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50 I do not send my mate into a ring to die. 

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“Why are you allowing something like that? She is supposed to be your bride. Are you ever planning on making her your Luna, or are you just trying to add an extra warrior to your platoon?” 

I looked down at her. I kept my face completely blank. “In Ironmaw, those two things are the same. A 

Luna is a warrior. She leads. She fights. She survives. The South breeds ornaments. You breed women to sit at tables and look pretty while men make the decisions. I do not need an ornament. I need someone who will not break when the winter comes.” 

The Queen’s eyes filled with tears. They spilled over her cheeks, cutting through the pale powder on her 

face. 

“Please,” she begged. The aristocratic mask finally fell away. “Please, Alpha Volkov. I am begging you as a mother. Do not do this to her. She cannot take it.” 

“Did she tell you that?” I asked. 

“My…my daughter is stubborn. And you do not understand her,” the Queen cried. She grabbed the edge of my leather sleeve. 

I looked down at her hand. I did not move, but the sheer coldness of my stare made her pull her fingers back instantly. 

“She spent years in a different life,” the Queen said, her voice dropping to a frantic whisper. “She spent three years in Blackwater. She thought she mattered there. She thought she was loved. That Alpha manipulated her. He built her up just to tear her down.” 

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I had smelled the deep, rotting scars of that rejection bond the moment I found her in the cabin. 

“She is fragile,” the Queen continued, crying openly now. “She is barely holding herself together. She spent years thinking she was important, and it turned out to be a lie. If you do that exact same thing to her-if you make her think she can fight, and then you let her get destroyed in front of your people-she will not survive it this time.” 

She wiped her face with a shaking hand. 

“She will be broken,” the Queen whispered. “Permanently. Please. Do not break my daughter.” 

I stared at her. I analyzed every word she just spoke. I looked at the tears on her face and the trembling in her shoulders. It was a pathetic display. It was the exact type of weakness that made the South so easy to manipulate. 

My response was cold. I made sure my voice carried no empathy. “You sold her to me.” 

The Queen froze. The tears stopped tracking down her cheeks. 

“You sat at a table with King Aldric,” I said, my words slow and deliberate. “You watched your husband 

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sell your fragile, broken daughter to a man you call a barbarian. You watched him sign the contract. You packed her bags. You sent her into the freezing mountains. And you did not say a single word to stop it.” 

The Queen opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. She looked like she had been slapped. 

“Do not stand in my hallway and lecture me about breaking her,” I said. I stepped forward. I used my height and my mass to force her to take a step back. “You abandoned her. I am giving her the tools to make sure no one ever abandons her again.” 

The Queen shook her head rapidly. “She will die tomorrow.” 

“If you truly care about her,” I said, “then come to the yard tomorrow morning. Come and watch your daughter defeat her opponent.” 

The Queen’s eyes went wide. She stared at me like I had lost my mind. The shock briefly overpowered her fear of insulting me. 

“Defeat her?” the Queen asked, her voice breathless with disbelief. “How can you possibly believe Sera will win? She has not been trained. She has never been to any battle. She is a princess. She grew up in a palace. She does not know how to hold a sword, let alone fight a northern killer.” 

“That is why she has been training,” I countered smoothly. “I do not bet on losing dogs. I do not send my mate into a ring to die.” 

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