It was true. This feeling I'd had, it would seem he intended to give my kingdom back to me. This hits me with a level of surprise that threatens to floor me, taking everything I can muster to keep my face composed. I can't allow my face to crack, not here, not in front of these people who wish to end us if they saw fit. 

Me?

It was never supposed to be me. My father must be rolling in his grave at the thought that I would replace them as the King of our territory, the standing king of one of Romania's most powerful communities. 

My throat goes dry; I blink away the shock and nod. While I sit here, overwhelmed by the proposal, all I can think is that my time is slowly running out. Not my life or moments of freedom, but moments with this strange, irritating, infuriating, incredible man. 

I feel myself sag. 

3 weeks.

 In 3 weeks, he will be gone, out of my life. There was a time I would have rejoiced and said it couldn't come soon enough, but now I'm at a crossroads. Nobody had ever believed me capable of much of anything.

 In my training with my siblings, I had never stood out as exemplary in any task. Fencing, art, music, and any gifts my siblings were blessed with had fallen short of my skill set. I sang much like a wild animal in a trap, I played instruments on par with the hearing impared street beggars. 

Regarding the arts and politics, I tended to fall relatively short in creative nature and influential pieces. I was apathetic, coasting through this life as if I had known that it wasn't meant for me all along. I read and baked when I could, sampled wines, and attempted to be a placeholder for a human when necessary. 

Some of me had even been understanding when they sent me away to a school I could never return from. Their mediocre son, who couldn't even be married off, would no longer be their problem. 

Yet, here, I had begun to thrive. 

I had sprouted into something more than I'd ever thought capable, beginning to grow and develop; I had friends, even if they were few and far between. I was finally becoming someone who didn't look like a stranger when I looked in the mirror. At this moment, thinking of the end, all I could think of was how desperate I was never to give this up. 

The euphoria of the damned living among the sinners. The captive clinging to the captor. I was intoxicated with the thought of living this life, of having a life worth living.

"Alpha." Haryek starts, using a patient voice. "You will all be killed if you take on the kingdoms of man." He emphasizes the multiple kingdoms as if Verando might not understand this. Part of me wondered about his intent for the warning; I could only assume it was to prevent his protection from offing itself. 

There would be no returning from that battle, so few could not stand against so many. My father hadn't even been foolish enough to try. 

"There is no glory to be won there. You could go on in peace here." He gestures with his hand to our nation, trying to show him the ample space he would have. "Live out your days in your home land, humans are not a bother to us, human's are not going to come after us." 

The collective laugh between Verando and Loan makes me pause.

 I didn't believe that for a moment, and I could see that my warlord didn't, either.

There is no great look of malicious intent. There is only certainty; he had picked his path, and he would not deviate from it. 

"It would be easy, wouldn't it? To stop, to acknowledge that I have done what no one thought possible and that I'd freed a large portion of my people. But there would be no victory in stopping here. Not whilst most of my people remain slaves in their kingdoms. Their wolves are locked away, there is no one to show them how to free it and control it. 

Until the curse is broken, every untrained Lycan is a ticking time bomb, and it won't be long before they are calling for our heads more than ever. Man is weak but they are smart, they will come for us if we don't come for them. You're all fools if you believe they aren't waiting to see if we all kill each other before they make their move, and I'd like to remind you that vampires and werewolves walked free until they sent bounty hunters after us.

Magical beings are slowly becoming a myth, and I won't sit by and wait for them to find me. Lycans are illegal, gentlemen. I can not walk freely in these streets; there's a call for execution if I try to go home, and that is why I can not stop here. This is not my home; these are not my people. My people are suffering, and I must go to them. " 

His hand drifts to the expansive kingdoms. Weathered and worn, the scarred knuckles draw my eyes almost more than the various rings on his fingers. 

"This is nothing compared to what will come once word gets out that Lord Darrius is dead. This land will be up for grabs; we are a prime target. Men are frightened of what they don't understand; we are a nation of oddities and at odds with each other. Look around and ask yourselves if you wouldn't take advantage if you saw fit." 

Of course, Loan did not agree, but he came from simple means. I knew that my father would never have hesitated to take over more lands when it came to men. But, their numbers were so vast that fights with them never panned out without large losses of life. As magic users, we couldn't stand to fight in expansive wars, for there weren't enough of us. 

We would wipe ourselves out long before denting the forces of humans. We were surrounded, one of the last magical regions, we were going extinct, and it'd been talked about long before now. Magic was banned in many human cities, they would come for us eventually. 

Haryek lightly taps his lower lip with his index finger, raising a perfect brow. "And what say you for your brothern when this is all over? Hmm?" He tilts his head, translucent locks tipping and swaying as he observes us. "Would you dare say that you would then be the next big threat? What happens to all your lycans when this is over? You've bred a war culture; what happens when you're all united?"

