"Sometimes, giving someone what they wanted was the first step toward taking everything from them."
— Murasaki Sumi
022.
They landed hard, the air snapping back into place around them, and Seyra stumbled, catching herself against something cold and solid.
She looked around. They were no longer in the grand hall. The noise, the candlelight, the hundreds of staring eyes—all of it was gone, replaced by the quiet hum of the wind and the distant glow of the moon.
They were on a balcony somewhere high above the palace, the night air cold against her skin.
Orin stood a few feet away, his back to her, his shoulders rigid.
Seyra’s heart pounded so loudly she was sure he could hear it. She braced herself, waiting for him to turn around and end whatever this was.
Instead, he remained silent for a long moment.
"Do you have any idea," he finally said, his voice low, "what you just did?"
"I spoke the truth," Seyra answered, though her voice wavered.
"You humiliated me in front of every Alpha and noble in the region." He turned to face her, and even through the mask, she could feel the weight of his stare pressing into her. "You questioned my rule. My justice. In front of people who are already looking for reasons to see me as weak."
"I wasn’t trying to humiliate you."
"Then what were you trying to do?"
Seyra’s hands curled into fists at her sides. "I was trying to get you to see that something is broken. That people like Mira, people like me, we don’t matter to anyone in that hall. Not to the nobles, not to the Alphas, and clearly not to you either, until it’s convenient."
Orin went still.
"You think I don’t see what happens in my own palace?" His voice had dropped even lower, dangerous now. "You think I don’t know exactly what Garrick and Roan did to her?"
Seyra’s breath caught. "Then why didn’t you do anything?"
"Because the moment I act without reason, the pack can see and understand, I become exactly what they already whisper about me." His hands clenched at his sides. "A monster who kills on a whim. I have spent years making sure they fear me enough to obey, not enough to rebel."
"So her death meant nothing to you because it was inconvenient for your reputation?"
"That is not what I said."
"It’s what you meant!" Seyra snapped before she could stop herself. "And you talk about a reason? There is a reason, Alpha Orin. Mira didn’t deserve to die, yet they killed her. We don’t deserve to be treated like animals, yet they do that to us. I will not become Lady Royal if I cannot protect those I care about. and if that power means stepping on and oppressing the weak, I will not take it."
Silence stretched between them.
Orin took a step closer, and Seyra forced herself not to back away this time.
Ashe growled the moment he caught her scent again. Orin’s fists clenched, and he grabbed her by the neck, pulling her face closer to his.
Seyra’s breath caught, her heart hammering in her chest. Her loud mouth would finally cause her death. Still, she had no regrets. If she died today, at least she had stood up to him and everyone who had made her feel weak and useless.
"No one in Harlow Hades," he began, his voice a low growl. "No one in all the region has ever opened their mouth to talk to me like this. You sure have some guts, Seyra Bruce."
"Do not say anything, Seyra," Red warned. "He will kill you."
Seyra didn’t listen. "Then it’s high time someone questioned things around here."
His grip on her neck tightened just a fraction. Enough to cause her pain, but not enough to kill her.
Seyra’s eyes watered. "Are you going to kill me because I said the truth, Alpha Orin?" Her voice trembled. "Are you really not going to look into what I have said?"
"Stop!" Ashe growled. "You’re going to kill her before we even find out what she is."
Orin let her go, and she fell to the ground, coughing and holding her neck.
Orin bent to her level and grabbed her chin. Her eyes watered from the force of it, but she didn’t look away.
Orin studied her for a long moment, his grip firm. "I recall you stood in front of everyone and asked if I had ever used my power for anyone but myself."
Seyra swallowed past the ache in her throat. "Have you?"
Something shifted behind the mask. She couldn’t see it, but she felt it, the same way she’d felt his aura the first day she walked into this palace.
He released her chin and straightened, looking down at her for a moment before he spoke again.
"We are going back to that hall," he said. "And you will accept the Lady Royal position."
Seyra’s head snapped up. "What?"
"If you want justice," Orin said, "take it yourself. I am placing that power directly in your hands."
He turned to leave, his cloak sweeping behind him.
"No."
He stopped.
Seyra scrambled to her feet, her legs still shaking. "I won’t."
Orin turned back slowly, and the air around them dropped several degrees. "You dare refuse me?"
