She was brought in at dusk.

The hall was quiet, lit only by the dying amber light filtering through the high arched windows. Dust floated like ash in the air. Her steps echoed as the guards led her forward, chains at her wrists, dirt smudged on her cheek, blood dried at the corner of her mouth. She didn’t stumble. She didn’t lower her eyes.

Mattheo watched from the raised platform, fingers steepled beneath his chin. The other Commanders stood on either side, their attention already drifting. Too proud, they would say. Too wild. Useless for the Order’s purpose.

But Mattheo’s gaze didn’t waver.

She was beautiful, that much was plainly obvious, almost too beautiful to be real. Such delicate features, soft big brown doe eyes, perfectly plump pink lips and cheeks, even h the soles of her feet were. the same shade of rose, with soft graceful natural ringlets in her dark brown hair that simmered gold in the light, Thick lashes batted as she stood tall although laughably quite small and curved in stature. She stood still, breathing through her nose, like a caged animal waiting for the next blow but daring you to land it.

“She’s been re-educated twice,” one of the guards muttered. “Still won’t speak.”

“Too much trouble,” a Commander added. “You’ll get nothing out of that one but silence and venom.”

Mattheo rose slowly, the leather of his gloves creaking faintly as he stepped down from the dais.

“I’ll take her.”

The room fell still.

“She’s not compliant,” someone said, incredulous.

“I don’t require compliance,” Mattheo replied, voice low and cold. “I require results.”

He stopped in front of her, close enough to see the flicker in her expression—faint confusion, not fear. Interesting.

“You understand what’s expected of you?” he asked.

She said nothing. Her lips pressed tighter. But her chin lifted, just slightly, as if to remind him she had not broken yet.

Good, he thought. Let the fire stay a little longer. The cold will come soon enough.

He reached for her chain and curled it around his gloved fist.

“You will bear my children,” he said, voice just loud enough for the room to hear. “You’ll eat, you’ll sleep, you’ll obey. Fail in that, and I’ll make an example of you. Succeed, and you’ll survive.”

Still no answer. Just that burning, unspoken defiance in her eyes.

He straightened, turned to the guards. “Unshackle her. She’s under my protection now.”

The chains dropped.

She didn’t thank him.

He didn’t want her to.

As they left the hall, her silence followed him like a shadow—heavy, dignified, and utterly infuriating.

She’ll fight me. And I’ll let her—until she gives me what I want.

And then? God help me. I don’t think I’ll be able to let her go