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The door opened with quiet precision, and he stepped in like he already owned the room.

His presence filled the room without effort, calm and controlled in a way that immediately put her on edge again.

“Elowen,” he greeted, his tone polite, almost formal.

She straightened slightly where she stood near the center of the room, her emotions still raw but tucked just beneath the surface now. “Zevrian.”

There was a brief pause between them, measured and deliberate. Then she gestured toward the small seating area tucked near the window. “You can sit.”

Her voice wasn’t warm, but it wasn’t hostile either. Just… careful.

Zevrian glanced at the chairs but didn’t move toward them. “I prefer to stand.”

Of course you do, she thought, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes. Everything about him screamed control—even the way he chose to exist in a room.

“Then say what you came to say,” she replied, folding her arms slightly.

He studied her for a moment, like he was assessing how much she could handle. Then he spoke.

“I came with a proposal.”

Elowen’s brows pulled together faintly. “A proposal?”

“Yes.”

“What kind of proposal?”

Zevrian didn’t hesitate. “The kind that determines whether your life here becomes manageable… or unbearable.”

Her stomach tightened, but she kept her face neutral. “You could just say it plainly.”

“I intend to,” he said.

There was no buildup, no attempt to soften the blow.

“The reason you’re here,” he continued, his voice even, “is not for decoration. You were brought here to serve a purpose tied to our bloodline. I won’t insult you by pretending otherwise.”

Elowen’s jaw clenched slightly.

“You will be required,” he went on, “to participate in practices that may not align with your morals, your comfort, or your expectations. That is not up for negotiation.”

Her pulse picked up.

“And if I refuse?” she asked, her voice sharper now.

Zevrian met her gaze without flinching. “Then you will be removed from this house.”

‘Removed?’

He took a step closer, just enough to close some of the distance between them.

“And I assure you,” he added quietly, “the wolves out there will not hesitate. You won’t last long enough to regret the decision.”

The image hit her hard, whether she wanted it to or not. Her chest tightened, but she forced herself to push past it.

“What exactly are you saying?” she demanded. “What am I supposed to do?”

Zevrian held her gaze, unblinking. “According to tradition,” he said, “you are to form a bond with each of the alpha brothers.”

Elowen blinked once, her mind trying to process that.

“And after each bond,” he continued, “you will be required to mate with them.”

Mate.

The words landed like a blow.

For a second, she just stared at him. Then she let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “You’re joking.”

He didn’t respond.

Her expression hardened. “You’re serious.”

“Yes.”

Her stomach turned violently. “So what—you want to turn me into some kind of… what? A shared toy?” Her voice rose despite her effort to control it. “A whore?”

Zevrian didn’t react to the title. “It continues until conception.”

Elowen’s breath caught. “…What?”

“Until you conceive,” he repeated.

Her hands dropped to her sides, fingers curling tightly. “You mean—get pregnant?”

“Yes.”

“With one of you?”

“Yes.”

A wave of panic surged through her, sharp and suffocating. “You expect me to carry a child for this?” she demanded. “For this—whatever twisted competition you’ve turned this into?”

Zevrian’s expression didn’t change. “The moment you conceive, the process ends. You become Luna, and the father of the child ascends as Alpha Supreme.”

Elowen shook her head, stepping back slightly. “So that’s it? That’s what I am? A prize?” Her voice cracked with anger now. “Something to pass around until one of you wins?”

“In simple terms,” Zevrian said, “yes.”

She stared at him like she might lunge at him. “I’m not doing that,” she said, her voice low but firm. “I will not give my body to any of you. Not like that. I’d rather you kill me.”

“Calm down,” he said.

That did it.

“Calm down?” she snapped, stepping forward now. “If you were in my position, would you be calm?”

For the first time, something flickered in his expression. Not anger—something more like acknowledgment.

“No,” he admitted. “I wouldn’t.”

That answer caught her off guard just enough to pause her momentum.

Zevrian watched her carefully, then continued, his tone shifting slightly. “Which is why I’m offering you an alternative.”

Elowen stilled. “What kind of alternative?” she asked cautiously.

“When you meet the elders tonight,” he said, “you will be given the opportunity to make a decision.”

She frowned. “What decision?”

“There is a loophole,” he explained. “You don’t have to go through the full process.”

Her heart skipped.

“…Explain.”

“You can choose one of us,” Zevrian said. “Immediately. That choice binds the outcome without requiring you to… entertain all five options.”

Elowen stared at him. “You’re saying I can skip all of that?” she asked slowly.

“Yes.”

“And just pick one?”

“Yes.”

Her mind raced. That sounded too easy.

Too convenient.

“How do I choose?” she asked.

Zevrian didn’t hesitate. “You choose me.”

Silence filled the room.

Elowen blinked. “I’m sorry—what?”

“You choose me,” he repeated calmly. “That is the decision you make.”

Her brows furrowed, suspicion rising quickly. “And why would I do that?”

“Because I am the most suitable candidate for the throne.”

“That’s your opinion.”

“It’s a fact.”

She let out a small, incredulous laugh. “Convince me.”

Zevrian’s gaze sharpened slightly. “Draven sees everything as a competition. He is driven by jealousy and the need to prove himself. That makes him unstable.”

Elowen didn’t argue.

“Sorrian,” he continued, “is unreliable. Indulgent. He lacks discipline and is easily distracted by his own impulses. He is a man whore.”

She scoffed faintly. “That’s putting it lightly.”

“And Ellion,” Zevrian finished, “lacks the authority required to lead. He hesitates. He doubts. Those are not qualities a ruler can afford.”

Elowen tilted her head slightly. “And Kaelen?”

Zevrian’s expression didn’t change, but his tone shifted slightly. “Kaelen isn’t even a consideration.”

Her stomach tightened.

“He is volatile,” Zevrian continued. “Unpredictable. He holds too much resentment—especially toward humans. He will never accept you. And if forced…” he paused slightly, then finished plainly, “he would kill you. And the child.”

She swallowed, her chest tightening. “What makes you better?” she asked quietly.

Zevrian stepped a little closer, not enough to intimidate—but enough to make his presence felt.

“I am already leading,” he said. “I understand control. Balance. Responsibility. I can keep this family in order.”

His voice softened just slightly. “And I can keep you alive.”

That hung between them.

Elowen looked away, her thoughts spinning.

This was insane.

All of it.

But within the madness… this was a way out.

A shortcut.

A chance to avoid being dragged through something she didn’t think she could survive.

Zevrian wasn’t kind. But he was has control.

And right now, that might be the safest option she had.

She exhaled slowly. “…Fine,” she said.

Zevrian’s gaze sharpened slightly. “Fine?”

“I’ll do it,” she clarified. “I’ll choose you.”

A flicker of satisfaction passed through his expression, gone almost instantly.

“But,” she added quickly, lifting her chin, “I have a condition.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Name it.”

Elowen held his gaze, steady now. “I had a friend,” she said. “At the Manor. Lysara.”

Zevrian didn’t interrupt.

“We were separated when you kidnapped me,” Elowen continued. “I don’t know where she is. I don’t know what happened to her.”

Her voice tightened slightly, but she pushed through it. “I want you to find her,” she said. “And bring her here.”

Zevrian was quiet for a moment.

“And when she gets here,” Elowen added firmly, “she is treated fairly. No abuse. No punishment. She stays with me.”

Zevrian studied her long enough that it made her wonder if she had pushed too far.

Then he nodded once. “Done.”

Just like that.

No argument.

No hesitation.

He turned toward the door.

And walked out.

Leaving her standing there, the weight of what she had just agreed to settling slowly, heavily, into her chest.