Our lives can not remain on hold as one day almost seemed too much to ask. Entering the government compound, over 15 minutes late for our meeting, Verando stifles a yawn. I almost regret the small moment of happiness. Caring for a baby right before our significant departure was reckless, yet I can't find it in myself to wish it any other way. 

Rolling my ring idly on my finger, I wish we had had time to stop for coffee. 

The compound is buzzing, racked with nervous energy considering the number of decisions coming from the upper ranks. It would seem on Ron's side of the pond, we were much more important than we'd ever been to the likes of David Malcom. 

"Have we heard from Tiberius?" I ask him, getting the last rub in on one of my eyes with the back of my hand. Once we're in front of company, I can no longer cater to the exhaustion creeping into the corners of my gaze. The Siren hadn't contacted me, it was often Verando who gained most of our intel. 

Judging by the look on my warlord's face, I pitied any man bearing bad news. The emotional toll of becoming someone he rarely allowed for an entire day had drained him of any empathy. He wore his politician's face, lips slightly turned down in the corners, and eyebrows tensed with his sharp gaze almost glaring into the distance. 

"Not yet." 

I purse my lips, judging by his tone, he was still annoyed that I slept through the alarm, while struggling to allow him to wake me. Letting a slow breath out, it does nothing to relax his shoulders but it does ease the scowl.

"Sorry," I mumble, as much as I don't sound apologetic, I'm perfectly aware of his intolerance to tardiness and, what he would consider, laziness. 

Grayson greets us as we enter the long, narrow hall, deep in the lower levels of the compound. "There you both are-" The look of impatience stops him in his tracks and the young mage swallows, bowing his head in respect. "Mr.Mercer." He greets, clearing his throat, and turning towards me. "Mr.Mercer."

"Nicolas is fine," I interject, pleased to see the mage had gained a bit of respect with an angry lycan glaring down at him. "Is Tiberius here?"

Glancing at me, he makes a face, and I wonder if it's terrible news. 

"Where are they?" Verando demands, his voice deep and stark in the small space. It echoes off the walls and makes Grayson take a small step back. The man could command an army and never raise his voice. Grayson, unused to the stern treatment with his days nestled comfortably in the Dead City, struggles to fall back into line with a dictator.

 "Laziness. This should be done, Grayson: documents, a complete lineup of all that is to be had for the day. I have two days, and you're wasting precious moments floundering. If you can not speak, point and I will find them myself. Make yourself of use and get me a bloody coffee." 

The mage points and the imposing force of the gray-haired lycan marches past like a dark cloud. I raise my eyebrows at Grayson. "Put out a call to everyone, let us try not to get on his bad side today. He didn't get enough sleep last night." 

Was I oversharing? 

With a nervous laugh, Grayson adjusts his outfit. "Nicolas, that is how Mr.Mercer is when you're not around. This is quite typical for all of us, it would appear when he's tired he can't hide it from you very well. If ya think back, he shot my sister. I'd chase after him if I were you, it's not great news." 

Heading the warning, I run after him and catch up as he rounds the corner, tracking the scent of our companions. We end up in a large room though it looks much more like a medical bay than a briefing area. My hair stands on end, and he hesitates in the doorway, blocking me with his arm. 

"Marcello." His tone is low, almost accusing.

Marcello smiles with a nod. "There you are. Slept in?" He winks only to earn a tightened expression in return. "Good to see marriage hasn't changed you, Rando." It would appear he'd been spending time with Rhea, as that was her pet name for my husband. 

Verando scowls at the nickname. 

"Absolutely not." 

"Fair enough." Marcello holds up his hands in acceptance of the terms. "I've brought you soldiers."

"Uninterested." Verando steps into the room, and I almost want to swat him for his dismissive nature. He had agreed to our terms, we had to make these decisions. 

Marcello, undeterred by the display, gestured to the lineup of fifteen men. "These are all single men in their thirties, they are accomplished military veterans who have agreed to enter the trial for Project Lycan."

