A party was something my parents would have attempted at a time like this, and a social event before slaughter wouldn't have been unheard of to strengthen bonds in a society like ours. Logically, I could see it, but my nerves were too shot to comprehend it.

 For the sake of my friends, I allow myself to be led back to Stefan's home and hop off my wolf companion, guarding my leg. 

Verando shifts, making me shudder as I can almost hear the bones grind as he becomes himself once more. His naked frame before me makes me flush; unapologetically, I examine every inch of the sinful man before me.

"I wish we were going home." My libido had skyrocketed since my wager, since my realization that I wouldn't get many more 'once more's' with him.

"Come now, don't be a downer. You need to have some fun, pull the panties out of your ass and relax."

 Despite my hesitation, he pushed me into the house, and I was surprised to see that it was somewhat alive inside.

The torches are lit, and the home is warm and welcoming. There's the smell of food, actual food, being cooked, and I ponder what it is. I almost fear Victor is making it, only to notice he's just willingly sampling whatever is available. 

Adriam is putting together a meal from his home country, a bowl of onion soup with some chicken and vegetables for the main course. I'm amazed he managed to find a chicken in these parts but impressed and starving. 

Verando leaves me, I assume, to find clothes.

Our small group had finally come together.

"I figured it was time to get away from the castle and have a night out," Adriam says lightly, though he sounds mildly disappointed. "Your city is really behind the times, you know. There is no nightlife at all. How can anyone have a good time here? Thankfully, Stefan is cultured." Adriam offers my Strigoi friend a small smile.

 I checked the Strigoi over, hoping he was okay with this, but I was pleased to see he was beaming. His house had been empty for so long; for such a social creature, the undead part of his life had been a lonely venture.

Our small group's tremendous heat brings a little life back to his ashy skin. 

I allow myself to relax in just the slightest amount. "When I'm in charge, the first thing I'll do is remedy that," I mutter as I sit at the kitchen island; my mother had always said I could be a downer for such events. Most of the time I found myself a page boy or the Duke's son, Albert, to occupy myself.

 How was I supposed to interact socially and yet remain casual? Nobody wanted to interact with the Prince without a fiance, the one who had no military service, the one who lacked a focus as far as the public knew.

Everything until this point had been so structured that I became painfully aware of my awkwardness.

"I don't think your town is ready for his kind of entertainment." Verando chimes in; I turn and see he's clothed, the long sleeve's open neckline plunges in a V that trends past his collarbone, and for that, I'm grateful. He had no sword, no vest, and his shirt tucked into his leggings and buckled beneath a belt to accentuate his waistline. The man truly was a specimen, and once more, I regretted coming here rather than taking him to bed.

Standing close to me, he doesn't offer to touch me, and I close the distance willingly to let my arm brush his. His presence alone was enough to calm my mounting anxiety, and he spared me my dignity by not addressing my discomfort. 

"Why? Does he tear the place down?" I ask, snagging myself a glass of wine to take a long swallow. If I couldn't fornicate, then I'd drink myself into someone more likable. 

Raising an eyebrow, his cheek dimples with amusement. 

It's Victor who answers. "She can be real party girl." Victor snorts, dipping a slice of bread into the soup pot and wrinkling his nose as he's swatted with a wooden spoon. 

"She?" I murmur, confused.

Adriam cocks a hip and points his spoon at me. "Not everything is as it appears, honey. I don't normally look like this." He shrugs and stirs the pot. "Can't really have a lady running around during an active war, though, can we? Heels in these conditions just wouldn't do." He takes a taste and I stare at him. 

This isn't a known subject for me; I'd never seen a man pretend to be a woman. Stefan appears between us, gazing at the pale lycan.

"You're a crossdresser?" He muses, intrigued as his eyes rake over the shorter, feminine man.

Put on the spot, Adriam considers his answer. "Something like that. I enjoy living as a woman when the town is unaware of who I am, and I don't have to explain it. It's just what makes me happy." He waves him away, and Stefan reappears, closer to Verando and me.

Stealing a glimpse of my warlord, this is no surprise to him. 

How is it that a savage society is more accepting than those who are supposed to be the civilized ones? 

In my time among the population, I'd constantly been shuffled and hidden to prevent revealing my dreaded secret. Here, it was widely accepted by most. 

Verando moves to get us both a bowl and spoon, handing it off to me while I try to calculate the validity of a man living as a woman. "Don't hurt yourself, Nic." His tone is almost teasing and I narrow my eyes at the insinuation. "I told you, Lycan's are a bit.. different."

Victor gets his own and dunks his bread into it. He takes a rather dramatic bite of the loaf and groans in appreciation. 

