I had fully intended on killing him, taking his life, and then perhaps swiftly ending my own. But, at that moment, I was unsure if it was my people or my mortality that prevented me from taking his life. 

There's a chance that beyond the discomfort of my childhood and the atrocities of the schooling I endured, I value my own life in some way, a strange revelation.

Alpha had permitted me to take his life; to finish what I started. I hardly knew him, yet I could imagine that for him to concede in such a way, he had to know that his life rested in my palm. 

"Hardly a man," I murmur to myself. That statement might be just compared to someone who was a mountain of muscle. I was thinner than I should be, lighter skinned than my tone suggested I would have been; he should have killed me for attacking him. 

My mind drifts to his injury as I scrub my robe, kneeling in the washroom. The red refused to come out; my father's blood had destroyed a precious garment, and there wouldn't be an opportunity to get more. This would mean I only had two left, three years of anguish, and three robes were the best they could do. 

I laugh, sickened, as I imagine his shoulder. The deep marks, how they stretched from his chest to his back, what they must have felt like to endure. There was hardly a man to look at in this damned city, at least if I was going to bathe him I could appreciate the figure he offered. 

Disgusted, I throw the scrub brush back into the bucket, falling back only my hip with a scowl. "Disgusting, Nic..." I exhale, shaking my head in disbelief.

Considering the men I'd slept with to make it through school, the man who murdered my family was hardly off-limits, and the insanity of such a fact had me silently praying for damnation. I hadn't been to prayer since I'd gotten home; my mother would say that's why such impure thoughts had returned. 

She never could pray away my affliction. 

 I don't allow myself to feel her presence as I pull on the white long-sleeve and intricately detailed vest. A variety of colored squares line the trim and the front. Sliding into the pale pants, I feel a little more like myself. I could put the mask back on, return to who I was supposed to be, and devise a new plan. 

As I open the door, I jump back, confident that I am face to face with Alpha, only to see I was mistaken. He is tall and gray-haired, but he is much younger—only in his early 20s, close to my own age of twenty-one. 

His body is lanky, like that of a young man who hasn't quite come into his own yet. His dark eyes peer at me shyly through his tangle of hair. He is afraid of me, and I'm pleased by that; it would seem that perhaps Alpha had warned him, or maybe he had been trained to fear magic users from his youth. 

In his twenties, he would have been a slave for most of his life. 

 He reaches up to brush his hair back out of his face. A long, thin scar cuts through his eyebrow and goes straight down his cheek, but the eye is undamaged. The scar only distorts his features, giving him a rather fierce look that his kind eyes can't carry. 

"I'm here to bring you to dinner." His voice is low and deep but timid. He avoids eye contact, staring towards my hip instead of meeting my gaze.

Rolling my eyes, I push past the tall man.

"I am perfectly capable of bringing myself." My voice is harsh. 

It's as if he wants to be shorter than me, which is difficult, considering I'm not very tall and he's over 6 feet. 

Is it part of the standard of the Lycan army to be gigantic? 

 The young man's eyes follow me as I walk down the empty hall. All of the paintings had been stripped off of the walls, and in my own home, I felt like a stranger. "What?" I demand. "Aren't I a prisoner? To what do I owe the expecting look of my captor?"

The tension puts me on edge; he flinches away from my cutting tone.

"I'm uncomfortable with this arrangement... and I'm sorry for what happened here." He is cautious; the look on his face suggests he isn't happy with our situation either. His tone and sympathy remind me of Gena. I briefly wonder where she is and if she's safe.

Frowning, again, it was not as I expected from what I was led to believe these men were. Would I genuinely hate them so much if my mother hadn't been a casualty? Tilting my chin up, I push the thought to the back of my mind, unable to allow any more humanity to fall upon these lycans. 

Opening the large doors to the throne room, my sympathy for the brutes falls with any hope for their morality. My history books, family journals, stories, and spellbooks. They lay in a pile, surrounded by tinder and kindling, smelling heavily of lantern oil. My feet move, yet Tonic snatches my arm; magic flashes to my hands, but I'm drained from the previous days. 

