Seven

KELVON’S POV

The carriage wheels jolted against another rut in the road. I clenched my jaw, the impact shooting pain up my spine. Outside, dust billowed around us as we approached the southern human camp for the royal inspection.

Sweat trickled down my temple. The heat season's first breath hung heavy in the air, thick with the barbarism of my people that was sure to come. Something thrashed beneath my ribs—my beast, sensing what lay ahead before my mind could name it.

Ahead, the generals' horses kicked up clouds of dust. Their raucous laughter carried back to the carriage.

"...and their eyes! Gods, the way they widen when you select them." General Torran's voice boomed over the others. "They've been trained to obey, but it's more fun when they try not to cry."

I felt sick to my stomach. You would think the elevated men in the carriage would be of better character. But as their glasses clinked and laughter erupted, it became increasingly clear they were just as bad as the men on horseback.

"Last time I had one with hair like sunfire." General Merrick pantomimed running his fingers through long strands. "She claimed to be a half breed and begged me to spare her dignity but she couldn't even speak our tongue. Just whimpered." He closed his eyes, inhaling as if savoring a memory. "I did spare her life though. She was a delicious treat and did I mention very breed able."

They roared again, the sound thick and cruel.

From outside the carriage’s open window, I saw General Kaine lean forward in his saddle, lowering his voice to a stage whisper. "Do you think the prince will pick one today?"

Silence fell like a blade. All heads in the carriage swiveled toward me.

I fixed my gaze on the dark line of pines rushing past, keeping my face a mask of indifference. The muscles in my jaw ached from the effort. “I think you should ask my father that.”

"The king?" someone ventured, eyes darting between my father and me. "He used to take the best of the camps."

Someone cleared his throat, the sound harsh in the sudden quiet.

"Not anymore." My father's voice sliced through the tension. He didn't bother turning his head. "My interests have evolved. Bedding broken things holds no charm anymore. Although, you youngbloods are allowed to have your fun."

The men's laughter stuttered out, uncertain. My father's words hung between us, acrid as smoke.

General Torran nudged me with his elbow. "Still, what about you, Your Highness? Planning to build a harem of your own?"

I manufactured a smile, the same empty curve I'd perfected over years of court politics. "Let's finish the inspection before I decide."

Their laughter rose again, relief making it too loud. They fell back into their familiar patterns of filth and speculation. My father chuckled, then caught my eye. His gaze searched mine, probing.

I offered him a conspirator's smirk. The perfect son. The worthy heir.

If he could see how I'd paced my chambers last night, how I'd stared out at the moonlight thinking of that human slave with cornflower blue eyes and a stubborn jaw, how I'd summoned my most trusted healer with whispered instructions—Fix what they broke. Don't speak. Don't be seen—he would have probably had me executed where I stood.

The carriage came to a stop in front of the gates of the camp and we all got down to walk by foot.

The gates of the human camp groaned open as we approached. Guards snapped to attention, fists against chests. In the yard beyond, rows of humans knelt with bowed heads, motionless as statues.

My father entered first, as was his right. I followed, the scent of sweat, blood, and fear hitting me like a physical blow. My gaze swept across the kneeling figures of the human slaves, searching. They were dressed in their finest. Cheap throwaway clothes. But fine enough to be picked as sex dolls for Lycans.

She wasn't there.

Ice spread through my veins. I scanned the rows again. Nothing. No cornflower eyes. No stubborn jaw. No presence that made my chest constrict.

Around me, the generals had begun their selections. One grabbed a girl by the chin, tilting her face toward the light. She didn't flinch. None of them did. They knew better than to struggle. It was ingrained in them since the beginning.

I approached the captain, who stood rigid near the gate. His knuckles had gone white around his spear.

"Is everyone here?" I kept my voice casual, bored even.

"Yes, Your Highness." The captain stared straight ahead. "All accounted for."

He didn't blink.

I let the silence stretch between us, watching sweat bloom at his temple. From the corner of my eye, I saw my father turning toward us.

"Your women," I said, raising my voice just enough to reach the generals, "the ones present here at least are beautiful. But I was here a few days ago and there was a reason why whispers exists that this camp is the best place to pick the pretty ones."

The men paused their selections, heads turning.

“Your highness, I am confused.” The captain said.

"There are faces I believe my father’s generals would cherish. Faces I do not see here. It would be treason to keep the finest ones hidden." I tilted my head. "Especially from my father's court."

The captain's eyes widened, panic flashing across his face before he could mask it.

"Are you hiding the best for yourself, Captain?" I smiled, all teeth.

"N-no, Your Highness. Never." His voice cracked.

"I should hope not." I let ice creep into my tone. "It would be a shame if you thought yourself more deserving than the men who bleed for this kingdom."

Several generals nodded. One laughed darkly.

The captain bowed so low I thought he might topple forward. "I will see if any were mistakenly held back for work duty."

He retreated almost at a run.

I kept my face impassive, though my heart hammered against my ribs. If Lilith wasn't in the yard, she was either being protected for another Lycan or worse, being punished. Either way, someone would answer for it.

"You've grown into a real court player." My father's voice rasped close to my ear. I hadn't heard him approach. "You speak with venom now. A proper prince."

I met his gaze without flinching.

He clapped me once on the shoulder, his rings cold against my skin, then strode away to join the officials.

I remained still, watching the yard where women knelt like offerings. Beautiful, yes. Each one a living testament to what we had destroyed. But none of them burned bright enough to blind me.

Only that stubborn human girl had ever done that.

And if the captain thought he could make her disappear, he didn't know the depths to which I would sink to find her.

My father returned, his shadow falling across the dirt before him. He stood beside me, observing the generals as they made their selections.

"Kelvon." His voice was quiet now, meant only for me. "Has any of these human women caught your interest? Truly?"

I met his gaze, careful to keep mine steady. "No."

"No?" His brows lifted. The scar across his left eyebrow whitened as the skin pulled taut. "Not even the one I hear you sent the healer to?"

My pulse stuttered. I forced my breathing to remain even, my face a mirror of his casual curiosity.

"I don't know what you mean."

He smiled then—the smile that had preceded the deaths of countless enemies. His hand reached up, pressing flat against my chest, right above my heart.

"There is nothing wrong in lusting for their bodies, my son." His fingers pressed harder, as if he could feel the rapid beating beneath my ribs. "We are conquerors. Taking what we desire is our birthright."

His eyes—dark like mine but colder, emptier—searched my face.

"But weakness?" He leaned closer. "Sentiment? That I cannot abide."

I didn't move. Didn't breathe. Kept my expression neutral even as acid burned my throat.

"You taught me well, Father," I said. "I know better than to get attached to livestock."

His hand fell away. The smile remained, though his eyes narrowed slightly.

"Good." He nodded once. "Because I would hate to find you compromised by something so... beneath you."