The dust fills the ancient library, and the air feels suffocating with plumes of falling rock, dust, and ash. My body feels different- rejuvenated. Better, even, than when I used magic daily in school. As my eyes adjust, I realize we've fallen into my father's library. Laying haphazardly on a pile of aged books, rocks, and massive, heavy curtains, we'd been lucky enough to land almost entirely on the dragon. Our only salvation, for to have landed under her would have been our demise.

 The sulfur smell is strong; I cover my nose with the back of my hand, gagging on the stale air mixed with the dragon's breath. 

Slipping on the unlevel ground, I lose footing on the glass chunks surrounding us. The table had broken into pieces; chunks of stone had impaled the beast from the fall. I grimaced at the reality that this dragon had died because of me. 

Dark, red blood surrounds her, and with a shudder of her scales, I fear I'd been mistaken, only to realize that her body is shrinking. My gaze drifts, and the splotch of unique red catches my eye. I discover that Loan is beside her. His hand is outstretched, his chest hardly moving. 

I find it irritating that he continues trying to be the better person. Loan truly did care for the lizard. 

Pushing some of the rocks and debris from him, his pulse is faint, his body a flicker of the embers that fuel us as magic users. To wield a dragon was advanced, let alone to allow one to feed off of you. With a cough, he smacked my hand away, and his light brown eyes glared into my vicinity; at least he was coherent enough to look at me with such malice.

"I'm going to share some of my magic with you. After that, let me know if you need healing, alright?" I say softly, with as much care as someone who should be grateful could muster. I'd been around long enough to know when I was unwelcome; even if it was me they had saved, it was not for my benefit that I was alive. 

My hand touches his chest like an electric shock, jolting him from the depths and bringing him careening back into life with the ferocity of a hornet. Loan takes a swing at me, and I narrowly deflect his fist. 

Cringing, the red-haired man grips his bloodied side. The bitemark oozes blood and debris packed with dust and grit from the impact. It would help with the clotting but would not do much to prevent infection or manage the pain.

"Let me heal you." I reach for him.

Loan jerks away, teeth gritted, cursing in our mother tongue. "Maybe we should make sure everyone else is alive before we are back to square one with this overuse of magic?" His tone is harsh, and slowly, he stands, holding his hand to his side to slow the bleeding. "By the gods, Nicolas, I knew you were a royal, but I didn't think you'd be this incompetent!"

 "Good to see you haven't changed, Loan. Suit yourself," I mutter, never understanding the desire of men to be in pain rather than allow our magic to save them from suffering. I'd been around the man long enough that his words no longer wounded me. 

Haryek's translucent hair glittering in the light from the rooftop gives away his location. Trapped under the rubble, but more so held by his inability to invoke manual labor from himself, we shuffle rocks off of him as he whimpers about the agony of such a horrific fall. My hands fall on the fractured mess of the elf's leg, bringing a frown to my lips. 

He'd be lucky if we didn't end up amputating it. 

Silence falls over the pair, and when I glance up, I find them both staring at me as if I'd sprouted a second head. "What?" I mutter. "Are we going to start feuding again so soon? Can we not get out of here first?"

"Are you back? Are you yourself again?" Haryek asks timidly, "I mean.. beyond the usual affliction men feel for me, that is."

I'd gag if I had anything in my stomach. "You mean after you almost killed me? Yes, Haryek, I'm fine. Thanks for the reminder; maybe I'm less motivated to save your leg now?"

"So you were aware?" Loan cocks an eyebrow as if somehow that puts me, even more, to blame in this situation.

"Wait- save my leg?" Haryek demands. 

I pat the elf on the thigh, bringing a scream from my aggressor. "I think your leg is broken," I tell him cheerfully. "Yes, I was aware in some instances. I just couldn't do anything from beneath the veil. It was.. quite surreal."

Haryek groans, shutting his eyes and looking away. "Nicolas, I've been maimed thanks to this little charade." he whimpers, "Surely this has been punishment enough? Must you torment me?"

