CHAPTER 33: GOODBYE

"What is the meaning of this, Alpha Soier?"

Prince Zen’s voice cut through the air, cold and unyielding, filling the hall with a tense silence. He kept his tone level, but the weight behind each word was impossible to miss. His gaze moved slowly from the Alpha of the Moonville Pack to the young woman kneeling at his side. Neither of them spoke. Both the man and the girl trembled under his stare, but Zen did not care enough to wonder if it was from fear or something else.

He did not bother to hide his irritation. Too many times already, these people had taken his smile and his easy charm to mean he was soft. They believed they could twist the goodwill of the Stormhold princes for their own gain. Today, he had no patience for such delusions.

His mind was entirely on the fact that they were almost ready to leave, and the Little Fire had not yet come to ask them for their help. If they left and then she went into heat, what would happen? Why was she so defiant and stubborn.

"Your Highness," Alpha Soier said at last, choosing his words carefully though his voice betrayed his unease. "I mean no offense. My daughter only wishes to offer her thanks on her brother’s behalf. If not for Prince Kael, we would never have learned the truth about what happened to him. The road ahead for him is long, but at least now there is hope. We are grateful, truly. This is only a token of our sincerity."

Zen’s lips curved faintly, but there was no warmth in it. "A token of sincerity," he said, his voice calm but edged with steel. "A token is a gift, Alpha Soier. Something freely given. It is not a person. And certainly not your daughter." His eyes rested briefly on the girl before turning back to the Alpha. "It seems our stay here has given you ideas. You dare to hope that offering your daughter might tie you to the Stormhold Pack?"

The Alpha’s face paled as Zen’s words settled like a blade against his pride. He bowed his head in a hurry, his voice tumbling out as if the weight pressing down on him had grown too heavy.

"No, no, Your Highness," Alpha Soier said quickly. "We dare not covet something so far above us. Lyra only wishes to thank you, nothing more. And what we gift... it shows the measure of how much we value someone."

He glanced once at his daughter, then back at Zen, his head still bent low. "My Lyra is the most precious thing I have," he continued, each word carrying a strained eagerness. "It is because she is so precious that I can offer nothing else in return. This is why I can only gift her to you. She will be there for your service, Your Highness. To ease your burdens, to see to your needs. Whatever you command, she will obey."

His voice dropped lower, the words coming slower now, as if weighed down by both fear and determination. "And when the day comes that you tire of her, you can return her to the Moonville Pack. We will ask nothing, demand nothing. It is our honour to give, never to take back what you choose to keep."

Zen leaned back slightly, watching the Alpha with unreadable eyes. The man was still bowing, speaking as though the more words he offered, the more he could smooth over what had already been said. Zen let him talk. But his mind had already moved elsewhere.

A thought formed slowly, curling at the edges like smoke. If the Moonville Pack wished to offer a gift, why not ask for one worth taking?

His gaze shifted to the girl kneeling beside her father. She kept her head low, hands clasped, shoulders tense as though waiting for someone to pass judgment. Zen studied her for a long moment and felt nothing but distaste. She did not even kneel properly. Her back was stiff, her movements awkward, as if she had been told to kneel but had no understanding of what it meant to surrender.

His mind, without his willing it, brought forth another image—the little Omega.

The little fire always knelt so beautifully. Even when she sat in a pose of supplication, Zen could see it in her eyes, the way her mind was always working behind the stillness. Always plotting. Always defiant even when she bent her head. It amused him every single time. The contradiction made her shine in a way no one else could.

He looked again at the girl before him. Her eyes, when she dared to lift them, were large and round, trembling with either fear or hope. Empty eyes.

The little fire’s eyes had never been like that. Hers held a different kind of beauty—a little cunning, a little innocence, both weaving together into something far more dangerous. Far more tempting.

Yes. If he asked for her, it would be perfect.

"Would it not be wiser, Alpha Soier," Zen said at last, "to first ask the one receiving the gift what he truly desires? A gift, after all, should please the one who accepts it. Should it not? And yet here you are, bringing people before us as though simply calling it an offering would be enough."

"A real gift," Zen went on in a deceptively mild tone, "is chosen with care. It shows thought. It shows understanding. It speaks of respect for the one to whom it is given. But presenting someone at random, without so much as asking what the recipient values... that speaks of haste, Alpha Soier. Of arrogance, even."

"Your Highness! I dare not be arrogant in front of you. Since you do not want Lyra, you can..."

Zen smiled as the Alpha paused. Yes. Come on. He called inside his head, Come on, say it. Take anyone you want. Because the one I want is the one you’ve hidden. I’ll take her.

Just as Zen was about to open his mouth and ask for the Omega, a hand on his shoulder stopped him.