Weights and Measures
The private hall of the Vorn Wing was drowned in silence. Not the comfortable kind... but the heavy, cutting one. The kind of silence that precedes war.
Rhaek stood tall, his back to her, staring through the glass wall that overlooked the city’s domain. Hands clasped behind his back, jaw locked, his temple pulsing.
“So that’s it?” — Her voice trembled... not with fear, but with revolt. With barely disguised despair. — “You’re just going to discard me like this?”
He didn’t turn.
“I don’t discard what was never functional.” — The answer came dry. Cold.
She clenched her fists, striding toward him.
“I was your Luna. I am your Luna!”
“Was.” — He finally turned, his eyes sharp, cold, full of a superiority that bordered on cruel. — “Was... until we discovered that all this time... you lied.”
Her eyes filled, but she held it back.
“I... I didn’t lie! I didn’t know\\...”
“Didn’t know?” — He stepped forward, enough to make her instinctively step back. — “You sold yourself as fertile. You knew it was a demand from the Elders. You knew that without it... this throne wouldn’t stand.”
She swallowed hard.
“I...” — tried to speak, but her voice vanished.
“How many moons?” — His tone dropped, deep, cutting. — “How many moons did you know? How many moons did you lie? How many moons did you lay in my bed knowing your womb was useless to this throne?”
She gritted her teeth.
“You didn’t choose me only for fertility.”
Rhaek let out a dry laugh. Soulless.
“Don’t be naive. Here... everything is about power. Legacy. Continuity. And you... you sold me a broken product.”
Her eyes widened.
“What... what kind of man says something like that?”
He stepped closer, invading her space, voice low and threatening.
“The kind of Alpha who carries na empire on his shoulders. The kind who cannot afford weakness. The kind who... isn’t your lover. Nor your boyfriend. Nor your toy. I am your Alpha. And as Alpha... I decide who stays. And who falls.”
She took a deep breath, trying to hold her ground, but her hands trembled.
“You... you can’t just...”
He raised a hand, cutting her off.
“Oh, I can. And I will.”
He stepped away, walked to the command table, tapping a few commands. Holographic files popped up — genetic data, medical reports, clinical evaluations.
“All reports confirm it. Infertile. Cycle terminated. Zero chance of reversal.” — His gaze cut straight through her, void of any trace of mercy. — “The Elders already know. The Council already knows. Soon... everyone will know.”
She brought her hand to her mouth, as if that could contain the scream rising from her throat.
“You... you wouldn’t do this to me... not after everything...”
He tilted his head, eyes narrowing.
“I don’t do anything... you didn’t start.”
Silence.
Precise. Deadly.
He walked towards her — slow — like a predator that has already won.
“And you know what else...” — his tone slid, low, poisonous — “Soon... another will take your place. And it won’t be subtle.”
She gasped, stepping back twice.
“No...”
Rhaek smiled. Cold. Razor-sharp.
“Yes. And you know what’s even more interesting?” — He leaned in, lips nearly brushing her ear. — “A child... will walk through that door. Will carry my scent. My blood. My name. And will sit on the throne of the Vorn.”
She trembled.
“You... you can’t...”
He grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.
“Oh, I can. And I will. And when that happens... you’ll watch. Sitting. Silent. Because your voice... no longer matters.”
He released her like something disposable.
“Prepare yourself, Luna.” — The disdain in his tone felt like a physical slap. — “Your replacement will be... spectacular.”
He turned away without looking back.
She stood there. Trembling. Shattered. Crushed.
But deep down... deep in her gut... something hadn’t died. Something still screamed. Still burned. Still plotted.
Because if there’s one thing a wounded she-wolf knows how to do... it’s wait for the right moment to tear everything apart.
And if Rhaek thinks he’s won... he’s about to learn that thrones... can bleed too.
...
The silence that followed his last words wasn’t just uncomfortable. It was a sentence. A knife pressed against the throat.
Rhaek walked slowly to the table, activating the holographic panel again. Didn’t even bother looking at her.
“Don’t be dramatic.” — He said, not even raising his voice. — “You know exactly how this works.”
She didn’t answer. Just folded her arms, clinging to herself not to collapse right there.
