His claws scraped stone. “When circumstances permit.”
He felt her frustration flare through the bond—sharp and hot, quickly suppressed. But she said nothing. Only watched him go with those clear blue eyes that saw too much.
The council session proved every suspicion he’d harbored.
Vask sat at the far end of the obsidian table, his dark gray fur shot through with white along his muzzle. The scars on his shoulders caught the pale crystal light—proof he’d earned his position through violence, not politics. Beside him, Xar’s yellow eyes gleamed with barely concealed hunger. The religious faction had found their angle, and they meant to press it.
“The human presence at the ceremony drew considerable attention,” Vask said, his voice carrying like poison in water. “Perhaps more than intended.”
“The purification was successful.” Sylas kept his tone flat. “The core is stable. The grid has twelve functioning nodes it didn’t have before. What attention it drew is irrelevant beside those facts.”
“Is it?” Vask leaned forward, scars pulling at his muzzle. “Whispers travel, my king. They say the Alpha King’s pet has capabilities beyond simple...companionship. That she can touch the Moon Tears in ways our kind cannot.”
Maps glowed on the obsidian surface—territorial boundaries, grid node locations, Fallen breach reports—but no one looked at them. Every eye in the chamber was fixed on Sylas. Waiting. Measuring.
He could feel their calculations like claws testing his defenses.
“She has value.” Sylas measured each word like a blade. “Value I intend to use for the realm’s benefit.”
“And for your own?” The question slid through the chamber, smooth and surgical. “Forgive me, my king, but there are those who wonder if the human represents leverage—or compromise.”
Compromise.
Ryxin shifted at Sylas’s right, a low rumble building in his chest. His brother’s cyan eyes had gone hard, ready to answer the insult with violence.
Sylas rose slowly, deliberately, using every inch of his height. “My position is not subject to council approval. The female is mine. What I do with her is my concern. Anyone who wishes to challenge that is welcome to try.”
Silence settled like ash.
Several of the younger lords shifted in their seats—unconscious submission responses. Vask was older. Wiser. He didn’t flinch, but his ears flattened.
“Of course, my king. We speak only from concern for the throne.”
Concern.Another word that meant something different in their mouths.
The session ground on through reports and demands and the endless political maneuvering that came with rule. Sylas endured it, his attention split between the council’s machinations and the steady pulse of Elsa’s presence in his chambers.
He’d increased the patrols that morning. Tighter oversight on the under-routes. A subtle redistribution of his most trusted Sabers to positions where they could observe the areas she might explore.
All while pretending he was giving her room.
She’d said nothing about the restrictions. But he’d felt her frustration through the bond—banked coals waiting for a spark. Every time a guard passed her door. Every time she moved toward the corridor and felt the subtle pressure of being watched. She was too smart not to notice the pattern. Too stubborn to accept it gracefully.
And yet she’d stayed in the chambers. Complied with his unspoken command.
That should have pleased him. Instead, it made him wonder what she was planning. What advantage she saw in playing docile while her mind worked behind those clear blue eyes.
She’s adapting,he realized.Learning the rules so she can break them later.
The thought should have concerned him. It didn’t. It only made him want her more.
When the council finally adjourned, Sylas found himself walking the long way back to his quarters. Past the grid monitoring station, where technicians tracked the endless pulse of Moon Tear power through the fortress’s veins. Past the training yards, where young warriors sparred under the critical eyes of their commanders. Past the corridor that led toward the infirmary wing, where two human females waited for their next opportunity to see his mate.
He was mapping his own territory. Reminding himself where the threats lurked. Where the weaknesses waited to be exploited.
The bond pulled at him with every step, drawing him toward Elsa like a tide toward shore. He could feel her restlessness. Her mind working through problems he couldn’t see. The determination that had been building since she’d walked out of that infirmary suite with something in her eyes he hadn’t put there.
She’s planning something.