Pushing open the oak doors, I find that very same warlord sitting on the tile floor of the great library, surrounded by papers. Flat-backed, as if the man could slump, he is calculating as he observes what he has created in the intricate paper display. The illumination of candlelight playfully dances across his tanned skin.

I slowly approach, and my eyes wander over the papers, carrying the map of our country—Dezna, Ziduri, and then the massive expanse of the kingdoms of man. There are a few question marks on the papers, but no marks reveal that he knows about the rebellion.

"What are you doing?" I can't help but pry. 

Alpha doesn't look at me. "Planning. I was here looking for your father's book. I thought I smelt magic. It seems I was mistaken." 

I scoff at the thought. "You can't smell magic." I retort. "That is absolutely absurd."

Almost amused, he resists the urge to look up at me. "You can't, but thanks to this curse, I can. It smells like burning atmosphere, it's horrid." 

Sometimes, I forget he has an accent. Pursing my lips, I glance over the library, longing for the time I used to spend here. My biggest complaint was my lack of an engaging schedule. "If you find it, it will destroy you. Very few people can handle it."

It's his turn to scoff, but he doesn't entertain me, and I wonder why I'm even bothering. The reminder that I need him to like me floats to the surface, and I force a smile. Handing him his plate, I raise an eyebrow and gesture to his prepared meal. "Here. It would be best if you ate something. You can't boss me around if you've starved to death, and I need to fulfill my promise to serve you, so... here. Served."

His light eyes skim the plate, but he shakes his head, "Not hungry. Maybe later." 

"You can destroy the world later, but you can't not eat." 

 Rigid, he seems to find little humor in my meddling in his habits. "Wolves don't eat as often as humans do. I'm used to it; it only seems to bother you." His tone is becoming annoyed, and I snort impolitely as I set the plate on one of the tables to cross my arms over my chest. 

Sensing my need for an argument, he places his pen down, standing abruptly to tower over me again. My mind drifts to the force with which he spun me around in my room and how the belt felt across my backside.

 "We are designed not to need to eat, so when I tell you I'm not hungry, you should thank your father's abilities to remove even basic instincts from what used to be a human. Now. Leave me."

It cut me to the quick, was there anything he didn't blame me for? The same could be said for me, though I'm not sure how one could compare our anguish. If I was going to get him on my side, I needed to push through to see how close to him I could get. 

"You can't honestly think you can do all of this alone. Your people will be slaughtered. Even if you can make it past Ziduri, too many of man's armies will be waiting for you."

Belting out a laugh, its abruptness catches me off guard. His gray hair is tangled from his fingers dragging it, his shirt splayed open down his sternum, as the flickering light of the lanterns plays off the sunkissed skin and the pale color of the shirt. 

"And you are the one to advise me on battle tactics? How old are you, really? How much war have you seen? Your people didn't have an army. I think you need not worry about what I do outside of this city." 

My throat catches, and I want to strike him. It hurt more than I wished to admit to him; he'd wounded me twice in the same breath, and I was crumbling from it. I wanted to hurt him back, to lash out, to make him regret belittling me for merely trying to make some sort of peace with him. 

"Okay, if you're going to be a complete asshole, this isn't going to work!" I shout at him, earning a low growl as he slowly approaches in a stalk; I swallow but stand my ground against the overwhelming figure. In the dim light of the library, he looks absolutely menacing. 

Soundless as he approaches on bare feet, I swallow back the thought of him spanking me. Why was it that when men treated me poorly, I wished to take them to bed? Maybe he would punish me again? 

"What is it, pray tell, that you're trying to make work, Nicolas? Apparently, my earlier demonstration did little to tame your tongue."

 I shake my head, adjust my shoulders, and breathe out my excitement on the topic. I can't let him know how much I was thinking about it. "You can't win on your own. You're going to need help. You need our help."

"That's why you're alive, to persuade your people-" 

Testing my fingers, knowing my magic would not help me here, I prepared myself to make my bid. I was tapped out, totally drained. My default would have to be what carried me through these negotiations. There would only be my initial plan remaining in my defense: "You need more! Magic users. You need to find a way to partner with the rebellion." 

It comes out before I can stop it, and I know I've said too much. But if the goal was to gain his interest, I had succeeded. 

As he approaches, I curse, backing away until I hit the table, placing my hands on it. His body inches from mine, not touching me as his hands rest beside mine; one of my hands slides up to press to his chest to distance him from me.

I feel myself panting from the intensity and nature of my intentions. As my eyes trail down his throat to the exposed portion of his chest, where the spattering of chest hair teases me in the dim light, I find myself at odds with the devil on my shoulder. 