"Let's just get him on his feet and get him out of here. This place could cave in at any moment with no roof." Loan snaps, elbowing me roughly, holding his side as he attempts to pull Haryek to his feet.

"I'd quite rather leave him down here, to be honest," I mutter, though I move to help all the same. "Where's Victor?" Hooking Haryek's arm over my shoulders, I aid in propping him up. Loan spits on the ground while Haryek makes a broken leg sound like childbirth; they ignore me, and I narrow my eyes, leaning past the elf to stare pointedly at Loan. "We are going nowhere without Victor."

"Sorry, forgot to keep an eye on the lunatic." Loan scowls, "We can come back for the brute; you can't kill a lycan with a damned bullet. A fall is nothing to the beast."

"Victor." I raise my voice just slightly, "Victor-"

The Russian rises from the rubble, a hero in stature with the presence of his entrance back into the world of mere mortals.

 He is completely naked and covered in blood, littered with bite marks, and his forehead slashed so blood runs freely down his face and over his startling eyes. From ear to ear, he grins savagely with a booming laugh that echoes off the walls, trembling the cavern as if it fears for its goods. 

Victor has a glass shard in one hand and, in one motion, pops a single dragon fang from a puncture on his shoulder. He holds it up like a gory trophy and belts out a war cry; I can't help but wonder if he'd hit his head. Holding his fist up in triumph, he turns his attention to us, throwing the bloodied shard of glass into the pile of rubble.

"Look! Souvenir!" Putting his foot dramatically on the dragon's neck, the action causes Haryek to stoop over to vomit. 

"Oh god, he yanked a fang out of his body. Please, no more barbarians... for the gods." The elf mutters, earning a boyish cackle from the large blond. 

Pleased with the discomfort of my companions, I admire the man's excitement. "Glad you got a prize," I retort, holding my hand up to block his genitals from my view. 

"Like hell does he get a prize! You will return that fang at once, brute! It belongs to this dragon who doesn't deserve to be parted out like some trophy!" Loan snarls, considering approaching the lycan only to hesitate at the rumbling growl. 

"Would have to come get." Victor retorts stiffly.

"Excuse me, gentleman, but I'd kind of like to get this whole fucking leg thing remedied? Today, if you will?" Haryek's voice brings me out of my musings, and I shoulder him more readily, relieved to see the lycan alive. 

Victor approaches to replace our injured Solomonari, offering me a one-sided grin. 

 Much as I'm useless in helping carry the elf compared to Victor, he allowed me to pretend my help mattered. Loan slips away from us, moving to the dragon and kneeling before her in one quick movement. His palm rests on one of her heads, spreading his fingers across the scales.

"I'm sorry, girl." His voice is low and remorseful, something I'd never gained from school. A dragon was as good as dead to me, yet he touched her so gently, his hand skirting over her scales and stroking down her snake-like head. 

His shoes collect her blood, his robes stained beyond repair; Loan did not worry about the same things I concerned myself with. 

 Saying a few quick words, a mist-like substance leaves her mouth, and her body reduces to the size of a small snake. Carefully gathering her into his arms, I note his skin is darker, and his eyes are brighter; he'd harvested back what she'd taken from him and then some, a trick my father was infamous for. 

Even the purest of us could be corrupted by the siren song of available magic. It was taboo to do such a thing, yet he glanced at me as if daring me to out him.

"We will return her to her world. Maybe she can be reborn there." Loan tells us, pushing past to exit the tomb while Victor admires his fang and allows me to set the pace for dragging Haryek. 

The walk to the door is long and silent, save for the complaining of the elf and the heavy breathing of Victor's pride. As the doors open, we enter the scene of hundreds of wolves surrounding my home as if ready to go to war. Upon seeing Victor, tension leaves their bodies, and they settle back on the hackles and accept the terms of our agreement once more. 

At that moment, I did not doubt that if Victor had died, I would have been killed.

