Rein's POV
The knock on the door came so early that I thought I dreamt it.
"Breeder," a crisp voice called out.
I groaned, rolling to the side of the bed and burying my face into the pillow. That word felt like a slap across my face every time it was uttered.
"Syria," the voice called again, a little softer this time.
The door pushed open before I could say anything, and a maid stepped in with a bundle of folded fabrics in her hand. She did not look at me—just walked straight to the basin and opened the tap, letting the water flow in.
"What is going on?" I croaked, sitting up slowly. My bones were sore from a bad sleeping posture, and I was tired from overthinking the encounter I had with Fred last night.
"The council has summoned you," she said flatly.
I blinked. "Council?"
She nodded. "They wish to see you. It is protocol for breeders to be presented formally… so they can assess your value and worth."
My stomach churned. I was not sure what I expected here, but being evaluated like livestock in front of a panel of old werewolves had not been one of them. Still, I was a little relieved. If I was to be inspected today, then maybe—just maybe—I would not have to be forced to have sex with Fred. One more breath of space.
The maid gestured for me to enter the tub. "Come. I must prepare you."
I did not move right away. "Now?"
She shrugged her shoulders and poured scented oils into the water. "I do not know. It is just a rule in this mansion, when the Alphas buy a breeder, the council must know if she is worthy."
I sighed and stepped off the bed. The water was warm and fragrant, helping to relax all my tense nerves. The maid worked quickly, scrubbing my skin.
After bathing, she handed me a soft ivory gown. The fabric shimmered against the light, revealing how fine its quality was. She assisted me in wearing it—it clung to my figure, but it did not feel vulgar. It felt ceremonial.
"Who picked this?" I asked, admiring the material.
"Lord Fred," the maid replied.
Of course he did. The thought almost made me want to shred the cloth.
Instead, I sat on the stool and let her arrange my hair. After that, she applied minimal makeup. A mirror was placed in front of me. I barely recognized myself. The whole appearance made me look like a bride being prepared to meet her husband.
Sadly, that was not my fate.
When we stepped into the hallway, we were met by two bodyguards who escorted us toward the heart of the mansion.
With each step, the weight on my shoulders grew heavier. I wished I could turn back, but there was no escaping what I was walking into.
But if they thought I would be weak in front of some self-important council, they were wrong.
---
The council chamber:
The council chamber was colder than the rest of the mansion—both in temperature and in mood. High-backed chairs were arranged in a semicircle, almost resembling a half-full moon. They were old men, one woman, and a middle-aged man, all staring sharply at me. Their expressions were hard to read.
At the center of the room, there was a raised platform. I supposed it was for me.
"Step forward," one of them said coldly. It almost felt like I was about to be judged.
I did not move. My feet were glued to the floor, but my chin lifted instinctively.
"Your name?" the woman asked. "State it."
I met her gaze.
Maybe this was the time.
It was not my plan.
But…
"Rein," I said, holding her stare.
She hummed. "Not Syria."
I hesitated. "It is not mine."
A murmur passed through the council members. The amber-eyed man tapped his fingers together, watching me closely.
"Your purchased name was Syria."
"I am not her."
"And who are you, then?"
I stepped slowly onto the platform.
"Someone who did not choose to be here—but is here with no choice."
The older councilman to the left let out a small chuckle. "She speaks so well for a breeder."
"I was not born one," I snapped.
There it was again—the pride. The one I had tried so hard to hide. But here I was, speaking with no fear and no hesitation in my eyes.
The woman tilted her head, looking deep into my eyes. "Your accent… it is different."
The amber-eyed man leaned forward. "Where are you from, girl?"
I opened my mouth, hesitating—whether to say it or not. But who cared? I just wanted to leave this mansion. Why would they allow a strange woman to be the mother of their heir?
"Far… far away."
The room fell quiet for a beat. Then the woman stepped toward me. I instinctively stepped back, but she circled me like a predator, appraising its prey.
"Your scent… there is something different about it," she said.
I stiffened. "I bathed."
She ignored the comment, stepping closer. She reached for my face and gently tilted my chin upward.
"No birthmark," she muttered. "And yet…"
The man at the far right finally spoke. "I suspect noble blood."
My heart started beating fast. He suspected—but he had no proof. Still, it was enough to change everything.
"I do not know. Maybe it is the way you speak, the way you act. A normal breeder would not be this confident."
Oh, so he just assumed.
I clenched my jaw. "And a noble woman would not?"
He smirked.
I looked around. "Have you seen enough? Am I worthy now?"
The man laughed. "That depends."
"On what?"
"On whether you will be obedient—or disrupt the balance in this house."
That was exactly what I was planning to do.
"I do not intend to be anyone's toy," I snapped.
The woman turned to the others. "She is dangerous. I see fire in her eyes. She will not be obedient."
"I can see that. It is better for Fred to manage her," the older councilman said. "The other boys are easier to manipulate, while that adopted one is sly."
Who was he calling sly? Maybe it was Jake.
I bristled. What did they mean by Fred managing me?
Do i look like a child?
The door pushed open before I could say anything.
Everyone turned.
And then she walked in.
Tall. Graceful. Draped in flowing black robes stitched with crimson. Her hair was pulled back in a sleek twist, exposing the sharp, regal angles of her face. Her eyes scanned the room—and landed on me—with pure disgust.
"What is she doing here?" she asked coldly, addressing no one in particular. Her voice cut through the air like a knife.
The council stiffened.
"Lady Verya," the amber-eyed man said, rising to his feet. "This is unexpected."
"I heard a breeder was being reviewed," she said, eyes never leaving me. "I never expected it to be someone like her."
I stared at her, heart pounding.
Something told me she knew.
"I do not see why the others are so intrigued," she said, stepping closer. "Do not get too comfortable, girl. The council has not decided who will sire the heir… and I do not plan to let a slave take what is mine."