Chapter 7 #2
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?”
“The core is too valuable to trust to subordinates.” He met his brother’s gaze, seeing the concern there. “And the human wreck sits in the Holy Ruins. I won’t risk more desecration by sending a team that doesn’t understand what’s at stake.”
“Then take the human with you.” Vask’s words dropped like stones into still water.
Sylas’s ears swiveled toward him. “Explain.”
“She was their navigator, yes?” The older male’s expression shifted to something calculating. “She knows that vessel’s layout. Its systems. Where the core might be located.” He spread his hands. “Use the tool Lux provided. Let her earn her keep.”
Clever. Sylas hated how clever it was.
Taking Elsa to the wreck site would prove multiple things. That she was useful beyond her scent. That he could control her even outside the fortress. That he wasn’t so distracted by his pet that he’d forget practical applications.
It would also put her in danger. The ruins were unstable. The Fallen prowled nearby. Weather could turn deadly without warning.
His beast snarled at the thought of risking her. Of exposing his prize to threats he couldn’t fully control.
But his king’s mind saw the strategic value. Saw how it would silence critics like Vask who questioned his judgment.
“I’ll consider it.” Sylas kept his tone neutral, giving nothing away. “Dismissed. Ryxin, Lux Priest—remain.”
The council filed out, Vask last, his gaze lingering on Sylas with something that promised future challenges. The door closed behind them with a heavy thud that echoed through suddenly empty space.
Ryxin moved immediately to the windows, checking sight lines and approaches—old habits from too many assassination attempts. The Lux Priest settled onto a bench carved from volcanic stone, his age showing in the careful way he lowered himself.
“You’re really going to take her.” Ryxin didn’t phrase it as a question.
“Vask is right. She knows that vessel.” Sylas studied the holographic grid, watching red markers pulse like infected wounds. “If she can cut our excavation time by even half—”
“She’s untrained. Fragile. The ruins will kill her.” His brother’s voice carried frustration born of concern. “You’ve claimed her as valuable. Lux-blessed. Then you risk her life on a retrieval mission?”
“I risk her life on everything by keeping her here.” Sylas turned from the display.
“The fortress isn’t safe. Nowhere is safe.
The Fallen grow bolder. Rivals circle. The grid destabilizes.
” He gestured sharply. “At least at the wreck site, I control the variables. I’m there. You’re there. We protect what’s ours.”
The Lux Priest cleared his throat, drawing their attention. “The Frosted Tears scent. You truly believe Lux marked her?”
“I know she did.” Sylas’s certainty rang clear. “I’ve smelled those blooms my entire life. There’s no mistaking it.”
“Then bringing her to the Holy Ruins might be…appropriate.” The priest’s ears flicked thoughtfully. “If Lux guided her there once through the crash, perhaps she’s meant to return. To reclaim what the humans brought.”
“Or it’s a test.” Ryxin’s voice carried warning. “Lux testing whether you’ll value power over the blessing she sent.”
Sylas growled low in his chest. He hadn’t considered that angle. Typical of his brother to find the one interpretation that made everything more complicated.
“The core stabilizes the grid. Protects our people. Prevents more males from falling to madness.” He met the priest’s gaze. “How is that valuing power over blessing? They’re the same thing.”
“Are they?” The old male’s white fur seemed to glow in the pale light. “Power corrupts. The Moon Tears prove that daily. But blessing...” He trailed off, searching for words. “Blessing asks for faith. For trust that what Lux provides is enough.”
“What she provided is a human female who smells divine and a Moon Tear core of unprecedented purity.” Sylas’s patience frayed. “I’m taking both. Using both. Protecting both. That’s not corruption—that’s pragmatism.”
The priest dipped his head in acknowledgment.
“I merely counsel caution, my king. The next Blood Moon brings not just potential challengers but a lunar eclipse. Lux’s face hidden.
Her protection uncertain.” His amber eyes held steady.
“Males will see it as opportunity. As weakness in you. In our defenses.”
“Let them see what they want.” Sylas turned back to the grid display, watching those red markers pulse. “I’ll deal with challengers the same way I always have. With teeth and claws and the power Lux granted me to rule.”
“And if the human proves to be distraction rather than asset?” Ryxin asked quietly.
Sylas thought of Elsa refusing the wristband. Standing before him in that warm chamber, chin lifted, defiance burning in blue eyes. She hadn’t broken yet. Hadn’t surrendered.
She would. Eventually. They all did.
But part of him hoped she’d keep fighting just a little longer. Keep reminding him that strength came in forms beyond muscle and violence.
“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.
Tomorrow, he’d make sure she understood exactly what serving him meant.