Rein's POV
The council room
"We have seen enough," the amber-eyed man of the Council said, his voice cutting through the silence that had filled the room since Lady Veyra's dramatic entrance. Every gaze returned to her.
Their scrutiny made her shiver, but despite everything, she stood strong and tall.
"The breeder will remain under probation," the amber-eyed man continued. "She has potential and her birth rate is high, but her disobedience and stubbornness cannot be ignored."
Probation. Like I was some prisoner or psychopath patient that needed to be looked after. All I had done was refuse to be used as livestock.
Another Council member stepped forward. "You will be monitored closely. One mistake, and you will be sent away."
"To where?" My heart quickened. The words were said so carelessly, but what they implied...
Lady Veyra, pleased at my fate, answered smugly, "To the breeder camp. No fine dresses. No meals. Iron shackles. You will be treated like a slave and a sex toy."
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from reacting. I would not give them the satisfaction they wanted—especially not Lady Veyra.
Then, as though waiting for applause, Lady Veyra turned to the Council. "Since things here are unstable, I have decided to stay. Temporarily."
That attracted murmurs from the Council.
From their faces, I could tell they disliked it.
And I could also hear some of the things they whispered among themselves, thanks to my power.
I don't want her to remain here. She might ruin our plan.
She is just a spoiled brat. We can ignore her.
She is merely lovestruck with the Alphas, but the Alphas feel nothing for her.
"Lady Veyra," one voiced out, his tone disapproving.
"My father agrees," she interrupted. "He believes my presence will ensure the heir is chosen wisely. And we all know how fragile the Bloodfang legacy is."
I kept my face blank.
After a pause, the amber-eyed man gave a reluctant nod. "If your father supports it, then it is allowed."
Veyra's eyes widened with a smile.
She walked towards me one last time, her voice low and sweet—which disgusted me. "Try not to ruin things further."
I did not reply. I simply bowed and turned, walking out of the chamber with my head held high. Let them think they had won.
I was not planning on giving birth to any child or being sent away.
I was planning on escaping.
I had barely reached the corridor when I collided into someone's tall, broad chest. The impact jolted me.
"I... I am sorry," I muttered, quickly stepping back.
"Oh, no problem," the man blinked, as though stunned by my presence. His amber-brown eyes widened with familiarity.
"Princess Syria," he whispered.
My heart stopped instantly. My stomach twisted into a knot.
Before I could react, the man dropped to his knee. "It is really you. What are you doing here?"
I glanced quickly down the hallway. The maid behind me narrowed her eyes.
"Princess," she scoffed. "She is just a slave bought to give to an heir."
I turned slightly. "Do not call me that," I warned her with a cold gaze.
The man looked at me, stunned. "How can she be a slave?.
The maid rolled her eyes. "I think you have the wrong girl."
I shook my head, barely managing to keep my tone neutral. "Yes, you are mistaken."
But the man stepped closer. His voice became reverent. "Even if you do not remember me, I remember you. I knew I would find you again."
I backed away. Something in his expression had shifted. He was no longer awestruck. It was darker... possessive. His eyes swept over me like I was a long-lost possession he had finally reclaimed.
"You are not supposed to be here," he said, his voice soft but intense. "Come with me. I will protect you. I can take you away from all of this. Right now."
I froze. Was he serious—or insane?
His hand moved at his side like he was about to grab me. My instincts sharpened. I did not trust him one bit. Especially not with the look in his eyes.
Then—
"What is going on here?"
Just from the voice, I knew it was Fred. His tone cracked through the tension like a whip.
I turned sharply.
They were there. All five brothers. Silent. Imposing. Watching.
Fred's gaze dropped and locked onto the man's hand—still close to my wrist. He did not say a word, but the pressure in the air became suffocating.
The man beside me tensed.
Fred took a step closer, slow and deliberate, but calm. "I asked a question."
The others stood behind him like shadows. Rohan wore that mischievous grin that always meant trouble, like he was enjoying the show. Jace cracked his knuckles, eager for violence. John moved to Fred's side like a loyal sentinel—quiet, observant. And Jake... Jake's stare felt like a scalpel, slicing through the moment. He missed nothing.
I was confused by their expressions. Why were they behaving and acting possessive of me.
I did not move. My feet were stuck to the ground.
The man finally spoke, stammering. "I... I did not mean any harm. I just recognized her."
My heart dropped.
"Recognized her as what?" Fred asked coldly.
A long, dangerous silence.
"Princess Syria, the one whose kingdom was destroyed," he said.
My chest tightened. Damn it.
"A princess?" Rohan said, teasingly.
I wanted to vanish.
Because Syria also mentioned and warned him that nobody must know about her identity as a princess.
The man's face turned white. "I think I was mistaken . She just resembles someone I once knew," he said quickly.
Fred tilted his head slightly. "Then forget her face just as easily. Before it gets you killed."
The man's courage cracked. His mouth opened like he wanted to protest—then closed again. But before leaving, his gaze met mine one last time—hungrily, desperately, almost reverently.
I hated how his eyes lingered, like I was a ghost from his past or a treasure he had lost.
Finally, he turned and disappeared down the hallway.
Fred's gaze snapped to me. "Who was he?"
"I do not know," I said, my voice barely there. But it was true. I did not know who he was—just that he knew me.
John squinted at the space where the man had been. "He looked ready to drag you off."
"Or propose in the creepiest way possible," Rohan muttered.
I could not even muster a glare. My legs still felt weak.
Jake's voice broke the tension. "It is not every day you hear a stranger calling you 'princess.'"
I stiffened. "It is a mistake," I said quickly. "He said, I looked like someone he knew."
Fred did not move. He did not nod. Did not blink. He just stared like he was reading through my skin—down to every secret I tried to bury.
Then he turned. "Get to your quarters. We will talk later."
His tone left no room for argument.
I gave the smallest nod I could and turned away, willing my steps to stay steady.
I could still feel their eyes on my back. All five of them.
But none of them scared me as much as that man's gaze.
Or the fact that the the syria's past I was trying to outrun had finally found its way to the mansion's doorstep.