Displeased by something, Alpha tips his gaze to the bath suspiciously. 

I roll my eyes at the hesitance, "It's water. I know you slaves rarely bathe, but there it is. Just get in."

 I opt to leave, startled as he grasps my wrist. I flinch away, trying to wrench free from the iron grip. "You could use your words! What gives you the right to grab me?" I snap, watching this animalistic man in bewilderment. Cold flashes to my hand, but I'm already beyond exhausted from carrying the buckets. 

Nothing goes unnoticed. I'd need to be more careful if I didn't want him to realize just how stunted I was.

"Did you never learn manners in this ivory tower?" He retorts. "Have you truly so little sense about what has happened here? What the stakes are for such atrocious behavior? I could gut you where you stand and yet you dare to look at me as if I am the one who should be afraid?"

 I wince as I struggle against his grasp, feeling his fingers bruising my skin. The truth was, I didn't care what happened to me; my obedience was the only part of the deal I'd negotiated, and I didn't promise to smile while I did it. "I'm trying-"

 Alpha belts out a sharp laugh, making me flinch. "Trying!" He snorts, "Did your family allow the lycan's you cursed to 'try' slavery? Did you allow your servants to try their trades? You have been conquered, less I display the consequences once more-"

"No!" I shout, sucking in a sharp breath as he glowers at me. "Please.. I am trying."

"It's not good enough. Your effort is not good enough." Looking over me, he releases me with a shove, pushing me back towards the tub. "Prove it, bathe me. Perhaps then I might believe you understand your new role."

My stomach twists in knots, and I take a quick step back, nearly slipping into the basin. "I think you are up to the task. It is quite simple. I trust you'll figure it out," I respond, and his expression clouds with the look of that of a predator. 

The thought of my instructors giving me tasks for which I could pay them for their 'tutoring' thickens my throat. My heart gallops in my chest, my pulse pounding as I feel the panic of what might happen to me in my deceased father's bathroom. Yet, looking at this man who was the picture of a masculine barbarian, I can't help but feel there is little about him that suggests I would be his preference. 

His face is tame, his eyes unseeing in that there is no interest in what lies under my clothes. He wished to humiliate me and that I could endure.

This vile creature wished to reduce me to the lowest form.

 "Undress then!" I command, gesturing to his clothes. The low rumble from his chest makes me flinch, I swallow back the fear.

"Is that any way to speak to your Alpha?" His tone is patient and yet restrained. He looks at me as if I am dense—an uneducated youth of a great Lord. "When I was a slave, I was forced to undress my masters, shameful job as it was... now, let's see you play the part. I wish to be bothered by this as little as possible so hurry up." 

I allow my eyes to travel down his form. He is a mess, his clothes and skin covered in dried blood and grit, the smell of masculinity, and the woods emanating from him. It offended my nose and my eyes all in one, yet I knew it was what he was hoping for. I wouldn't crack, not now. 

"As you wish, Alpha." I try not to sound sarcastic as I throw in a half-hearted bow. My long fingers look ghostly against his dark colors, and the stiff material of his garments is rough to the touch. I unbutton his vest, pulling it off of him. 

The leather is worn and aged. It is a handmade garment with crude stitching that offers little protection for the large form it conceals. I fold it and set it aside, ignoring the patience with which he regards me. As I approach, I gesture for him to put his arms up and pull his stained shirt over his head, only to gasp at the sight of him. 

His discomfort is visible in the task that involves raising the injured arm at the same level as the other, but I'm short, and the angles are difficult to make the transition smooth. 

Jagged scars stretch over his left shoulder into his pectoral muscle. They're deep, ragged claw marks. His neck bears the scars of a bite wound, deep, light-colored mars on the sunkissed skin. I realize my hands have frozen, and I'm staring, unapologetic at the discomfort my gawking seems to cause him. 

"A gift. From my father." Alpha answers my question before I can ask and his cryptic expression suggests it's a sensitive subject. My eyes travel over the light peppering of chest hair on his broad chest. I notice the hair is gray and look back up at the tangled locks on his head and notice that, too, is gray- not silver. 

He can't be that old, not with this physique.

My hands find his pants, as I unbutton them the shame begins to wash over me, here I am undressing the man who has killed my family. I jerk them off his sculpted hips and allow them to fall to the ground, only to turn away quickly, not allowing myself a glance, and quickly travel over to the shelf to grab a few clothes, towels, and soap. 

The heavy belt and multiple knife sheaths land on the floor with my dignity, a dull thump. When I turn, he is no longer watching me, as he stands before me completely naked, his body taut and rigid. 

Memories of my instructors bring a tremble to my hands as I dip a towel into the water.

My instructor had favored me; I was his pet, for lack of a better word. I shudder at the thought as I soak his chest with the wet rag. He stiffens under my touch, I pause in disgust, but it's not a pleasurable thing for him.

Right, I'm a man, this is probably as vile for him as it is for me.

