Sold As The Breeder Of Three Alpha Brothers

THREE BROTHERS

The doors of Mooncrest Palace opened before Lyra reached them, and the sound alone made her stomach drop.

Inside, the great hall stretched taller than any building she'd ever stood in, lined with banners bearing the three wolves crest, torches burning gold along walls of pale stone. Nobles lined both sides of the hall, whispering behind gloved hands as she passed. She kept her eyes forward and her chin level, refusing to give them the satisfaction of watching her flinch.

At the far end of the hall stood a raised dais, and on it, three thrones.

Three brothers.

"That's them," the guard murmured beside her, unnecessary as the words were. "The Crown Prince. The Commander. The youngest."

Lyra didn't need to be told which was which. The one on the left sat with his spine straight and his expression carved from stone, dark hair, sharper eyes, a presence that filled the room without him needing to move. The one in the center wore armor even at court, restless energy barely contained beneath his stillness, watching her the way a wolf watches something it hasn't decided is prey or not. And the youngest, seated on the right, studied her with an intensity that unsettled her more than the other two combined, like he already knew things about her she hadn't said out loud.

"Lyra Evermoon," announced a herald, and every head in the hall turned toward her.

She stopped at the base of the dais because the guard's hand on her arm told her to, and looked up at three men who apparently now held her future in their hands.

"So this is her," the middle brother said, rising from his throne before either of the others moved. "The Breeder Mate."

"Kael." The eldest's voice cut through the hall, quiet but absolute. "Sit down."

"I'm allowed to look, Darius."

"You're allowed to behave." Darius stood, slow and deliberate, and descended the dais steps until he stood directly in front of Lyra. Up close he was even more imposing, and yet his eyes, when they finally settled on her face, held none of the hunger she'd braced for. Only something quieter. Assessment, maybe. Or apology.

"Lyra Evermoon," he said. "I'm Darius Ashborne."

"I know who you are." She held his gaze, refusing to bow, refusing to shrink. "Everyone in this kingdom knows who you are."

Something flickered behind his eyes. Surprise, maybe. "You're not what I expected."

"What did you expect?"

"Someone more frightened."

"I am frightened," Lyra said. "I'm simply not going to let you see it."

A low laugh came from the youngest brother, who had risen and drifted down the steps without her noticing. "I like her already."

"Lucien," Darius said, a warning in his tone.

"What? I'm allowed an opinion too." Lucien circled her slowly, not touching, but close enough that she felt the weight of his attention like a hand on her skin. "You don't look like a prophecy."

"What does a prophecy look like?"

"Usually more grateful." His mouth curved, but his eyes were sharper than his tone suggested, like he was searching for something specific in her face and hadn't found it yet. "You're angry."

"You'd be angry too, if you were dragged from your home in the middle of the night and paraded in front of strangers who think they own you."

"Nobody owns you," Darius said, and something in his voice made her look back at him. "Whatever you were told before you arrived, that isn't how this works."

"Then how does it work?" Lyra demanded. "Because from where I'm standing, you three are about to bid on me like I'm livestock."

Kael finally left his throne and joined them, closing the distance with the restless energy of a man who didn't know how to stand still. "It's not a bid for ownership. It's a bid for the right to court you. To prove ourselves to you, if the histories are to be believed."

"And if I don't want to be courted?"

That question landed harder than she expected. All three brothers went quiet, and for a moment the noise of the hall around them seemed to fade.

"Then that will complicate matters," Darius said carefully. "The prophecy requires you choose. It has never required you choose quickly, or under duress."

"Careful, brother," Lucien murmured. "The Council won't like you saying that out loud."

"The Council isn't the one who has to live with whatever choice gets made tonight." Darius hadn't looked away from Lyra once. "She does."

Lyra studied him, trying to decide if the words were sincerity or performance. She'd learned long ago not to trust kindness that arrived too easily, especially from powerful men. But something in the set of his jaw, the careful stillness of his hands, made her want to believe him despite herself.

"What happens if I refuse all three of you?" she asked.

"Then the bloodline fails," Kael said bluntly, ignoring the sharp look Darius shot him. "That's the truth of it. No sense softening it."

"So it's not really a choice at all."

"It is," Darius said. "Just not an easy one."

The herald cleared his throat from the top of the dais, clearly uncomfortable at how long the exchange had gone on without ceremony. "My lords, the Council awaits the formal bidding."

Darius's eyes stayed on Lyra a moment longer before he finally stepped back. "Tonight decides who has the right to earn your trust. Nothing more. Nobody in this hall gets to claim you tonight, whatever they tell you otherwise."

"And if I don't trust any of you by the end of it?"

"Then we'll have failed you," he said simply. "And we'll deserve whatever comes after."

Lucien leaned close enough that only she could hear him. "For what it's worth, Breeder Mate, I don't think the prophecy got it wrong sending you here. I think it got it wrong sending three of us to meet you at once."

She didn't have time to ask what he meant. The herald's voice rang out across the hall, calling the bidding to order, and Lyra Evermoon stood at the base of the dais and watched three brothers return to their thrones to decide, in front of a hall full of strangers, who would get the chance to win a heart she hadn't offered to any of them.

Whatever came next, she promised herself one thing.

She would not make this easy for any of them.