Valta lay reclining on the large bed covered in furs, a figure sculpted in shadows and moonlight. The air around her pulsed with a silent command. Beside her was Gregor, her chosen favorite, his chest still rising and falling strongly, his skin glowing faintly from the warmth of her presence.

She had personally chosen him to be more of a pleasure toy than a lover. She had other wolves to satisfy her desires, but she preferred Gregor.

Gregor was one of the few males in the pack who could hold her gaze without breaking. He had a warrior's build, hands marked by scars, and eyes that burned when she looked at him. Even he knew that what they shared wasn't love. It was a privilege.

He looked at her now, with a mixture of astonishment and exhaustion on his face.

"You'll ruin all the males in this pack," he murmured with a breathless smile, trying to provoke her.

Valta slowly turned her head, a mocking smirk brushing her lips.

"They ruin themselves," he replied. His voice was soft, but it had a steely edge.

Gregor chuckled softly, looking down as he reached out to draw a line across his shoulder.

—Then maybe I should be careful not to ruin myself too.

"You should," she replied simply, withdrawing her hand with a lazy grace that was both rejection and invitation. "You're here to serve, Gregor... nothing more."

The words fell without cruelty, but they marked the usual distance between them. She had warned him once, the first time she let him into her bed: “You can have my body, but never my heart.”

Gregor knew the rule well. Even so, there was something about her that drew him back again and again. The danger. The way her power filled the air. The way she dominated him until he forgot what it meant to govern himself. She wasn't a woman to be possessed. She was a storm to be survived.

Mounting him, she shifted her hips to take him completely. Surprised by the sudden movement, Gregor's mouth opened as he gasped for air.

She was insatiable and sought her own pleasure without caring about what her lover felt at that moment.

The heavy doors burst open.

The intruder didn't call.

Josh, their Beta, entered with the poise of someone who had never needed permission.

Gregor tensed, immediately lowering his gaze in a sign of respect, though a spark of irritation crossed his expression. No one dared interrupt the Alpha. No one, except Josh.

Valta's eyes rose towards the newcomer, unperturbed.

"You still have the habit of forgetting that doors exist," he said, in an almost amused tone.

Josh stopped at the foot of the bed. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and possessed a firm confidence that stemmed not from power, but from a loyalty forged over years. His dark hair was casually pulled back, and his gray eyes met hers with a rare mixture of respect and familiarity. He had known her since she was a child, before the crown, before the blood. To her, he was more than a subordinate: he was the last thread of something resembling family.

"I call when I think you're going to answer," Josh said, crossing his arms. "Otherwise, I assume you're busy not listening."

Gregor let out a low growl, but Valta silenced him with a simple glance.

Josh's eyes were fixed on Gregor, a silent warning reflected in them.

"What's wrong, Josh?" she asked, her voice regaining its authoritative calm.

“The council is awaiting your review of the pack’s documents,” he replied. “The traders are demanding a new tariff, and the northern patrols are still short of supplies. You’ll need to approve or reject it before dawn.” He hesitated, his expression softening slightly. “And… Maelor’s status.”

The name hung in the air like smoke.

Valta's expression didn't change. He tilted his head slightly, a minimal sign of annoyance crossing his face.

—Is he dead?

Josh frowned.

—Not yet. But he's weak. He still isn't talking to anyone. Your mother is with him.

A soft sigh escaped her lips, more out of boredom than worry.

—Then it's fine.

Josh watched her for a moment.

—He's your brother, Valta.

"And he was stupid enough to challenge me," she replied coldly. "I spared his life. That's more mercy than I owed him."

Gregor glanced from one to the other, tension curling in his jaw. He had seen his ruthless side before, but hearing the coldness with which he spoke of his own flesh and blood was unsettling even to him.

Josh took another step closer, lowering his voice.

—At least you could visit him. The pack still remembers when they were children together. You could…

"Make me look weak?" Valta interrupted, her eyes hardening. "No, Josh. They need to remember what I am. What happens when someone stands up to me."

For a long moment, they held each other's gaze… Alpha and Beta, bound by history, separated by the beginning. Then Valta moved.

She rose from the bed, tall, serene, and naked, each movement a deliberate display of control. The moonlight framed her figure as she took the heavy robe from a chair and slipped it on unhurriedly. The air seemed to shift with her gesture: colder, more focused, the indulgence of moments before fading into something regal and dangerous.

Gregor half sat up, as if he wanted to stop her.

"Stay," she said softly. "You don't have to deal with them tonight. Let them wait."

She turned towards him, her face unreadable.

"Gregor," she said gently, moving closer until her hand rested lightly on his chest. "You've done what I keep you here for. Don't start imagining that gives you a place by my side."

The words were kind. The meaning, definitive.

Her throat tightened.

—I just wanted to say…

"I know what you meant." He withdrew his hand, his eyes hard. "You please me. You make yourself useful. That's enough. Don't desire more, or you'll lose even that."

Josh watched silently, though a fleeting shadow of displeasure crossed his face, not directed at Valta, but at the man he still believed could care.

Gregor lowered his head and forced a bow.

—As you wish, Alpha.

Valta stepped aside without looking back.

-GOOD.

The power she possessed filled the room once more, cold and absolute. As she walked toward the door, her hair caught the moonlight.

Josh walked beside her, silent at first. Together they traversed the long corridor, the torches casting flickering shadows on the stone.

"Do you ever rest?" he finally asked, in a softer tone.

—I rest when there is no one left who dares to challenge me—she replied.

Josh let out a low laugh.

—Then you'll never sleep.

"Perhaps," she said. Then, after a pause, "But that's the price of peace, isn't it?"

Outside, the wind howled across the pack's territory, carrying with it the distant echo of wolves. Valta's gaze drifted toward the horizon, to the border where their lands met the human kingdom of Drelwen. She didn't know why her thoughts lingered there that night, but they did, faint, like a whisper beneath the surface.