 I scrub his chest and reveal more and more tanned skin as I rub away the dirt and blood only to wonder how much of this is his own as I reveal healing cuts. We are silent as I wash one of his arms, finding the slightest bit of comfort in the warmth of his skin against my cold fingers.

Running my fingers over the coils of muscle in his arms; his hands are rough against mine. 

With a scoff, he catches my palm and inspects my fingers. I note the various rings and wonder how many have been stolen. "Your hands are soft like a woman; you truly haven't known a day's work, have you?"

Offense boils within me, and my jaw tightens; the work I put in might not have marred my hands, but my flesh was far from pristine beneath my robes. As I finish with his chest, I reluctantly start on his legs.

"No comment?" Alpha demands.

 He's focused on anything but me, staring off into the distance, refusing to acknowledge that a man was cleaning him.

 I move to his back, and once more, I'm floored by the tapestry of what a body can endure. The scars run over his shoulder blade and slash across his back in jagged lines that stretch towards his hips. 

 It was a shame as it must have made his master very disappointed to see it considering he is a fine example of what my father was trying to accomplish. 

The thought embarrasses me, I shouldn't consider this man a piece of equipment, but I immediately forgive myself when I think of all the suffering he has caused me. "You can have obedience, or you can have remarks, but you can't have both." I shoot back shortly, feeling that the expression I'd come to know as his only one returns.

Amused with my audacity, but frustrated at my insistence to be anything but pleasant. 

As I return to his front, I work my way over his toned abdominal muscles and feel the heat radiating off of him on my chilled fingers.

Taking a deep breath before filling one of the fluffier cloths with water to ring it out on his head, I might have thought twice if I didn't find him insufferable. The action brought a startled inhale from Alpha; he jerked backward as if I'd attempted to drown him. His height caused the water to splash down my sleeves in an icy blast, and I came to realize that my healer's robes were not in the best condition after this activity. 

"Well, if you wanted a proper bath, you should have brought a chair. You're too tall to bathe standing; really, you should be in the tub." The complaint is half-hearted as I strip off my vest and robe. Another hard-earned set potentially ruined, I had to devote hours to cleaning them if it was even possible.

 I tuck my silk undershirt into my pants, guarding my chest against his eyes. I do not allow anyone to see my chest, not anymore.

"Men twice your size have been flogged for much less!" He snaps at me, scrubbing out his hair as he grabs the soap. "Have you no sense of duty? Do you truly care so little for your people?"

Jutting my chin out, I glare back at him as I jerk him down to my level. "I can't help but you lack experience in." I reach up to soap his hair. "If you won't get in the tub, then I must make do, and this is the best I've got. If you're looking for me to kneel at your feet and beg for mercy, I'm afraid I'm fresh out of groveling. I'm trying desperately to save my people, Alpha, as is my responsibility as the Prince of this nation. But it is not within my breeding to bow to you, no matter the circumstances."

 His expression darkens with my tone, with the insinuation that I work harder than him.

"I don't think you can compare your responsibility to mine." His voice is low. "If you weren't so frail, I'd strike you down, but I fear as though you'd die from the impact. I can hardly consider you a man."

Have I offended him? I almost want to laugh.

"The responsibility you have to what? Murdering my family? Hardly a man..." My voice is tight; I feel myself teetering on the edge. "You're just really painting a picture for everyone who believes lycans are nothing but barbarians-"

Alpha appeared shocked that I could even fathom a comeback, yet he seemed to be forgetting it was my father who enslaved them, not me. "Your people enslaved mine and treated us worse than dogs; I feel this judgment is just."

 The heat radiating off of him is starting to climb, getting hotter with each passing moment. I take another fluffy cloth and wring it out on his head to rinse away the soap, an act of defiance.

 A low growl curls from his throat, and I toss a towel at him. Done playing this game, I cross my arms as I walk away from him. 

I can't do this. I can't talk politics with him or speak of fairness to a monster. 

"You don't get to- My mother did not deserve to die! You took vengeance on the innocent. She was just helping him! She wasn't going to stop you!" My voice trails; I feel it coming, so I wrap my arms around myself and try to hold it back. I can't cry in front of him; this was not the time to falter, and yet it hurt so badly that I worry I might crumble right here onto the floor. 

"She did not deserve to die," I repeat. "I miss her so much."

"People die every day; your mother was no exception. Any being who owned a Lycan slave was just as guilty as Lord Darius. All magic users, the elves in Ziduri, and the men who sit in the capital of the human cities will all see the same fate as your father."

I wheel around to face him, feeling the tears building as I choke back a sob; it was the first time I'd truly felt anything today; the anger within me wished to lash out, and my hands felt charged from the emotion. "Then kill me! Don't draw this out. Take your vengeance and leave to slaughter another society." 

His body vibrates as he struggles to control himself. We are at odds with each other, and I feel as though I couldn't take these terms another second. The heat is unbearable. I can't help but think of my servants, the ones who truly raised me. Should I perish here, the people of my city would be without hope. "I didn't do this to your people! I can't be a servant to you. These terms are... are... inhumane! You can't just strip a man of his freedoms and expect him to fall into line after losing my entire family! Do you have not a shred of decency?"