Adriam rolls his eyes as he chews a piece of bread. "Dig in; it's not often I get to cook anymore. "

 I'm almost offended when I see Verando eating with actual enthusiasm. 

"Okay, what gives?" I've been trying to feed the bastard for months. "Now you eat? This? I'm appalled. It's good, don't get me wrong, but I've tried everything to get you to eat."

The rumbling laughter warms my cheeks, "I raised him." Adriam chuckles. "Sort of, anyway. He knows better than to turn my food down, let's say that." 

Verando shrugs apologetically. "Human food is hard on a lycan's stomach, we're designed to live on very little, and the food you cook is often quite.. extravagant. Rather to eat nothing at all than risk it coming up later."

Had I been making him sick?

Sniffing the bowl of food, it does smell a bit underseasoned compared to what I might prepare. "If you had said something..." Thinking back, I notice that he often would take a single bite before rejecting what I made, or he'd run off with the bread if he did take something. I figured it was because he preferred to hunt for food, which might be the case. 

But I didn't think I was basically starving him out with food he couldn't eat.

"Don't worry Nic, if you fed him too well, he might get fat. He's gotten lazy since you've been around." 

With a snicker, Victor walks over to clap Verando on the back with his massive hand. "Too busy chasing the tail again," Victor adds between bites, waggling his hips in a lude fashion.

"I'm plenty busy," Verando responds shortly. 

Again. 

I almost grimaced, but then, my own past was quite promiscuous. So, for the sake of fun, I let it go and allowed myself to enjoy the banter. 

The back and forth warms my heart. It's almost like a family and I envision Delta, Tonic's blush, and the ever-vigilant brothers trying not to gag. I attempt to be excited that we are here together. It's not over yet, but for now, we are not all lost. While I didn't like Adriam, I could appreciate his love for the man I'd become attached to. 

I savor the taste of the food and the warmth, for I rarely see Verando relaxed or even hear much from Victor. Periodically, I glance at Stefan and am pleased to see he's enthralled with these creatures. 

Their existence among humans must give him hope. Adriam dives into a tale about Verando when he was a child, and it warms my heart to hear him call him 'Randy.' Not only was the brute a notorious ladies' man, but he would also play horrible pranks on his sister, Temptrest. He was a tyrant as a child, and I never expected anything less from someone so calculated.

But he was also kind to others and often acted as a voice of reason for their group of ruffians.

"Where is Temptrest?" I ask casually.

The mood shifts and Verando frowns, glancing down at the empty bowl in front of him. "Who knows? I haven't seen very many women of our kind," he responds almost too quickly. 

I instantly regretted my prying; for all I knew, she could be dead, there was little value in lycan women, for they were sterile. Men considered using them for prostitution, but their nature made them poorly maidens. 

Taking a deep breath, Adriam clears his throat. "Tempy is tough; she's alright," he reassures the gray-haired man.

Clapping his hands, Stefan distracts us all; I jump at the suddenness. "On that lovely note, what's this I hear that wolves can sing? I've heard Tonic sing a little, and he says all wolves can sing?" He swirls his glass, of what I now smell is wine, his eyes scanning the three lycans.

I take another swallow of my glass, finishing it off.

Adriam grins, flashing his perfect white teeth in a beaming smile. "Some are more gifted than others. That one," He tilts his chin towards Verando, "Actually sings fairly well. Many a duchess was lured to his chambers by the siren song he can produce. If he weren't a werewolf and then a lycan, he'd be famous, I'd say."

Dismissive, Verando is in little mood to participate. "Not much anymore," the warlord grumbles and grabs the bottle of wine, taking a swallow off the top. Sighing in relief, I take it from him, following suit. It was nice not to pretend here, to act as I wished, and right now, I wanted to drink straight from a costly bottle with little care for the drink's bouquet. 

Unshamed, Stefan pleads openly. The dim lighting in the home reflects off his pale skin, causing his eyes to glitter dreamily as he focuses on the gray-haired male. I can say that I can't blame him; there were times when the man could be quite charming. There was allure in the brooding lycan.

 "Oh, come on! I'm a music connoisseur! I play almost every instrument known to man; the least you can do is sing for me if you're going to drink all my wine!" Stefan complains, his voice light and hopeful. "Serenade me, good sir!"

Ruffling Verando's tangled hair, Adriam bumps him with his hip. "Come on, Randy." he encourages, leaning on the counter beside him and grabbing the bottle out of his hand. He takes a long swig and rests his head on the larger man's shoulder.  "We are going to drink all his wine." He reaffirms. 

"I'd like to hear it; I've never been able to sing." I press, offering him the bottle with a shy smirk and earning the silence of the room as he regards me for what seems like an eternity. Accepting the drink, I feel the buzz as I lean back into one of the chairs with gratitude for the ability to slouch.

