The heavy doors of the royal hall groaned open.
Seven girls stepped inside, each flanked by a silent guard. Their footsteps rang across polished marble, echoing through the gilded silence.
At the end of the room, beneath banners of silver and blood-red, sat the King—crowned, unreadable. Beside him, the Queen, straight-backed and sharp-eyed. And beyond them, the seven Alpha princes, lounging like predators in silk.
The girls dropped to their knees.
The King's voice rolled through the chamber. "You are here to serve. Obedience is your currency. Use it well."
Eyes swept the kneeling line.
"No glances. No games. No illusions of freedom. You will answer when questioned. Speak truth. Hide nothing."
The Queen's voice followed—cool, clipped. "Bow when addressed. And never presume to ask."
A shiver passed down Aurora's spine.
Then the King gestured. "Each Alpha will question his assigned girl. Listen closely. Your answers may decide what happens next."
One by one, the princes rose.
Alpha Mateo stopped in front of his girl, voice silk-wrapped steel. "What do you feel when you look at me?"
She trembled. "Fear… and a desire to please."
He smiled faintly. "Keep both."
The next asked his girl, "What would you sacrifice for my favor?"
She bowed deeper. "Everything."
The questions cut sharper as they moved down the line—testing truth, slicing through masks.
Then Zev stood.
He stopped before Aurora, silver eyes unreadable.
"What do you feel for me?"
Her pulse thundered in her ears.
"Respect," she said slowly. "Fear… and the will to survive."
Zev didn't move. But there was something—almost approval—in the lift of his brow. "Honest," he said. "And useful."
The King's voice cut through the silence again. "The trial is not over. But some of you are starting to understand the rules."
A pause.
"Any questions before we continue?"
For a moment, no one breathed.
Then—Monica raised her hand.
Heads turned sharply.
She spoke evenly. "Why must we sleep in the same rooms as the Alphas? Are we meant to bear heirs?"
The Queen stood slowly, voice icebound. "You will not ask again."
Monica bowed, spine stiff. "Forgive me, Your Grace."
"You were not brought here to question our design," the Queen said. "You were brought to serve it."
She turned toward Aurora, as if drawn by stillness.
"You kneel well," the Queen murmured. "At least you don't pretend."
Aurora's throat closed. She said nothing.
The King's gaze swept them again. "Now. Say why you're here. Aloud. All of you."
One by one, they answered.
A redhead spoke of family debt.
Another claimed loyalty—then admitted fear of being forgotten.
One girl cried.
Monica smiled as she said, "I came to be useful. I won't fail."
The Queen's stare sharpened. "And what else?"
Monica hesitated. "Maybe… to be seen."
"Your ambition is noted. If you speak again without respect, you'll clean the stables."
Finally, Aurora.
Her voice was quiet.
"I came because my sister is dying. And I need to survive long enough to save her."
Silence.
The Queen stepped closer.
Then, to the King, she said, "This one doesn't flatter. She stays near Zev."
The King nodded. "Then she must obey—completely."
The Queen's words followed like a blade. "Disobedience. Deceit. Divided loyalties…"
Her gaze cut cold.
"…will earn you nothing but a locked door and silence on the other side."
—
The doors opened again.
A girl was dragged in.
One of the seven.
Aurora stiffened as the guards forced her to her knees.
"She was found hiding coded letters in her mattress," one of them announced. "She was writing to someone beyond the palace walls."
"No—I was afraid—please—" the girl gasped.
"She was a spy," the Queen said.
Before anyone could speak again, she raised her hand. "Take her."
Aurora didn't look up as they dragged the girl past them—but the black door at the end of the hall loomed, swallowing her scream.
It slammed shut.
Silence settled like dust.
The Queen's voice was soft now.
"You weren't forced to come here."
She walked down the line. "You volunteered. You knew what this place demanded."
"You are here not for freedom. But for legacy. For function."
Then she stopped at Aurora, gaze unreadable.
"But if you obey," she said, "you may yet be rewarded."
She raised her chin.
"Dismissed."
The girls rose. Slow. Unsteady.
Aurora followed without looking back.
But the echo of that black door followed her.
And she knew now—
This place didn't demand beauty.
It demanded surrender.
But she wasn't ready to give it.
Not yet.