“The price paid for this marriage... was advantageous.” — He slowly turned, glancing at her over his shoulder with that gaze that always felt like a blade. — “Therefore... you won’t be discarded.”
Her throat bobbed. She swallowed, lifting her chin even as her legs threatened to buckle.
“You’ll stay here.” — He continued, circling the table, hands behind his back, voice cold, mechanical, almost bored. — “As part of my harem. A position that, let’s be honest... matches exactly what you can offer now.”
She clenched her teeth. But didn’t speak.
“However...” — He stopped in front of her, arms crossed — “you will no longer sit in the seat of Luna. That’s over. You’ll no longer hold that title.”
Her heart raced, but outwardly... nothing.
“You will care for the first heir that walks through those doors.” — His gaze sliced through her. — “You will raise them as your own. Feed them. Educate them. Teach them to respect this throne... because this throne is mine. And they will carry my blood.”
Silence.
He leaned in slightly, threatening.
“And if I hear... even a whisper of disagreement from you... if you dare to interfere, to question...” — his eyes narrowed — “you will be banished. Cast out. Reduced to the status of na ordinary omega.”
Her chest rose and fell rapidly. But she... said nothing.
Not a word.
She swallowed hard. Looked him in the eyes one last time, with every drop of dignity she had left. And, without a single word... she turned on her heels and walked away.
Door. Closed. Silence.
When the sound of her heels faded down the hallway, Rhaek sighed deeply, pressing his temples, feeling the weight of his own decision.
The communicator buzzed.
“Alpha.” — The deep voice of one of the Elders. — “We’re waiting for your formal decision. The pack cannot remain in this deadlock.”
He closed his eyes, jaw tightening.
“I...” — he growled — “need time.”
Silence on the other side. Then...
“Time?” — The voice grew suspicious. — “For how long?”
Rhaek stood firm.
“As long as necessary.”
“You’re asking for too much, Alpha. The pressure is immense.”
“I know.” — He paced to the window, gazing down at the city below. — “And I won’t drag this any longer than needed.” — His tone hardened. — “But I won’t hand over a vulnerable throne out of haste.”
A long pause.
Then, the Elder replied, displeased:
“Fine. You have a few more moons. But we expect a final answer. Otherwise... your brother will have to return. After all... he already has a Vorn with that she-wolf. A lineage... once faded by chaos... but still respected by every other pack when it stood in power. Think about that.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll handle this... soon. But leave my brother out of this.”
The transmission ended.
Rhaek clenched his fists, slamming his knuckles against the table. Hard.
“Damn it...”
Now everything revolved around a single question.
Yes, he could claim the boy. His blood ran through the child’s veins. He just had to formalize it. Just command it. No one would contest. The law, the instinct, and the Vorn Code were all on his side.
But there was one problem... one variable that complicated everything.
Narelle.
If he simply demanded the boy... she would fight. And with her... Kael.
And Kael wasn’t just any wolf. He was his Beta. His brother. His strongest ally... and, equally, his greatest risk.
Na open dispute with Kael could tear the hierarchy apart, split the pack, and create fractures that their enemies would eagerly exploit.
The other option...
Dirtier. Raw. Primitive.
Take Narelle.
Simple as that.
If he, as Alpha, demanded any she-wolf from the harem for his bed... no one — absolutely no one — could object. Not the Elders. Not Kael. Not even her.
If Narelle were summoned by the Alpha... she would immediately sever all other bonds.
But... there was a detail.
She had to submit.
Willingly or not... it didn’t matter by pack law.
But it mattered to him.
Because if Narelle surrendered... if she accepted... everything would change. She wouldn’t just be the mother of the heir. She would become the chosen she-wolf. And if she chose to stay... no one — not even the past — could question it.
Rhaek leaned back in the chair. Stared at the city, at the territory under his rule, at the edges of his own sovereignty.
Everything was in her hands now.
If she accepted to live with him... to walk away from Kael once and for all... the game would be over.
But if she resisted...
He would do what na Alpha must do.
Because na Alpha... doesn’t ask.
He ‘tak
es.’
And on this throne... there’s only room for ‘one.’
“The choice... is yours, Narelle.” — He murmured to himself, a cold smile creeping at the corner of his mouth. — “But make no mistake... there’s no way back.”