Not using makes it difficult to build up a tolerance; my body was spent from lack of sleep and food. 

Why? Why destroy it? 

I look accusingly at the man beside me. "What the hell is this? " I demand. 

He looks ashamed.

"A cleansing." The young lycan watches the pile as it is set ablaze. The inferno sparks and snaps, hissing as the spell books melt away into ash, lost forever, along with all their secrets. 

"Where is he?" I shout, crazed as the man pulls the corner of his mouth down in a grim expression. "Don't play stupid. Alpha. Where is he?" 

"At dinner." He sounds as though this should be obvious; as if I was the one who was acting unreasonably. "At least he should be; sometimes he doesn't show up. You can't speak about him in this tone, if someone hears you-" 

I storm past him, charging into the dining hall to greet the vast expanse of lycan presence filling the great tables. The smell of the woods and cooking meat combined with the heat makes my head spin. The young man trails after me, unwilling to act as I spot my target.

Flicking his gaze up, I can feel the arctic glare drift past me to my watchman, who kneels in submission.  "Kneel." The youth snaps at me. 

"I'll do no such thing!" I spit back, kicking him to get up. "And you shouldn't either! This man isn't a king."

Alpha exhales, patient as ever. "My, you certainly have rallied. A little physical labor has done you some good. I'm hoping you've come storming in here with some sort of news on the wear-about of your father's book. " He gestures, and I sit down roughly, chin elevated, as I glower at my captor.

"A cleansing? Explain yourself!" My tone is not calm; I shame my breeding with my lack of control. "Do you have any idea what you've done? What has been burned in that throne room?!"

The older man's expression is what I was expecting: frustrated with my arrogance but amused at my willingness to speak against him. "It's exactly what it sounds like. The paintings are a reminder of the slavery we have endured, the spell books could be used against us and to be honest, I liked tossing all of it in that pile.. think of it as paraphernalia. 

You've been conquered, remember? You don't get to make demands, and I must explain nothing to you."

Leaning towards me, that same steel gaze meets mine, and I wish to strike him if I wasn't so drained. "Do we need to have a reminder of our conversation this morning? My patience is growing thin with your rude behavior."

I glare at the table, trying to comprehend what I've been told, and run a hand through my hair to rein in my anger. I can't do anything about it right now, not if I want to keep my head and those I'm responsible for.

"No." I snap, only to swallow back my dignity. "Alpha."

"Good." Shoving his own plate towards me, I note how little of it is eaten and assume that he might truly become angry if I don't eat. I mutter a thank you, picking at some of the potatoes. "Tonic will watch you until you can be trusted to do your job. Next time, the girl won't get off so easily."

"Who?" But then I realize it's 'mini-me' who he's talking about. What kind of name is Tonic?  "If you did anything to hurt Gena- !" My voice raises, and the overbearing weight of dozens of eyes falls on me; I force myself to rein it in, pulling the burning magic back from my fingertips once more. 

He truly was their leader, and my mouth was getting me too much attention. Murmurs had started, and more and more people turned to look; I was the son of the man who ruined their lives, and my own life had been spared. 

Alpha shrugs, indifferent. "You will what?" He presses.

I take a few bites of my food, instantly relieved because I know who made it. The staff must have been spared. I force myself to remember he's kept his word, and I should be grateful for that. "Please... don't hurt Gena."  The food tastes great, and I'm grateful as my stomach pleads for more. I eat quietly and listen to them talk, refusing to let the relief show. 

Dismissing me, my captor turns his attention to the men who surround us. They look uncomfortable with my presence but are unwilling to disobey their leader; they speak freely. I'm surprised to see that a pack operates much like a court. 

