CHAPTER 65: HIS FIRST RULE

"I still saved you, though," Rion said, his tone smooth and lazy. "Even when you didn’t choose to stay with me. So I think I deserve some credit for that."

His smirk was subtle but smug, as though saving me had been something worth a lifetime of servitude.

As if I should worship him for it.

I wanted to tell him that he could have told me. That he could have spared me from the cruel surprise of discovering the Unified Alliance’s decree, that my execution had been demanded.

But I didn’t voice it.

Because that would have been too simple, and Rion Morrigan was anything but simple.

He didn’t like playing straightforward, it seemed. Didn’t like showing his hand.

And I knew, deep in my gut, that he probably relished the chaos that had followed me. The mess, the hunts, the blood spilled by rogue packs tearing one another apart. All of it had worked to his advantage. He had gotten exactly what he wanted without even lifting his blade.

Brilliant. Cunning. Calculating.

And I hated it.

I hated how sharp his mind was, how easily he could bend situations in his favor, how he seemed to twist survival into a game he’d already mastered.

I hated it because it made me fear

him.

Because it meant one day, without realizing, I could end up as nothing more than a pawn in his shadowed game.

My fingers dug into the stone rail beneath me, the chill of it running down my back. I would not give him that power over me.

"I don’t care about that now," I said. "I don’t care whatever you want to do with the Celestial Wolf, or how you expect me to cooperate. But if you want anything from me, then you’ll have to agree to my conditions."

The gleam in his crimson eyes sharpened with interest, like a predator catching the scent of challenge. "Conditions?"

"Yes."

His stance became more relaxed, tilting his head as though inviting me to continue. "Go on, then."

"First, you must guarantee my comfort and safety here."

"Reasonable," he said smoothly, though the flicker of his smirk made it clear he found something funny about it. I just wasn’t sure which part.

"Second," I pressed, "you can only command me to do things I am comfortable with—"

"Oh, I’m sure you have a very long list of things you’re not comfortable with," he cut in, his voice dripping with mockery. "Why don’t we make things simple and get clear on that right now?"

My jaw tightened. "You cannot harm me in any way, and you cannot force me to harm another. I can stomach everything but not that."

"Of course you won’t be harmed," he said, tone almost reassuring. Almost.

But the way his blood-red gaze lingered on me, unblinking, sent unease slithering down my spine.

Still, I forced myself to continue. "Third—"

"There’s a third?" He arched a brow, feigning surprise, though the glint of amusement never left his eyes. His lips curled as though he were thoroughly entertained.

I glowered at him, refusing to let him derail me.

"Yes. Third and last," I said, my voice steady despite the thunder in my chest.

He folded his arms, watching me with an expression that was half a dare, half curiosity.

"Once I have fulfilled what is expected of me, whether your plan is a success or not... you will free me."

"Hmm. A fair bargain." Rion’s voice rumbled low, almost thoughtful, though the curve of his lips betrayed how much he was enjoying this little exchange.

"Then let’s make the blood bargain," I said with finality.

"Are you sure about this?" Leika asked.

"Yes."

"There’s no other way to survive, it seems."

"Why," Rion’s voice was a little too mischieveous for my comfort, "do you think it is easier for me to make a bargain with you to secure your compliance?" He took a step closer. His presence swelled, pressing against my skin until I almost flinched.

"Wouldn’t it be far more convenient," he leaned forward slightly, voice dripping with dark promise, "for me to simply force you to do my bidding?"

The air thickened between us, heavy, suffocating. My throat burned with the effort not to look away.

And then—I smiled.

Not the kind of smile that softened. Not one born of amusement or warmth.

Mine was jagged, bitter, carved out of a hollowed chest. Almost smug, like defiance sharpened into a blade I could at least pretend to wield.

"It won’t be convenient for you, Alpha," I said quietly, the word Alpha slipping from my tongue like it was coated with acid. "Trust me. There are so many ways to kill a person. And I won’t hesitate to do them to myself if it comes to that."

Because what else did I have left?

Nothing.

No pack. No home. No safety waiting for me anywhere beyond these cursed walls. My life had already been bartered away by the Alliance, and if I breathed another day, it was only because Rion allowed it. What was there to cling to except vengeance?

Finn.

His name was a flame in my blood, the only thing that made my heart beat with any purpose. My reason for breathing, for enduring humiliation, for enduring this. If I could survive long enough to tear his life apart with my own hands, then my suffering would not be wasted.

But if that chance was stripped from me, if Rion or the Alliance or fate itself decided to steal even that from me, then I would end it on my terms.

My death, my choice.

If, by some miracle, I ever managed to crawl out of this whole nightmare alive and unscarred, perhaps I could start anew. A new life. A place far from packs, far from blood.

But that dream was a fragile thing, weightless, too far-fetched for me to hold with anything more than idle thought. I didn’t believe in it. Not really.

His gaze darkened as the words left me, smirk wiped clean from his lips.

What stared back at me was no longer amusement, no longer play. It was venom, raw and unrestrained.

His crimson eyes glowed like burning coals, and for the first time since I met him, I understood how much violence could live in a single look.

His shadows pulsed outward in response to his darkness, curling along the bridge, climbing the walls, stretching long fingers toward me as if they might drag me into the dark themselves.

I almost took a step back. Almost. My muscles tensed, every instinct in me screaming to retreat.

But I forced myself still.

Rion’s lips parted, his voice a deep baritone.

"My first rule in this bargain," he said, the words firm, tyrannical, "is that you can never do so much as think of harming yourself, Vivien."