Adriam breaks into a run, bounding across the space and mounting the stairs. He throws his arms around the brute's neck, hanging from him like a necklace. He wraps his legs around Victor's waist and clings to him, leaving me to shoulder Haryek as Victor releases his hold in favor of the  Frenchman. The Russian puts one arm around his lover, showing him the fang. 

A ting of jealousy pangs my heart; what must it be like to be so unashamedly in love with someone?

"Worth it," Victor tells him with the most ridiculous grin as Adriam kisses his bloodied cheek and neck.

"I thought you were dead, you big idiot!" Adriam sobs, burying his face into the large man's neck. "Time and time again, I nearly lose you to stupidity like this."

"Next time in life or death situation, I remember to ask permission to fall from the ceiling?" The heavy sarcasm would make me laugh if not for the hundreds of eyes bearing down on us.

 Adriam nods, and Victor kisses him in a way that every man might wish to be kissed, with every ounce of adoration that a feral lycan male can spare. As he breaks the kiss, Adriam hesitates, sliding off the barbarian to compose himself with a sniff, tugging at his clothes. 

"Hold on, Victor." Turning to face us, his gaze even brings Loan to a pause. "You. All of you. We aren't done here. One hour, in the dining hall, we are to have a meeting to discuss what the hell happened today. All of you will attend; anyone not in attendance will be considered forfeit of any protections. Understood?" 

With a collective nod, I opted to bite my tongue, knowing when emotions were involved, there was little argument to be won. My interest did not lie in Adriam's assessment, I turn my attention back to the very lame Haryek, who is still suffering from a broken leg.

"I should probably heal you, though I feel you deserve every bit of this injury. What you did was inexcusable." I demand of the elf.

Disinterested, Haryek considers waving me off as I direct him back into the castle. "I never considered you fragile; I didn't think such a silly little spell would render you a corpse." He looks at me as if it's my fault. "You never told me you'd been entirely drained and could not help win this war."

Tense, I set my teeth, allowing him to limp uncomfortably beside me as we enter the dining hall, and I close the door behind us. "Nobody needed to know that; this is not the time to look weak." Being forthcoming with Haryek was not part of my plan, and yet, my fear of what he was capable of had dwindled to nothing with this new injury. Haryek would be sidelined and probably end up in my dungeon for his crimes against the crown. 

What would it hurt to get this weight off of my chest?

I sigh and kneel to feel his leg, allowing him to lean back against a table. Without asking him, I reset the bones in one quick pull of his ankle. It was much like tending to our young livestock; I'd reset several legs. I never liked to see things suffer, much to my aversion to meat; watching the lambs limp after being stepped on had always compelled me to try and heal them. 

To my surprise, Haryek grunts but doesn't make a sound beyond that. "You aren't what you're supposed to be, are you?" His tone is low and accepting, with an air of kindness I didn't expect from him. 

"I think I'm going to splint this and let you deal with it," I mutter, taking stock of the two places the bone appeared broken. When I stand to get materials, his hand wraps around my wrist; I jerk away and flinch at my aversion to people touching me. "Are any of us truly living up to our expectations, Haryek? I'm a lover of men, the youngest son, and have no preparation for the throne I've been left with. It's a pretty sorry state without dissecting my magic or lack thereof."

The elf's full lips pull into a thin line, taking stock of me, and when I can't take it anymore, he lifts his hand to bring me to pause. 

"You survived the most difficult school magical society has to offer." Haryek reminds me; I roll my eyes, turning to walk into the kitchen and grabbing one of the brooms. I didn't need the reminder that my inability to perform, to defend myself, didn't make sense. Putting my foot on the edge of the broom, I'm surprised by how easily I break the handle in half. 

I get to work setting his leg, using bandages from the cupboard, and he cringes. 

"I have a block," I tell him finally. "Solomonari are meant to heal and control the weather for watering crops and ending droughts, preventing floods.. mine seem only to be triggered under immense stress, beyond normal. Mine seem to be made for means in which my instructors felt uncomfortable nurturing."