"Hayrek!" Loan spits, bewildered by the elfs boldness. This does not surprise Verando as his arms flex as he settles back into the chair, solid in his stance. He was entirely aware of the fear he would leave behind in his wake. 

"What?" Haryek mewls, pursing his pouty lips with the smallest of grins. "I'm only suggesting that we could be showing all of our cards to our next adversary." His eyes flick up and down the tall male in a lingering curiosity as his teeth drag over his lower lip. "We should ask these questions now before we all get in line to bow down to a new dictator."

Disgusted, I want to get up to leave, but Verando holds his hand out to stop me. "My kind will be searching for a cure. Then we will be gone, a bad memory. If a cure is not found- well, perhaps you should be quite focused on finding it? Nothing will hold back my rage if I find out that I am stuck this way for the rest of my days. Immortality and what have you, I suppose I'll pay each of you a visit." His dark voice doesn't phase me; I'm used to it now. 

Propping my cheek up on my fist as I slouch into my chair on my elbow, I wonder how many more times they needed to prove to themselves how lethal this man was. How little he cared for their cause if it served him.

"Can you spare us the theatrics? I'm working on a cure; we'll find it, so this is all truly moot."  I groan, earning a rumble of a growl from the man beside me. 

Haryek's right-hand elf panics, gripping his sword. "What gives you the right to threaten us?"

I want to highlight that there would be nothing left to cure when this was all over, that marching on man would spell the end of the lycan race. I want to reassure them that this was a non-issue, a final threat of a man with a death wish. 

Verando must know. He must know that there was no way to cure him. 

"Because he's our only chance at winning this, and he knows it. Stop waving your cocks around and get on with it, we get it, you all hate each other. Can we please move on?" I demand, my tone rough with restraint. 

They exchange worried glances, for they do not know him. Verando wanted them concerned about his return, for it would mean that they would do whatever they could to keep their borders safe, which would assure the safety of their people. Which, in turn, would keep Man busy while his kind disappeared should they survive. 

He would subconsciously arm us with fortresses meant to keep him out, and it would save our lives. The reality was that Verando would die in battle, there was no chance he would return to make good on these threats. 

Uncertain of if he'd made the right choice, it would appear I was at the apex of everyone's trust. His eyes continued to trend toward me, confirming I was still comfortable with such terms. 

 It baffled me, what had I ever done to make them believe I had good judgement?

"Our leader will be here within the week; I'm sure he'd love to hear your speech. We need defense; we need an alliance. We can't afford to be caught off guard again, even if it's just training until your people move on. If you're going to go on another war path, we'd take any training you can give until you go." 

 Haryek nods in agreement, they might not like Verando, but he is single-handedly running an army that took down one of the most powerful beings in the world. His young warriors went from common slaves to machines that ran and functioned in mere months. 

Time is not on our side; we don't have long to make the same leaps with our people.

With Haryek's silence, I assume he thought the same thing I was. There would be no lycan to return to make good on any threat. Haryek was testing the waters, biding his time, trying every angle, and pushing every button to see how serious he was, much as I had. 

Haryek could not be trusted. He showed his hand too often to feel that his words could be the truth.

Yet, in that same strain, the ache curled in my chest again, bringing me out of focus.

 Was I ready to let VVerando go? Could I relinquish the only thing that had pulled me from my emotional solitude? 

Tired of the discussion, Verando waves him off dismissively. "I'll present you your sixty tonight. Go to your people, bring back one lycan to confirm the conditions, and bring your leaders and men. The quicker we do this, the more time we have to train these people." 

Sixty. Sixty was all it would take to defend an entire city. 

In the crystal eyes of the elf prince, I see fear. 

They were getting a grand look at this warlord, and now, there would no longer be any question as to why I sided with him, whether I had a choice or not. My father had succeeded in creating the perfect killing machine; and there was validity in Haryeks' words. 

If he did return, could he turn that army back on us for a new, more familiar homeland?

Any thought in my mind that I was the one controlling him had begun to falter; there would be no room left for such falsehoods. I was not manipulating him to do anything he didn't want to do, so what drew him to aid us? 

Nodding with a slow exhale, Haryek stands, and it seems he's had enough of us as we had of him. "I'll have my men ready in the morning to begin training; we must acclimate to each other. I will have to find a way to distinguish our elves from that of my fathers."

Verando stands as well; I follow him woodenly. My body refused to move, mental fatigue creeping around the edges. "We can discuss this more tomorrow. For now, I have business to attend to."

It's finally beginning, the alliance we were all hoping for, and the count down to when he would leave me.