Pressing his lips into a thin line, Alpha regards me for a long moment, cocking an eyebrow. "Where have you been the last fifteen years that you have any ability to say that to me?"

I'm taken aback, swallowing back my rage and pinching the bridge of my nose. Much as I didn't want to concede, I knew his point, and I felt the shame mounting within me. Of course, he saw the need to be harsh with me; his family had been turned into monsters. We'd put them to work, sent them away, separated them, how was that any different than what had occurred here?

"I'm sorry." I mouth, deflated. 

Dismissing my apology, my captor doesn't miss a beat. "I need you to find your father's book and destroy it so that this cannot happen to another species. We can not leave until you do so."  

 My eyes search his face, defeated, deflated. There was no escaping this; it would never end, I couldn't say he deserved to die for what he'd done after the curse was put upon him but damn it... damn it all. 

How much more did I have to lose?

 "The book itself is probably cursed, and in that regard, I'm useless to you. I can't control the spells from that book, and even if I could- How can I possibly wish to help you? I understand your lot in life has.. been greatly worsened by my father.. but what son would I be to stand aside and help the man who murdered my mother?" 

I feel myself threatening to spiral, placing my hand on the basin and flinching as the water ices over. Panic is rising, and my mind races beyond what I can keep up with as my chest starts to heave. Shaking my head, I mutter an apology to my family. 

I shouldn't apologize to an animal or try to help someone who conquered my city. This wasn't my fault! None of this was my fault! 

Twisting my fingers, I swallow back the fear and sling my hand toward him, sending a spear of ice through his chest, only to curse that I had missed his heart. Lycans were, unfortunately hardy. I waited for the assault, and yet he was unmoving. It was a triggered response, fight or flight, an unfortunate character flaw I'd developed. 

The truth was, I didn't want to hurt anyone, but the pressure to be someone I wasn't was so immense sometimes it seemed like the only option. 

To my surprise, he seems relatively unphased. 

"Well, at least this is proof that you have some sort of magical ability." Taking a step back, I prepare another ice spear, watching him wide-eyed as he inspects the wound where he'd been impaled. "Terrible aim, though."

Waiting for him to lash out, to attack me, I want any excuse to fight my way out of this and yet, the barbarian is more civil than I am. 

"What kind of devil doesn't react to pain?" I exhale, forming the next spear as I lift my hand. "Do something! Do what you claim! Make me regret it!"

Glancing up at me, a red ting on his lips, his expression never falters. "If you truly have no idea what your father has done to us, then you are more sheltered than I imagined. If you feel you have the right to kill me, then go ahead, such is our culture to take a life to pay a debt. If not, you're welcome to get this out of my chest and act like a damned adult."

Why did it take a lycan warlord to make me feel capable? Permission to act, acceptance that if I wanted to, he would be dead. I told him I could kill him, and it appears as though he truly believed that. 

It's as if I'm breathing again for the first time since he'd walked into the room, I curse under my breath, quickly retracting the shard and slinging both spears back into the basin. The effect had not been what I wanted, in fact, none of this had gone the way I anticipated. 

"Thanks." The sarcasm is heavy in his voice.

With a grunt of displeasure, he places his hand over the hole, fresh blood sliding down his chest with every beat of his heart. I could let him die here, or at least put the lycan immortality to the test, and yet he doesn't come to me for any sort of help. Alpha moves to the door frame as if he wishes to leave, and without thinking, I move to him.

"Why didn't you attack me?" I demand, reasoning with myself that logic was the reason I backed off with so little resistance. My hands smear the blood across his chest as I draw energy towards the hole, smacking his hands away as he attempts to resist my treatment. "Let me help you, asshole!" I snarl, placing my palm over the hole.

"Why the hell would I let you do that?" Alpha snaps back through his teeth, the irony is not lost on me.

 I can always kill him later, for now, his words had cracked through a piece of my shell that I hadn't expected. Pulling my lips into a thin line, I send a heavy pulse into the puncture, muttering quietly to myself. I couldn't prove him right, not today. "Why didn't you attack me?" I repeat.

Alpha rolls his eyes heavily in a way that seems too dramatic for his character. Finally, as the hole starts to close, I look up at him, expectantly. "You finally started acting like a human. I know your people don't believe it, and sometimes it may not appear to be true.. but at one point, I was human, too."

Absorbing this, I take a long and slow breath. The hysterics had never gone away so quickly before, but I suppose I often hadn't gotten a chance to let it. "I'm not my father. And.. you're right. I'm not familiar with what they've done to you."

 His light blue eyes are wide and unsure of me, I must appear as though I've lost all sense. Perhaps I have. "Do you always have so many emotions?"

Shaking my head in disbelief, I shove my hand through his chest, and as I retract my fingers, the wound heals from back to front despite his growl of protest. He's a surprisingly good patient for someone who had to be a in considerable amount of pain. In my time in school, I'd have plenty of practice healing punctures.

 Regardless of how he feels about me, he allows for a hint of a smile.