It would appear Alpha runs a tight ship, and some have been slacking with a temporary place to call home. There are talks of a rebellion, and it piques my interest. A tall man sits beside me, even taller than Alpha. His long white hair goes down to his hips, and it's pulled back into a loose ponytail. He looks older and middle-aged, but he is muscular under his shabby clothes. 

His eyes are a startling yellow, much like the moon on a hazy night. I'm astonished that he only has one arm; the sleeve is carefully folded in his vest.

"The formations have been able to move pretty freely through the city, and we have been met with little resistance. We have taken out over twenty magic users. They swore their allegiance to Lord Darrius, and we have taken care of them. Any other magic users are now in hiding, I would assume. I don't think they will reveal themselves with so many of us in the city.

The people have cooperated; it won't be long before we figure out where the rebellion hides. We have left the houses intact, raided some of the libraries, and burned any magical books or art pertaining to the royal family." His voice is low, deeper, and tired sounding.

"Tell the Twins and Delta to go towards Ziduri and search there. We don't want to be spotted by any elves just yet, but I would not be surprised if we found the rebellion close to their borders. Crossing and revealing our position would be easy if they felt threatened, so keep the pressure off. They did not make a move when Dezna fell, I'm imaging they are biding their time.

 We need to ensure that formations stay tight and that patrols are not missed. This young stock is useless; they need more training."

 Alpha looks frustrated as he rolls his knuckles in his fist; the whole thing sounds barbaric. I'm still reeling at the fact that the libraries I grew up in as a child are now empty, and they truly were going to wipe out anything my family had touched. What hurt the most was that my people were standing aside, and I couldn't find it within me to blame them.

Lycan slaves were supposed to bring my region back into prosperity, but instead, my father sold them to become infinitely wealthy while people starved, waiting for aid. It was a lie to tell Alpha I didn't know what my father had done; I just didn't want to believe it. I couldn't believe that someone as kind as my mother would stand aside and do what the propaganda claimed. 

How many of my friends were dead? 

The white-haired man nods. "We have not seen any elves. I have instructed the men not to allow any witnesses. We cannot afford a leak. I will give Beta the order to double down on the training of the younger groups; they are not useful to us in battle if they cannot control the change. Besides, they can't cause trouble if they are exhausted." 

I realize that the yellow-eyed giant is looking at me now. 

"So, who is this, and why are you playing with your food?" He sounds annoyed at my existence. "I had agreed the young son would be kept as a servant; I didn't think you'd let him speak to you as if you were still his slave. The men will talk if they see this behavior; you know that, don't you?"

Alpha shrugs. "I have no idea what his name is. I didn't ask." Taking a roll off of my plate, he takes a bite, curious of me. "He's the size of a mouse. I doubt any of these men truly take his words seriously, and he didn't attack. He's just loud and young. How would you discipline someone so small? He'd die."

 I'm not too fond of the look Ol' One Arm is giving me. "Nicolas." I offer nothing more, ignoring that they talk about me while I sit before them. 

"He's rude." One Arm doesn't approve. "Spoiled. Wealth is wasted on the ungrateful. Look at how he looks at us like we're scum. Maybe take one of his eyes? A few teeth? You can't beat royalty, they will crumble but you can maim them... they value their beauty."

I hear a chuckle. 

Alpha is amused, but the glare from One Arm silences him; he looks unapologetic. The thought of them removing parts from me makes this all too real, and I place my fork down; I truly hadn't considered it an option. 

"Beauty... So you think I'm pretty?" I manage. 

One Arm snarls, and Alpha places his hand on the man's shoulder. 

"He is going to be useful when we find the spellbook; he is going to help us reverse the curse. Besides, it will raise morale in the city if they see that he is alive. We don't want to kill this entire city. We need something for the world to focus on when we finish. If there is nothing to rebuild, they will search for us." 

I'm appalled at the thought that my people would once more stand aside; the truth of it hurts more than the statement.  Considering I heard no talk of a second force, it would seem that my country was willing to let my father's region fall to lycan rule. 