"I’m not accepting the title," she replied, holding her ground even as every instinct screamed at her to kneel.
"Then what is it you want, Seyra Bruce?" His voice had gone dangerously calm. "Because it is clear you want something."
"I’ll let you know in due time," she answered. "But for now, I want Astrid to have the Lady Royal position."
Orin stared at her like she’d lost her mind. "You’re being emotional. This is grief talking, not sense."
"I know exactly what I’m doing," Seyra said, stepping closer despite her shaking legs. "Please. Trust me on this."
Ashe growled low, a sound that cursed through every of Orin’s veins.
Orin was quiet for a long time, his gaze fixed on her like he was trying to read something written beneath her skin.
"Three months," he finally muttered.
"What?"
"I will give you three months to decide what you actually want." He crossed his arms, the mask tilting slightly as he studied her. "In that time, Astrid will act as Lady Royal. You will continue serving in my chambers as you have been."
Seyra’s chest tightened. "And after three months?"
"You will make your choice." His voice hardened. "If I decide you are wasting my patience, I will deem you unworthy of whatever this was, and I will teach you a lesson you will not enjoy."
Seyra held his gaze, weighing the offer against everything it could cost her.
"Fine," she said. "I accept."
Orin nodded once, and before she could brace herself, the air shifted around them again, thick and heavy, pulling at her skin.
The balcony vanished.
The grand hall reappeared around them in a blink, candlelight and gold and hundreds of stunned faces turning toward the platform where they now stood.
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.
"She’s alive," someone whispered.
"The Alpha brought her back."
Seyra’s legs nearly buckled, but she forced herself to stay upright as Orin walked past her and returned to his throne, settling into it like nothing had happened at all.
Serene stood frozen near the platform, the crown still in her hands.
"Serene," Orin said, his voice carrying easily through the silent hall. "There has been a change."
Serene straightened immediately. "Alpha?"
"Astrid Bruce will take the title of Lady Royal." His tone left no room for argument. "Seyra Bruce has declined."
The hall exploded into whispers again, louder this time, confusion and disbelief rippling through every table.
"But she will be an acting Lady Royal for now," Orin continued. "After three months, I will decide if she keeps the crown, or if Seyra Bruce will step up and take it."
Astrid’s head snapped up so fast her crown ornaments clattered against each other. For a moment, she just stared, like she couldn’t trust what she’d heard.
Serene recovered quickly, bowing before turning to address the crowd.
"By the will of the Alpha," she announced, "and before the Moon Goddess, I now name Astrid Bruce as the Lady Royal of Harlow Hades."
The applause that followed was hesitant at first, uncertain, before it built into something that resembled celebration.
Astrid stepped forward on shaking legs, and Serene placed the crown gently on her head.
It should have been her moment of triumph.
Instead, Astrid’s face remained tight, her eyes darting toward Seyra more than once as the crowd cheered around her.
The celebration resumed in full, musicians striking up a tune near the back of the hall, servers rushing back out with trays of wine, guests raising their glasses to toast the new Lady Royal.
Seyra stood off to the side, watching it all unfold with a strange, hollow feeling settling in her chest.
She had gotten what she wanted. She just didn’t know yet if this was a good decision, or a bad one.
Whatever it was, she would face it head on,
Astrid approached her sometime later, weaving through the crowd with practiced grace, her crown catching the candlelight with every step.
She stopped in front of Seyra, her smile sweet and poisonous all at once.
"I don’t know what game you’re playing," Astrid said quietly, just loud enough for only Seyra to hear, "but I will find out. And when I do, I will make sure you regret ever thinking you could hand me something and take it back whenever you please."
Seyra met her eyes without flinching.
"Watch your own back, Astrid," she said simply. "Being Lady Royal doesn’t make you untouchable. It just makes you easier to find."
Astrid’s smile faltered, just slightly, before she turned and disappeared back into the crowd, her crimson gown trailing behind her like a warning.
Seyra let out a slow breath, her shoulders finally loosening.
She felt eyes on her and turned to find Orin watching her from the throne, his gaze steady even behind the mask.
Seyra bowed her head slightly, a small, deliberate gesture.
Orin’s head dipped in return, barely noticeable to anyone else in the hall.
But Seyra saw it.
And for reasons she didn’t fully understand, something about that single nod settled the storm raging inside her chest.
She let out a sigh. "I can do this. I have to do this."