Haryek's eyebrows knit together, his lips pulling down at the corner. "Or are they the only ones that are allowed to live? The trials they put the mages through are combat-based." Haryek insists. "You have magic, I have seen and felt it-"

"And yet, where is it when I need it?" I shoot back harshly. It was a wound that was all too fresh; if I had thought I was capable, I would have never fed my body to those lizards playing as men. "I've always fizzled out quickly; I've never had any endurance when it comes to my magic, and by the time I prove helpful, I'm drained and on the brink." Exhaling roughly, I force myself to ground, refusing to allow myself to return to that moment when I realized I would die in that hell.

"The only reason we are discussing this, Haryek, is because I know your credibility is gone. I haven't told anyone this, and if they knew, I'm sure we'd both be in that dungeon. Or perhaps he might go ahead and kill me." I sigh, tightening the bandages around the section of the broom. "I am a political peace offering to the territories, nothing more. I don't have to be good at this; I just have to stay alive."

"These people are counting on you to be good at this. You're supposed to cure their curse, or have you forgotten that promise?" The elf retorts lowly; we are surrounded by medieval dogs just beyond the doors; it is hard to tell when one might be listening. My eyes lower to his ankle, wrapping the last bandage around the purpling skin. 

"I think we both know what fate awaits the lycans on their march. If they go to Ziduri without magical aid, they will be slaughtered, and it won't matter anymore."

"And my father will come here, and he will kill you, Nicolas." Haryek's voice is somber, if not slightly condescending. "There is no running from what's in motion; you picked the barbarians; now you must run with them." Leaning back on his palms, grimacing at the appearance of his damaged skin, he tilts his head away to narrow his eyes at the stained glass surrounding us in the form of the massive windows that look out into the courtyard. 

"Much as I despise dogs, they leapt in to save you when I would have let you die. It's admirable. This whole poisoning thing was nothing personal. You have what I want, and I tried to take it. There is no need for hard feelings; I do quite like you- the real you, that is. The person you showed me before, that's part of your block, I'd say, because this Nicolas? You're more capable than you let on. Being raised in the shadow of more important royalty can be a real... downer."

I'm surprised as Tonic runs across the room and throws his arms around me, keeping hard eye contact with Haryek to remind him to keep the conversation between us. He offers no indication that he would reveal my weakness; I'm grateful for that. 

"I'm so happy you're ok. I knew you would be, we had things set to well for you to slip through the cracks!" He sounded so cheerful; Tonic never doubted me for a minute. 

"Thanks, Tonic. You've saved my life again." I remind him, offering him a small smile. 

He flushes and shrugs. "It was a group effort. Stefan called for Loan, and Alpha found the table."

My heart skips a beat, and I frown as Haryek gives me a knowing glance. "I'll have to thank him later." My tone is half-hearted.

Sota, Adriam, a clothed Victor, and Loan enter the room in an entourage that I'd grown familiar with; it'd seem lycans were always in a pack of some sort. Adriam is seething, his eyes blazing, and I can't help but focus on how smug Loan looks as he stands with those ready to damn me. 

"Tonic, leave us," Adriam says firmly, and with no hesitation, my only friend dashes for the door. "What. Did. I. Say?" Adriam's voice is low.

Victor is patched from head to toe under his clothes. He's the only one who looks happy to see me.

Tilting my chin up, after tangling with the likes of Beta, I've grown beyond Adriam's tantrums. "Where's Alpha?" I need to speak to the man in charge, not Adriam. 

Tonguing his cheek, Adriam balls his fist, and I wonder if he'll strike me. "Alpha. Another love potion, or is this the act you're choosing to follow? For two days our pack has been at a standstill looking for this fucking table!" His French accent rolls strong, his voice nearing shrill with the height of his rage. "To save you! Again!"

"And I'm grateful to you, all of you. But I'd like to remind you, I was poisoned-"

"By the elf, you are helping!" Adriam snarls. "We should put him to death for treason!"

