PICKING SIDES

Serena.

“She is my slave, brother”, Tristan seethes glaring daggers at Thorne.

The council chamber is stifling, and it is not from heat but from the power emanating from these two powerful alpha heirs.

Tristan’s grip on my wrist is tight. Too tight, but I do not wince because on my other side, Thorne holds on to me just as firmly.

Two brothers. Two heirs. Both refusing to let go. The council members watch in deadly silence, nobody wanting to interfere. Time stretches for what feels like eternity waiting to see who wins.

I already know the truth though, that this is not about me. I am just the stage on which their war plays out. So, I do nothing, I do not resist, speak or even react.

I simply observe. Who will bend first? Who has more power? Who can I use to carry out my revenge? If I can become an ally of the strongest one, I can take down the other and then use his weakness against him.

“Let go,” Tristan grits out, his silver eyes flashing with fury.

Thorne does not flinch. He merely lifts his head, a lazy smirk curving his lips. “Make me.”

The murmur that follows is quiet but undeniable. Thorne just challenged Tristan, a direct one at that. I feel Tristan stiffen beside me. He knows what this means.

For a moment, I wonder if he will lash out, if he will force Thorne’s hand right here in front of the council. Instead, Thorne raises his voice. “This is the man you would have as your Alpha?”

The words send a ripple of murmurs through the council members. Thorne knows exactly what he’s doing. Shifting the narrative. Making this not about a slave. Not about me, but about Tristan’s ability to rule, about his temper and his lack of control.

I see it hit the council members, the flickers of doubt, and although no one speaks against Tristan, no one supports him either.

A slow smirk tugs at Thorne’s lips. He’s winning and Tristan knows it.

His fingers tremble against my skin before, finally, he lets go, not gently or in surrender but barely restraining his fury.

Without another word, he turns sharply, storming out with the grand doors slamming shut behind him.

The High Elder exhales. “The meeting is adjourned.” The tension lingers even as the council disperses, with whispers and murmurs.

Thorne’s eyes never leave mine and I return it for a moment, then turn away. This isn’t over, not even close. I have figured out the stronger twin, now all I have to do is get on his good side, how hard could it be.

I barely make it down the hall before Isabel catches up to me. “That was reckless,” she hisses under her breath.

I blink at her, feigning innocence. “What is?”

Her eyes narrow. “You are playing a game you do not even understand yet.”

I cross my arms. “I was not playing anything.”

She scoffs. “You let them fight over you in front of the council. You did not protest. You did not bow. You did not even try to escape.” Her eyes bore into mine. “You let it happen.”

I say nothing because she is right.

Isabel exhales sharply, lowering her voice. “Listen to me, Serena. You have no idea what it means to be caught between those two. This is not just some petty rivalry. This is war and now, you are a battlefield because they will drag you into it.”

The words send a chill down my spine. I am about to ask her what she means but before I can respond, a presence comes up behind us.

His hands clamp around my wrist and I turn around sharply to meet Tristan’s silver gaze.

He looks furious, his eyes cold, but he says nothing and just yanks me forward. Tristan drags me from the hall, completely ignoring Isabel.

My feet struggle to keep up, but he does not care.I can see that he is livid and that makes me shiver in fear because when Tristan Sinclair is furious, someone suffers and tonight, that someone is me.

The moment we step into the grand courtyard, my stomach drops. The entire pack is assembled together, all the warriors, nobles and even servants. Every single one of them is watching.

I do not know if this is planned, or if Tristan is making a point to humiliate me in front of them all. Either way, I can tell that this is not going to end well for me.

He shoves me forward making me stumble. This results in laughter erupting through the crowd.

“A slave who does not know her place,” Tristan announces, his voice sounding sharp and commanding. “I think it is time we remind her.”

A cold dread pools in my stomach. No, he would not. Tristan Sinclair may be heartless, but this would be crossing the line.

The murmurs grow, with some of the crowd excited and some shocked.

This cannot be happening. Tristan is about to perform a marking, a public claim on me, not out of love or affection. Out of ownership, he wants to own me.

Panic surges in my chest as Tristan steps closer. His grip shifts to my chin, forcing my head up.

“You need a reminder of who you belong to. You are mine.”

The words are like steel, cold and final. Then his fangs graze my skin and I can feel the crowd hold its breath.

I tremble, not just in fear, but in fury.A public claim is barbaric and just wrong, especially between a master and slave. Besides, I know that this isn’t just about power. It is not even a punishment.

Tristan Sinclair is making a statement to his brother.

Just as he is about to sink his fangs in my throat, the doors slam open and Thorne’s voice booms through the hall.

“If you touch her, Tristan,” he says, stepping forward, his silver eyes ablaze, “I will take everything from you.”

Tristan smirks at his brother and pulls me closer to him, not breaking eye contact with Thorne.

“Go ahead, brother, try me” Thorne's words are sharp as a blade.

Gasps ripple through the crowd as Thorne steps forward, calmly, too calm but his silver eyes burn.

For a moment, the world goes still until Tristan bites down.

I gasp as my vision blurs and I feel pain, blinding, searing pain.

My knees buckle and the last thing I hear before darkness swallows me whole is Thorne’s howl of rage.