Theron Ashwood POV
Theron arrived at Lyanna's cottage just as the sun was setting.
He came with guards, though he knew they wouldn't help. Came with formal documents spread across his chest like armor. Came with three years of research and preparation and desperate hope that none of it would matter if she refused to see him.
The cottage door opened before he could knock.
Lyanna Frost stood in the doorway, and Theron recognized power when he saw it. This was no ordinary woman. This was someone who'd spent centuries existing outside the normal world.
"She doesn't want to see any of you," Lyanna said flatly.
"I'm not here to claim her." Theron kept his voice respectful. Calm. "I'm here to serve her."
The witch studied him for a long moment, then stepped aside.
Iris sat by the fire, her violet eyes shadowed and tired. She looked beautiful and terrifying all at once. The silver light that rimmed her eyes seemed to pulse with her heartbeat. Power rolled off her like heat.
Theron bowed. Actually bowed, dropping to one knee right there in the cottage.
"Your Majesty," he said quietly. Not Queen. Majesty. Something more ancient and absolute.
Iris didn't respond. Just stared at him like he was something that had crawled out of the poisoned ground.
Theron stood slowly and pulled out the texts he'd brought.
"Three years ago I rejected you because pack law said a Luna must have her own wolf," he said. Each word was careful. Measured. "I told myself it was about law and tradition and duty. But I was a coward. I should have seen what you were meant to become."
"How kind of you to figure that out now." Iris's voice was ice. "Too bad it's three years too late."
"Yes," Theron agreed. He didn't argue. Didn't try to excuse himself. "But I spent those three years studying the old prophecies. Trying to understand what I'd seen in you that night at the ceremony. Something my wolf recognized even though I refused to acknowledge it."
He opened the first text and pointed to a painting. The Moonbound Queen surrounded by five Alphas. The magic flowing between them like threads of light.
"You are her," Theron said simply. "The one written about in texts that are older than our kingdoms. The one chosen by the Moon Goddess herself."
Iris looked away.
"I don't care about prophecies or magic or what the Moon Goddess chose."
"I know." Theron's green eyes held only sincerity. "But it's true regardless. And I came to offer something the others cannot."
He spread more documents across the table. Ancient research. Notes in his own handwriting. Symbols and explanations and years of work.
"Knowledge," Theron said. "I can teach you about the magic. About the prophecy. About what you're meant to become. I can be your scholar and your ally."
Iris stood abruptly, her power cracking through the air like lightning.
"You want to serve me now? After you rejected me? After you said I was unworthy?" Her eyes blazed silver. "You think knowledge makes up for that?"
"No," Theron said quietly. "Nothing makes up for that. But you need to understand the magic if you want to survive it. And I spent three years learning everything I could because I hoped you'd come back."
He took a step closer, his hands open, completely unarmed.
"I'm not asking for your forgiveness," Theron continued. "I'm not asking to be your mate or your lover or anything personal. I'm asking to serve you. To help you understand what you are. To stand beside you and use my knowledge to keep you alive."
Iris felt the pull of the broken mate bonds reaching toward him. Felt her own power wanting to respond to his sincerity. She pushed it all away.
"I don't trust you."
"You shouldn't," Theron agreed. "Not yet. Maybe not ever. But the other Alphas are coming, and they'll come with rage and desperation. I'm offering you something different. I'm offering you truth. I'm offering you a chance to understand the magic before it consumes you."
He waited. Didn't push. Didn't demand anything.
Iris studied him carefully. Theron Ashwood was beautiful in that scholarly way. Silver hair. Green eyes. A quiet intelligence that made him dangerous in a different way than the others. He wasn't trying to claim her through force or charm. He was trying to help her survive.
That was somehow more unsettling than if he'd begged.
"I want you to leave," Iris said coldly.
Theron nodded. He gathered his texts slowly, carefully, giving her time to change her mind. She didn't.
He moved toward the door, his movements deliberate and gentle. He stopped at the threshold and turned back one last time.
"The magic will need all five of us or it will destroy you," he said quietly. His voice carried no judgment. Just fact. "I hope you choose survival over pride."
Then he was gone.
Iris stood alone by the fire, listening to the sound of his guards leaving. Listening to the cottage settle around her. Listening to her own heartbeat trying to sync with the broken mate bonds that were pulling at her from five different directions.
She realized something then.
Theron had done something the others hadn't. He'd come prepared. He'd studied her. He'd spent three years researching prophecies and magic and preparing himself to serve her if she returned. He knew exactly what she was before he even saw her.
That made him dangerous in a completely different way.
The others would come with desperation and passion and need. They would want to claim her. Want to prove themselves through force or charm or persistence.
But Theron had come with knowledge. With understanding. With the quiet certainty of someone who'd prepared for her return and knew exactly how to help her survive.
And that was infinitely more terrifying than any aggressive claiming could be.
Outside, the night deepened. The blood moon rose higher. And Iris felt the weight of the magic inside her bones grow heavier.
Four years left before it consumed her completely.
And one Alpha down. Four more coming.