Valta awoke with Gregor's body pressed against hers. His arm was heavy on her waist, his fingers spread possessively on the firm surface of her abdomen, his thumb tracing the lower part of one of her breasts in slow, unconscious circles.

She moved just enough to shatter the illusion of intimacy. Gregor stirred immediately, his eyes opening heavily before sharpening as he realized where he was and who lay beside him.

"My Alpha," he snored, his voice rough and thick with sleep.

Valta turned her head just enough to meet his gaze over her shoulder.

"You're clinging on too much," he said calmly. "It's not appropriate."

Gregor's hand instantly loosened, trembling as it hung over his hip.

"Forgive me," she whispered. The words vibrated against her skin.

She sat up in one fluid motion.

Behind her, he watched her with raw, open lust, his eyes tracing the curve of her waist, the weight of her breasts still half-hidden by the shadow, her nipples taut from the sudden cold and the memory of his mouth hours before. His penis pressed rigidly against his abdomen, dark and reddened, glistening at the tip. He made no move to cover himself. He never did when she was watching.

"You're leaving for Drelwen today," he said, his voice cracking at the edges.

-Yeah.

"Take me with you." The plea came out too quickly.

Valta reached for the silk robe hanging on the chair.

—No.

"I could protect you. Serve you." He sat up. "Anything you command."

She turned then, still holding the robe, letting him drink in the sight of her body. One eyebrow barely rose.

—Of humans?

His throat worked.

—Anyone who dares to look at you for too long.

A faint, dangerous smile curved her lips.

—You confuse sex with courage. Do you have courage, Gregor… or are you just warming my bed?

She took a step toward him. He fell to his knees without her command, his head thrown back, his throat exposed in instinctive submission. The position pushed his chest forward, his sex swinging helplessly between his thighs.

Valta watched him for a long moment, then closed the distance. She tangled her fingers in his dark hair and pulled his head back even further, forcing him to meet her gaze.

"You warm my bed when I allow it," he murmured. "You spill yourself for me when I permit it. That's the sum of your worth outside these walls."

His breath came out in a shudder.

—Then let me prove myself further. Let me…

"You plead beautifully," she interrupted, her thumb tracing the swollen curve of his lower lip. "But pleading doesn't change anything."

She released him only to slide her hand lower, wrapping her fingers around his taut length. A single, firm, slow movement was enough to make his hips thrust forward and a broken moan escape his throat. His precum trickled onto her knuckles; she deliberately spread it along his shaft, watching his face contort with need.

"Stay," she gasped. "Just a little longer. Please."

Valta considered refusing, but for some reason he didn't.

Instead, she pushed him back until his shoulders bumped against the furs. She mounted him unceremoniously, her knees framing his ribs, her wet folds sliding down the bottom of his sex. He groaned, his hands instinctively rising before freezing in midair, waiting for permission he knew might never come.

Her mouth stopped over his.

"Do you want to taste me?" he asked softly.

—Yes… gods, yes…

Then she kissed him, her teeth catching his lower lip, her tongue plunging in to devour the desperate sounds he couldn't hold back. One hand closed again in his hair, tilting him exactly as she wanted; the other slid down to grasp his sex, stroking it once, twice, with enough force to make his back arch off the bed.

When he pulled away, a thin strand of saliva connected their lips for a heartbeat before breaking.

She lifted herself up a little more, moving forward until her sex was suspended right above her mouth.

"Earn it," he ordered.

Gregor launched himself.

Her tongue plunged in immediately, ravenous, tracing broad strokes from the entrance to the clitoris, then circling the swollen pearl with frenzied devotion. Valta dropped her head back, but her expression remained cold, almost distant. She moved her hips lazily, mounting his face with the same unflappable control she used in battle.

He groaned against her, the vibrations coursing through his core. His hands gripped her thighs, his nails digging in as if anchoring himself against the tide of his own despair. She allowed it… for now.

As the first tight knot of pleasure began to form, she leaned back and wrapped her fingers once more around his aching sex. She pumped it in time with the sway of her hips, bringing him to the edge and holding him there.

Her tongue faltered, her breath coming in ragged gasps against her flesh.

"Don't stop," he ordered.

He redoubled his efforts, sucking her clitoris between his lips, striking it with the tip of his tongue with devastating precision. Valta's thighs tensed. Her breathing quickened.

She came silently as pleasure washed over her in waves. Gregor drank every drop, trembling violently beneath her.

Only when the last spasm faded did she rise, leaving him panting, her lips swollen and glistening, his sex dripping steadily onto her belly.

She stood up over him, the robe finally slipping off her shoulders.

"That," he said quietly, "is all you get."

She left him lying on the hides, in pain and denial, while she prepared herself for the journey.

Later,

The pack waited at the outer gates.

The warriors stood in perfect formation, their armor polished and wolf pelts draped over their shoulders. As Valta advanced, the black leather clinging to every curve and the silver blade at her hip, she felt the collective shudder of submission ripple through their ranks.

His parents were in front.

Gerald Red Fang stood stiff as a board, and Janet's dark furs could not hide the trembling of her hands.

They offered no hugs or words of pride.

Valta stopped in front of them.

—Mother. Father.

Gerald bowed his head. Janet's mouth trembled.

"Is Maelor still breathing…?" Valta asked, his tone as light as frost, "or has he finally let go of his grip on life?"

Janet stepped back.

—He's... getting better. Slowly.

"Tenacious creature," Valta murmured.

Gerald's jaw tightened.

"You are leaving today to honor peace," he said. "Try not to turn it into war."

Valta barely smiled.

—Peace is nothing more than war postponed.

He got into the chair.

Her parents remained motionless, watching until the distance swallowed her up.

There was no farewell gesture; they preferred that he not return.

Meanwhile, in Drelwen, contained panic reigned.

King Aldric moved about the assembly hall with sharp, calculating eyes, issuing orders in a low voice, adjusting arrangements, and correcting details that others might have overlooked. Every banner had to hang precisely. Every table had to be laden with abundance. The wine flowed freely, the finest vintages drawn from guarded cellars.

This wasn't hospitality; it was strategy.

He hated wolves.

He hated their strength, their wealth, their effortless control over lands and resources. He hated that treaties existed because humans couldn't impose peace without them.

"This ceremony," he said to his advisors in a low voice, "is not about honoring her. It's about understanding her."

They nodded.

—We watch. We listen. If they drink, we encourage it. If they brag, we remember it. —Her mouth curved into a thin line—. Even monsters have weaknesses.

Allen stood near the long tables, carefully polishing glasses, his expression serene despite the tense atmosphere. He had been chosen to serve wine alongside others. His hands were steady, his demeanor quiet, and his striking good looks effortlessly drew glances. He wore his ceremonial robes and looked exquisite.

The whispers followed him.

The men stared openly. The women blushed or looked away too quickly.

Even King Aldric's gaze lingered a moment longer than necessary.

"Make sure the boy serves his table," the king murmured to an aide. "Nice things loosen tongues."

Allen felt their eyes on him, but he didn't hesitate; he was used to being watched. He arranged jugs and folded tablecloths without looking back.

Outside, the horns sounded and silence fell over the town.

The wolves had arrived, on horseback and proudly displaying their banners.

Allen's pulse raced.

She still couldn't see the alpha queen's face, but she felt a chill run down her spine.