"Seems a bit.. obvious?" I comment, tapping my chin lightly. Grayson returns with coffee and I graciously accept. "And you're all up to speed on what this project entails?"

The men nod in unison. Marcello almost appears proud. "People do this for various reasons, out from under the thumb of the government and a fresh start is one of them. Fighting for the freedom of a species is not a difficult sell to these men. They understand-"

Verando interrupts him with a low growl, clenching his fist firmly enough that I can hear the audible pop of the complaining joints. "How? How can they possibly understand what it entails? Did you explain to them that there is no going back? There is no escape, and the change itself could be enough to kill them. Not everyone survives the first shift."

One man steps forward, chin tilted up, "We are prepared to serve." He announces firmly.

 Verando rolls his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief as he begins to pace. 

Marcello crosses his arms over his chest, exuding calm energy. "History tells both sides; your side was quite honorable. While you might be a ruthless force of nature, you have also helped many people. Besides, you are not the entire package." He gestures to me, shrugging. "Nicolas is a big sell. The Good King has a lot of followers; many people want to learn magic. You'd be surprised how many magical people there are in this world that have no outlet."

I find that very accurate; there's an entire city of them just outside the limits. 

"I think we should do it. These men seem up to the task. They're in great shape, and they have the training, Verando, we need them." 

I don't dare use an informality with the mood he's in. I keep my tone firm, and even. The biggest mistake one could make in a situation like this would be my old method of trying to handle him. His temper was 'handled', this was merely a reaction from the wolf.  Turning to the men, I compose my face. 

"This could be your future." I gesture, knowing he wouldn't mind the example. "Unbridled anger from an animal that lives inside of your conscious mind. You will become a danger to your friends, your families, and anyone around you.. even if you can control it, the wolf can at times have a mind of its own. I want you to consider this before you accept these terms." 

They glance back and forth between one another, breaking the carefully constructed farce of calm. Helen and Tyler enter the room, Helen bright and perky with Tyler dragging from drinking too much. 

Finally, a second man steps forward, one of the youngest. "To be honest, Sir, it's not the wolf that is frightening but... er.. him." 

I try not to laugh at the thought that my husband was more terrifying than becoming a giant dog. 

"If I'm not speaking out of turn, Sir, you have quite a reputation, as Marcello said."

Marcello scoffs, enjoying a good laugh from the admittance. "He'll keep you alive; a hardass like that will never let you forget your place. You need a man like him; that's why he's survived. Verando is exactly who we need him to be, who I'd like you to emulate. A survivor, someone who won't leave your sorry asses behind if shit gets rough, and someone who won't hesitate to put someone down for bad behavior. Gentlemen, this is as much of a sentence as it is a reward. There are pros. And there are also many cons."

The original soldier nods in agreement. "I agree. Experience keeps people alive; it's why they need us; we have experience and can aid in the training of young recruits. I'm not afraid of a little hard work."

Verando processes this, cooling his frustrations. "As pathetic as that is, I am not your leader. Helen is." He extends his hand to Helen, who puts on her best Alpha face. "I am her advisor, I am retired, but I'm the only one who has the power to create."

This seems to relieve and frighten them as they're all experienced with what a greenhorn boss can do to a mission. 

"I can assure you, Helen is a wise leader with a lot of experience." I chime in, earning an appreciative smile from the young woman. 

"Come, Helen," Verando instructs and pulls her to stand next to him. She does her best to mimic the stance of squared shoulders and taut jaw though her expression could use a decade more of malice. "Recruitment lasts for life; there is no returning. You will be expected to obey and adhere to the lifestyle. There will be death and pain, regret, and torment; why anyone would agree to become a lycan is beyond my comprehension. 

So, on that, congratulations on starting your introductions as mentally insane. Should you not die in the first few days, you will undergo extensive training to get your wolf under control. Failure to perform will result in immediate forfeit of your life. We euthanize here, gentlemen. There is no room for reformation of a wolf gone rogue."