 "They will search for you anyway! I will command it!" I snap, horrified, broken, devastated. "You killed the Lord Darrius! He ruled the entire magic community; you don't understand what you have done. What you have started! As the Prince of Dezna, I will demand your head the minute I'm free of you, so speak as freely as you wish for now; it is I who will have the day when this is over."

 One Arm stiffens, but Alpha raises his hand, regarding me with a calm sweep of his gaze. 

"Patience, Sota. He will learn. Listen to me carefully; the magic community is grateful that your father is dead; we have done what nobody has dared to do in over one hundred years. There is no remorse in the community for the death of their corrupt king; I think the entirety of Romania is pleased with their freedom from this year's tax bill; kind of genius, don't you think...?"

My appetite is all but gone despite my previously famished state. It was incredibly smart to plan this attack only weeks before the collection; I'd heard the court complaining about the books, that fewer and fewer people would be able to pay, and that crops had been terrible this year. If anything, the lycans probably looked like liberators. 

Why was I trying? Why did I even bother? What was there to fight for?

"Cunning, I will say. A fox in the hen house, yet have you looked in the library and seen the plethora of pelts? I am not worried, Alpha. I'm going back to my room." 

Tonic stands with me, following in silence. Though I hear the tail end of the angry conversation behind us, a thousand eyes settle on my throat. I sigh, slowing my pace as I leave the throne room. The smell of burning wood and the smoke billowing off the burning books causes my eyes to water. 

He looks afraid when I finally meet his face. His lips continue to part, he takes a sharp inhale, and then he stops, repeating the process over and over like he had something he wished to say. Wheeling around, I cross my arms over my chest, glaring up at the giant look-alike.

 "Somebody has to stand up to that asshole. I can see it on your face; you're trapped here just like I am!"

Tonic looks like he might not answer, but he finally speaks. "Nobody speaks to Alpha that way; it is... unnerving... to see."

 I roll my eyes. "Someone needs to. He acts like he's the new King! Doesn't anyone see that we are trading one lunatic for another? My father was vile, I understand, but that man has-" I feel childish; my inner self is sticking out his tongue and pouting. Wrapping my arms around myself, it as the commitment to his threats that chilled me the most. 

"I just.. don't know what to do. He's going to kill my staff if I continue this way, but I can't stop when he acts as if I'm the lowest form of life. "

"Speaking to him in that way puts him at risk; others might try and threaten his position due to your outburst. When we fight for rank, we fight to the death. If Beta had been there, you would have probably been killed."

"Is that why they call him 'Alpha'? It's a rank?" That seems a little ridiculous; I couldn't imagine going by anything but my given name. "Seems inhuman..."

"Somewhat. It prevents attachment since most do not hold the rank for long. Before the curse, it was easier; we weren't forced to live in a pack, but since the change, it's been hard to get used to the wolf side of things." My bodyguard looks uncertain as if maybe he's saying too much.

 I find it interesting that there is a chink in the armor. They weren't adjusting well; perhaps I could play to my advantage. If I could turn them on Alpha, his creatures would kill him for me and I wouldn't have to get my hands dirty. 

"What is your rank?" I can't help but pry. 

Frowning, he glances at the ground, his dark eyes distant as he scuffs the tile with his boot.

"I'm an Omega. It's the lowest rank, the punching bag of the pack. My mother was a very lowly woman, practically a prostitute. My father was very prestigious, but it didn't carry over. I've never wanted to fight, never been good at it." He shrugs, and I realize that I'm frowning.

 What a miserable life; this delusional man seems fine with it. 

"I'm sorry to hear that." A slave who is 'free' to be a slave to his people.

 A small smile comes onto his face. "It's ok. Alpha takes care of me; I've known him since I was really little. He keeps me close by so I live comfortably, well much as a slave could.. until now. I don't remember much different, honestly." 

Disturbed, I decided that Tonic has a mental disorder if he is content with being the lowest of the low.
Offering a small smile, I bid him goodnight, rushing to my bedroom to flop on my bed.