Everything ached from the battle; my body fought back with a vengeance for my treatment of it. 

"For you, I will." Verando starts slow, in a low tone. Adriam straightens and smiles as he joins casually, obviously a familiar song to him. To my surprise, Victor carries the baritone. It appeared to be the truth, when one started, they had to follow along.

Stefan disappears only to reappear with a violin. "I love Irish songs." He gives them a melody; I can only bear witness, for I was so unadept to play music that it would have been an insult to attempt. 

The song is about death but their tune is so joyful, I almost don't notice the words. Stefan follows their lovely melody perfectly, and I find it hard to think of it as a sad song. It dawns on me that this is the divide between us and them; now, it seems, Stefan is one of them.

 I found it odd that the Strigoi accepted them so quickly, but it must be because they come from similar terms. Forced into a life that they didn't ask for, the Lycans don't view death as the end; it's the beginning of their eternity. 

It was only me who was stuck with the inconvenience of mortality and all its shortcomings.

Pulling me out of my stupor, Verando gathers my hands and brings me to him, surprising me as he whirls me around the room in a sort of makeshift waltz. Joyous, I can't help but laugh and envision that any maiden subjected to him would surely succumb. He truly was a charming man, and the way he looked at me could almost convince me that he felt the same. 

I was never a good dancer, but I don't feel shy here, I allow him to guide me and marvel at his happiness. Adriam joins him in the melody, leaving Victor to harmonize as Stefan begins to lower the tone. The song starts to come to an end too soon for my liking.

They all join together for the end verse, and I briefly realize I'm probably the only person here who can't carry a note. 

Stefan sets his violin down and claps. "Well worth the wine, boys! Well worth it!" He calls excitedly.

 I blink, breathless, and brush my hair out of my face as I focus on the stunning, smiling man before me. I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him, catching him off guard. The catcalls make me flush, and I break the kiss as I capture his eyes. Panting, our mouths rest meer inches apart, and I so desperately want to kiss him again. 

He seems intoxicated by my very presence. 

"You are quite short, darling." Verando teases me, lifting me so he doesn't have to stoop quite so far. 

I'm practically swooning, and it's an uncomfortable feeling as I squirm out of his grasp and feel the color rise to my cheeks. "Alright, alright.. don't lift me like some damsel when we're in public," I grumble, dragging my fingers down his chest as I step away to clear my head. 

Most of the night is overflowing with songs, stories, and genuine happiness. 

We run through folk songs, and though I don't offer up my horrid voice, I am good at clapping along to the beat. I'm just as happy being a guest at this concert as I would be to be a part of it.

 Though bittersweet, those who have passed eventually work their way into our minds, and I find the night ends the way it began. With the same sad song, only in a more somber tone in remembrance of our lost ones. 

I miss Tonic and I think I'm ready to go home, the others seem to read my mind. 

Stefan yawns; he hasn't had this much company in a century.

"I'll have the guard bring Tonic by," Verando reassures him, and Stefan nods. 

"I'll be here." He chirps. "It was truly a lovely evening."

Adriam and Stefan exchange cheek kisses. I laugh as Victor and Verando quickly depart to avoid the formality. I kiss Stefan's cheek and hug him. "Thanks." I breathe against his shoulder. "For always being you, for always bringing people together. You've always been there for me, even when you didn't have to be."

"I'm proud of you, Nic.. and thank you, for letting me see these victories. I know you'll be a great King, and I'm thankful I can live long enough to see it. It makes this endless night somehow worth it."

While everyone is tired and trending on intoxicated, it's a fun walk home as Victor has to carry Adriam. The small French man is rolling in his arms, belting old-time Broadway-style themes and getting the occasional shush, which only seems to egg him on. 

"I've picked the wrong job. I should have been a star!" He purrs and clings to Victor's neck. 

"Biggest one we know." Victor chuckles.

 We part with the Russian as he totes our resident diva off to bed, and I'm pleased to find that Verando follows me to my bedroom.

 I turn to him and tug him out of his clothes as his hands explore my body, slipping under my shirt and causing me to catch my breath with the warmth of his palms on my sides. He catches my lips, and I press against him as I kiss him. Yet, I'm surprised to find that I'm perfectly content.

 My libido posies like a jungle cat, ready to strike, but I call it off with a well-timed yawn, earning a chuckle as he drags his nose under my ear to brush his lips against my neck. "So impossibly human for someone so powerful." Verando exhales, collecting my cheek as he kisses my hair.

Today has been long, and I'm pleased to find he follows my train of thought as I guide him to the bed, and he curls around me under the down blankets.