The younger man hedges, eyes wide. "If we don't listen, you'll kill us?!" He snaps.

Verando nods once. "Immediately. You are soldiers, not civilians. Coupled with a lycan form, you are an immediate threat. If you step out of line, you will be terminated. This is not a game. This is the rest of your life as a loaded gun with no safety." 

Helen purses her lips, looking uncertain of the terms herself. To my surprise, nobody leaves; they stay firmly in their place. I imagine they're used to hazing and scare tactics, I wish I could assure them that he was more serious than I ever care to admit. 

I had seen firsthand what it takes to run a lycan army, granted Helen would be their trainer for the majority; I pity anyone who brought the infamous warlord out of his retirement to dish out justice. 

Reluctantly, he removes his jacket and folds it neatly, setting it on the counter. Snapping his fingers at Grayson, the mage quickly comes over. "Get a nurse, have her bring enough syringes for everyone." 

Nodding, Grayson disappears as Verando begins to undo the buttons of his shirt. 

"Must you get naked?" Marcello demands with a sigh. 

"If they go rogue, I don't want to ruin that shirt and jacket." He kicks out of his shoes but leaves on his pants and belt. 

The younger man speaks up once more. "You're... not going to bite us?"

"Absolutely not. Disgusting. I have no idea where you've been, and human blood will taint a lycan. My blood should be enough to infect you thoroughly. From there, it's your body's decision. Take a good look, boys; this is your future." 

Pulling the shirt off, he bears the scars for all to see. I recall my first time seeing them, they took my breath away with their severity and the size of the injuries. 

"A lycan was made to destroy." His gaze fell on Helen, and she almost looked upset as she rubbed her arm. 

Tyler seemed to agree, and I elbowed him roughly in the ribs. 

"Status report on Tiberius?" Ever the productive member, he removes his watch and I step forward to get the details.

Tyler sighs, running a hand through his hair. "David was able to recover files, and Tiberius brought them back along with David. It does save us a trip; it would appear that Master Gabriel is undocumented for the most part. He did have a file but his parentage was unknown, he was an orphan." 

That I was not expecting. I visibly deflate at the thought that the trail ran cold. I was hoping for some indication of where Fergus was, to tell us we were on the right track. "Nothing else?"

 Handing me the paperwork, I take it from Tyler and read over the scrawled Romanian. 

"Școala Solomonari." The words draw my eyes. "Libertatea Obligațiunilor." 

My heart begins to quicken, and I read the words repeatedly. 

"What does that mean?" Helen asks curiously. 

Reading it again, I scan the practically blank paper of this man's origins. "It's the same school I went to. School Of Solomonari, Freedom of Bonds. It's, admittedly, one of the most dangerous schools. That would explain why he's as talented as he is, depending on how long he studied..."

Verando watches me, sighing heavily as the nurse enters the room, which causes the poor creature to almost run back out at the sight of the unpleasant expression waiting for her. I recall his distaste for needles and close the gap between us for some minor reassurance as she approaches him cautiously. 

"Well, what are the odds that he lived at the school? That would explain why there was no birthplace or family."

Lived at the school? 

While I had never heard of it, it wasn't impossible. The dragons were strange creatures; if they saw potential, then it was a possibility.

 "Living at the school would have been a tough life; I wouldn't wish that on anyone," I note his expression, and I know exactly what he's thinking, yet he's waiting for me to bring it up. "It's been brought to my attention that Gabriel looks like me." I allow, and the group eyes me with bated breath. 

Why could I possibly say? They were entitled to my opinion, yet I was so uncertain of it myself. I fidget with my ring, rolling it on my finger. They want it to come from me, and I can respect that. They value my sanity too much to risk purposing this man was of kin to me. 

This was no time for secrets with the world's end on our doorstep. 

"Fillipa and I were rumored to have conceived a child. While I had, for some time, thought that Tyler was a descendant of that child, I now see that there is another conclusion. I am suspicious that Gabriel could very well be my son."

