Chapter 140 Tea with the Monster

Chapter 140 Tea with the Monster

I follow him into the familiar sitting room. Nothing in here has shifted a single inch. The same heavy, navy blue sofas sit in the center, surrounded by the exact same dark wooden tables from my childhood.

"We'll need to get a tailor in here to measure you for proper clothes instead of whatever garbage Cassian's pack handed you," Zion remarks as I sink uncomfortably onto the stiff edge of the couch.

I smooth my hands over the soft fabric of my pale purple dress. "I actually made this myself."

He blinks, looking caught off guard for a second, as if he completely forgot that sewing became my main escape after he stopped buying clothes for me altogether.

I bet he can sense how much Cassian used to praise my work, too, and he probably hates it just for that reason.

"Well... talent aside, that isn't really the standard around here," he mutters, settling into the armchair directly across from me.

I bite my tongue to keep a snappy comment from flying out, shifting my focus down to the ceramic teapot and matching cups laid out on the low table between us. The whole domestic setup feels so fake it makes me sick.

"What kind of tea do you want?" he asks, leaning forward to grab the handle of the pot.

"I'm good, thanks," I mumble softly.

Watching him perform a simple act of service is deeply bizarre. I honestly can't tell if he's attempting to play the caring father role or if he's just trying to keep me from having another panic attack. Either way, in all the years I spent under his roof, I never once saw him pour a cup of tea for anyone.

Any tiny thought that he might be changing disappears instantly when he shoots me a sharp, cold glare—the exact look that used to terrified me as a kid. My fingers instantly twist together in my lap.

"Jasmine, please. Thank you," I quickly correct myself.

His tense expression instantly softens back into that hollow smile as he fills my cup. "You really haven't changed much, have you?"

"You never actually knew me," I say, keeping my tone flat and icy. "It's not like you ever stepped foot in my corner of the house."

Zion lets out a quiet sigh, leaning back into the cushions of his chair. "To be completely fair, I didn't have much use for you back then. But now? Now I do."

I take a tiny sip of the tea, wincing as the burning liquid scalds the tip of my tongue. Honestly, it feels completely fitting to be hurting while sitting across from him—around Zion, nothing is ever easy or peaceful.

"Why am I really here?" I ask straight to the point.

"I’m getting older, Nova, and it recently hit me that I don't have a clear heir lined up to take over after me," he answers offhandedly, gesturing vaguely toward himself.

I bite my lip to keep from snorting out loud. He definitely looks more worn down than I remember. Deep lines cut across his face, thick silver streaks have invaded most of his dark hair, and there's a slight slump in his shoulders that wasn't there before.

"Can't you just pick someone you trust in the pack and train them up?" I ask, remembering a conversation I once had with Cassian.

Cassian had mentioned that Zion would sooner drop dead than let someone sharing his own blood take over his throne.

"That was my original idea, until... well, opinions toward my leadership shifted a bit within the ranks," Zion explains, picking his words with extreme care.

"To be clear, I never actually planned on having a kid. I didn't want anyone around who might push me out of power before I was good and ready. But now? Now I need someone from my direct bloodline to inherit the title."

The air leaves my lungs completely.

"Me?"

Zion bursts out laughing, as if the very thought is the funniest joke he's heard all year. I just sit there staring at him, utterly confused.

"Not you, Nova. Unless I kick the bucket a lot sooner than I plan to," he says, sobering up from his laughter.

"I mean, I'll teach you the basics just as a backup plan, but you're far from ideal for the job. Your close history with Cassian completely ruins your standing as a leader. God forbid you try to make peace with his territory."

I narrow my eyes at him. If I ever held a single grain of power in this place, making peace with Cassian's pack is the exact first thing I would do, ending this senseless feud once and for all.

Of course, pack politics are never that simple.

"Would peace really be the worst outcome?" I push.

"I want his land and his influence. I don't want his friendship," Zion snaps back instantly, as if explaining something glaringly obvious to a child.

His stubborn hatred and utter lack of remorse are the exact reasons his own people are turning against him. Yet, he's far too blinded by his own ego to see the writing on the wall.

"Okay, so if I'm not going to rule, who is?" I ask, still trying to make sense of his twisted logic. "Do you have another kid somewhere?"

"No. You're going to provide the next heir," he says flatly.

My brain completely freezes, everything turning into a blur of disbelief.

"Excuse me?"

"You're getting married next week to an Alpha of my choice," he lays it out, taking another calm sip of his tea in a way that makes my stomach turn.

"After that, you'll produce a child as fast as possible, so I can prove to my people that our line of succession is locked in."