Decided by morning
639 Words
Room 7 wasn’t a prison.
That made it worse.
No bars. No chains. Just space, silence, and a silver cuff on the pillow like an offer I never asked for.
I didn’t touch it.
Touching it meant admitting I needed it. Admitting I couldn’t hold my own blood back.
I paced instead. Three steps to the window, three steps back. Outside, Valecrest Keep spread below me—cold stone, colder wolves, all of them knowing I was here.
_Under his authority._
The words tasted like ash.
A soft knock. Not Caelis. Too light.
“Enter,” I said.
The door opened to a girl, maybe sixteen. Human servant, by the smell. Eyes on the floor, hands shaking around a tray of food and water.
“Alpha Zevran sent this,” she said. Voice barely there.
“Eat. You’ll need strength.”
I stopped pacing. “For what?”
The girl hesitated, then looked up quick. Fear and pity both there.
“For the trial.”
My blood went cold.
“Trial?”
She nodded, already backing to the door. “Word spread fast. The elders want to see if you’re a threat. If your scent breaks them again…”
She didn’t finish. Didn’t have to.
The door closed. Tray sat untouched. My stomach tied itself in knots.
Trial.
Public.
With Zevran beside me, or against me.
I finally looked at the cuff.
Silver. Valecrest marks carved into it. Not a suppressor—those were iron and rough. This was meant to bind. Tie me to him.
If I wore it, I’d be his in every way that counted.
If I didn’t, I’d walk into that trial with nothing. One wrong breath, one hit of fear, and I’d lose it. And they’d kill me for it.
Footsteps outside. Heavy. Familiar.
The door opened before I chose.
Zevran filled the frame. Eyes on the cuff first, then on me.
“You didn’t put it on,” he said. Not a question.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not yours,” I said.
His jaw tightened. He stepped in, shut the door behind him. The room got smaller.
“You’re in my house, under my law,” he said quiet. “You don’t get to choose that.”
“Then kill me now and get it over with.”
For a second his face moved—anger, frustration, something raw under it.
“I don’t want you dead.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
He crossed the room in two steps. Didn’t touch me. Just close enough I couldn’t breathe without tasting him.
“The trial’s tomorrow,” he said. “If you walk in without that cuff, they’ll see a threat. I won’t be able to stop them.”
“So put it on me yourself.”
His eyes went dark.
“You want me to force you?”
“I want you to admit this isn’t about keeping me safe,” I said. “It’s about control.”
Silence stretched between us. Heavy. Dangerous.
Then he reached out.
Not for my wrist.
For my chin.
He tilted my face up. Thumb brushed my pulse. I felt it jump under his touch.
“If I put this on you,” he said low, “you’ll feel me. Always. Every thought, every pull.”
“Is that supposed to scare me?”
“It should.”
His thumb stayed half a second too long before he let go.
“Decide by morning, Veyra,” he said. “Once the elders start, I won’t be the only one choosing if you live.”
He left.
The door clicked shut.
I stared at the cuff. My fingers hovered over it.
A voice outside. Caelis. Low, urgent.
“Alpha. The elders are here. They’re not waiting till morning.”
[End Chapter 4]
- Writer