The room is silent, save for the nurse's steady breathing and squeaky apologies as she wraps the tourniquet around my warlord's arm. Her eyes widened at the flexed bicep, following down to the tight coils of muscle in his forearm, pounding pulse allowing the veins to come quickly to the surface. 

Her gaze flicks up, and she swallows at the glower that meets her. With a sigh of exasperation, Marcello approaches and takes the needle out of her hand. "Ma'am, would you rather me do this?" She quickly nods, stepping back. 

Verando wrinkles his nose in response to the stick. 

Continuing, I keep my eyes on the filling tube of dark red liquid. "If Gabriel is that child; if he has lived amongst the Solomonari since his youth, then we are dealing with a much stronger foe than I had anticipated."

Tyler shakes his head, trying to fathom this. "How, though? How would he be alive? Your father was in his hundreds, I understand that, but over four hundred years old? Gabriel didn't look a day over forty."

I'm unsure of this, too. 

"He's using dark magic," Verando grumbles. 

"Which ages you." I remind him. 

Helen taps her chin, pacing slowly. "What if Gabriel has Fergus? Gabriel has been trying to find a battery; the bounty hunters have said he was looking for a gray wolf. Maybe he's following your lead?" 

She makes a valid point. We had decided that lycans were the answer to the Solomonari power struggle; as long as the lycan lasted, I had unlimited power, which seemed the same for Tyler. All of our users had benefited from their Lycan relationships, so it only made sense to ask why he was trying to keep a hold on Tonic. 

"Could Fergus keep him alive?"

Verando slips away from Marcello as the needle is retracted, and I almost feel sick at the sight of the multiple tubes of his blood. He holds a cotton swab to his arm and sighs as he's prodded with the stethoscope to check his pulse.

 "Fergus can do or be anything, he just doesn't want to because he's an asshole. But. A compelling user might be able to extract magic from him? Nic can pull from me on command if he so pleases without my consent." 

Is that how he sees it? 

I don't let the thought slip out; I'd known this for some time. 

"Gabriel has Fergus..." I allow, staring at the ground as I fathom this. It seemed pretty farfetched; how would he maintain the unicorn? How would he hold him? 

"If that's true, then he is unstoppable," Verando concludes. 

Helen makes an annoyed sound and shakes her head angrily; the burst of heat makes me take a step back. "He can't." She demands, willing it not to be true. "If he had Fergus then we would have sensed something, he's obviously in the state? Fergus throws off huge amounts of magic!"

"I would not keep him here if I had a unicorn trapped." Verando retorts. 

"Nic is a good guy; why would his son do this?!" Helen seems to be making the case as if someone could see this as my fault. While I struggled with that concept, I'd done exactly what I'd promised to never do. I vanished, and the boys mother would have died, it might have been a free for all to raise the boy considering how powerful I was. 

I was the son of the most powerful magic user, only to become a close second, if not succeed my father. A child from me would have been something to covet. Raised incorrectly... we were seeing the result of that torment. 

It's my turn to be the voice of reason. "If he was an orphan, taken by the school, then there is no limit to what he could have faced there. I got a good read on him, just in those few moments. He's not like Red, he seemed...."

"Calm." Verando finishes for me.

I nod in agreement. "In control. This is not revenge; this isn't some sick plot to kill everyone. He has a reason, and the best way to find out is to go to France, where they've spent most of their time. Someone has to know something." 

I know where we must go next as we file out of the room. Hearing the distant clang of chains attached to men, Verando slips back into his shirt, carrying his jacket and shoes. I offer a glance, knowing he intended on being here to witness the shift; it would seem Tonic was of greater interest to him than the state of new fledglings. He looks disgusted, and I know better than to comment on it. 

Behind us, men would be turned into wolves; their bodies would break, shatter, alter, and bend to create a beast from my father's hands. While new lives were being made, we had one more life to decide on.

"It's time to talk to Tonic."