My arms cross over my chest, and instinctively, I stand before Haryek, blocking him from the glower of those who condemn us. This was why I felt it necessary to let them go if I must, yet I think of Alpha's ability to see beyond his raising, and I can't help but hope that there is a path forward. 

"And yet you are here, ready to claim that I'm once more afflicted with a potion? Or were you joking for dramatic effect?" 

Adriam approaches quickly; my body grows rigid, but this is an opponent who does not tower over me for once. We are almost the same height; I might even be an inch taller than him, and in this stare-down, I see that he is lashing out for fear of Victor's safety. It was Adriam who was losing control, Adriam who was beyond reason, and I could hold the high ground.

"You're a brat; you claim you want an alliance, yet you act on your own accord. We are not ready for this war; at this rate, if Ziduri were to launch an attack on us, we would be met unprepared. I will not risk my family's life because you can't seem to get your shit together. I get it; I do. We killed your family; we've taken your home.

 You either need to decide to stand against us or start trying to help us! We are all fighting for the same thing: freedom of our races. If I need to put you down myself-"

"You wouldn't be able to." I shoot back shortly. "So don't for a moment pretend that it's any of your decisions whether I live or die. I am the servant of the Alpha; that is the only judgment I fear, and judging by the way you marched in here so quickly, I'm assuming you're acting on your own accord and without his council. There might be truth in your words but there's also cruelty in your judgment for a situation you can not understand. 

You killed my family; that is where your judgment of me and my decisions should end. It is out of my love for my people that I am helping yours because, in a way, you are my people. In that, I can assure all of you that if you decide to kill this elf with no trial, our goals for this war are, in fact, incredibly different."

Sota takes a large step forward, and Adriam lifts his hand to stop him. "Don't touch him, Sota." The French man snarls. My heart sits in my throat, and I knew my fate would have been sealed if Sota had reached me. "You're right, we are acting on our own, which should bring you pause in that we can act just as easily without the command of the Alpha. Out of respect for him, I'm allowing you to live, and I feel you don't comprehend what thin ice you tread."

While it would have been easy to succumb to their words, to give in and take the abuse and punishment, I knew better from my time in court than to fall prey to such tactics. If Beta wouldn't dare kill me without permission, I had taken the gamble that this trio wouldn't dare act on such impulse, either. 

For once, I'd gambled correctly. "You've told me all I need to know. I hope you understand that I am grateful you saved my life." I conclude, refusing to break eye contact or yield to the intensity of the honey-colored eyes. While Sota appears to be considering what to do with my body, my words must have affected Adriam, for the French man shakes his head in disbelief before gesturing to his group to follow him. 

It does not surprise me that Loan goes with them; perhaps he had wagered that he would be a more obedient replacement for me. Inhaling sharply, I slump back against the table, and Haryek pats me. "Well, it appears they hate you."

"Shut up, Haryek." I mutter, pinching the bridge of my nose, only to stiffen as Tonic appears. 

The wolf trots in through the door, timid as he approaches the table to allow Haryek to climb onto his back. "I've.. been instructed to take Haryek back to the rebellion."

"That would be for the best; please take care of him, Tonic. He's vile, but he's broken, and his people don't see him as the monster that he is. Returning him will bode well for us with the rebellion; make sure they see you and keep the story straight. Don't let him run his mouth." I instruct the wolf, earning a chuckle from Haryek, who seems more amused than offended. 

"See... this Nicolas might be someone to watch out for." Haryek muses, grimacing at the pain in his leg as he settles onto the wolf's back with a timid grip of his knees. "It's brutal, and it might just kill us both, but isn't this so much more fun than being the outsider to your family? I eagerly await your next move, Nicolas."

"Hard to take you seriously when you're curled up like a virgin; try not to look quite so terrified, Haryek.. enjoy the broken leg." I mutter and allow myself to finally breathe as they disappear.