet.
The motion was subtle—a slight shift of weight, a tightening of her grip on the stone railing. She probably didn’t even realize she was doing it. But he tracked every micro-movement of her body with predatory attention, cataloguing the signs of exhaustion she was too stubborn to acknowledge.
The shadows beneath her eyes had deepened since they’d left the medical bay. Her skin, already pale by human standards, had taken on a grayish cast that made his beast snarl with concern. She’d nearly died holding that core. Yarx had said her neural pathways needed time to recover.
Instead of resting, she’d demanded to watch the installation. Had stood here asking questions about Fallen and madness and things he never discussed with anyone.
Had looked at him without fear.
Foolish female.
“We’re leaving.” The words came out rougher than intended.