I'd always been comfortable with who I was, though it had broken me more to think I would spend this life alone, for finding a man who was willing to love beyond the bed chamber was few and far between. Often, it seemed this was the only way to scratch the itch, to satisfy the urge. 

A man such as I had needs that only other sinful creatures seemed to fill, and while I knew hell's fire would burn especially hot for someone like me to consider a man like this, I was ready to leap into the pyre for a taste if it meant he might see my side of the bargain. 

"Care to repeat that Nicolas?"

I have to turn this around, to gain control over the direction of this conversation.

It rolls on repeat in my head: I've said too much too soon. I had grown confident in my time with Tonic, concocting my plan to use Gena to spy on Caspian. I had felt as if I were in control, only to realize that I had only been playing with minor characters. 

The true mastermind, the genuine threat, was here before me. My throat burns, and I instinctively lift my hand to guard it, though his eyes give no intention beyond his desire to drag information from me.

I struggle for words; I can't breathe with the inferno that is his skin. "You're going to need to form an alliance." 

Convince him. 

"With whom?" he demands. "You're being awfully vague for someone who spoke with so much conviction."

With a scoff, I gaze up to his eyes, tilting my head to the side as I reluctantly drop my hand, "Are all of your business deals formed in such close proximity?" If he showed any interest, I knew that I stood a chance. 

Caught off guard, Alpha retracts slightly to his fingertips, then straightens to his full height with an expression that might emulate embarrassment. Not expecting the reaction, I catch my tongue between my teeth as I dare try to lick my lips.  

In my time playing the game of seduction, a man hadn't had this much influence over me, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't enjoying the novelty. The lines of his collarbone, his full lips ever so slightly parted, and the gray stubble of his beard that looked like it might feel rough against my skin, I'm shocked to find there are pieces of this warlord that are precisely my flavor. 

"Say your piece and get out." Alpha retracts away, wary of me. 

"The rebellion. You can help each other; they aren't here to kill the Lycans. They want the same things you do, to see the fall of Ziduri and order restored."

I can't read him as he takes a step back to consider this, stroking his chin as his free hand rests on his hip. I watch him pace, biding my time, and if he comes back to me, I might have a shot at this. He wouldn't be the first straight man to react out of desperation.

The good thing about men was that I was one, and I knew how frustrating the courting system was in our era. A lycan slave would have known on the beds his mistress would allow, and considering that we separated the males and the females, opportunities would have been slim among their ranks. 

A good, god-fearing woman of any status wouldn't have risked her position on someone else's servant, but some within my own fold felt the need to sully their reputation it would seem. Low-born women might be convinced, but I suppose I was no better to give into my desires as easily as opportunities arose. 

 "Take me to them if you are so convinced." The threat is real, his voice a terrifying amount of calm. Alpha was calling my bluff. 

I was afraid of this, and Sota and Tonic had warned me about it: "You can't hurt them. They aren't a threat to you but could be an ally." I stayed strong in my tone; I wouldn't allow them to be slaughtered. This was where I needed to get him on my side, to see my reasoning, and to make another promise of safety for those outside my city limits. " Besides, why on earth would I trust you so willingly?" I exhale.

Quicker than I can process, Alpha draws closer again; I smell the scent of pine and lavender soap. To my surprise, his lips trailed near my ear, his voice was a sultry hum, and he spoke to me in a tone that no man has any right to utter to another man. "I don't think you are in the position to tell me what I'm allowed to do or to speak of trust." 

The damned English bastard. 

He is so painfully close to me, his warmth comforting my chilled fingers as I press my hands to his chest to insist upon distance. I gaze up at him with my own dark eyes; I remember Tonic speaking of the wolf within, that urges were difficult to erase, and the wolf knew what it wanted.

"You could be luring me into a trap; you're quite the cheeky little thing." He muses, making me swallow back my desire to taste his lips.

My comfort had come from familiarity, not with any of the words we'd spoken to each other, not with my sympathy for his plight or his regret for killing my mother. We were two strangers, dangerous to each other and yet needing the other to live just a little bit longer. 

He hadn't run from me yet; swallowing back my hesitation, I wondered how far I could push him and how much of this I could take. "As if I could outwit the infamous Alpha. Bring a few men.. come and talk with them. Hear what they have to say before you pass judgment; there are obviously people on my side of the aisle who feel as you do. As you say, no one stopped you..." 

 I carefully tightened my fingers on the thin material of his shirt as his body stiffened, wary of me. The raspy growl echos in his chest as he clutches one of my wrists, cautious of my intentions. I part my lips, inhaling sharply as his grip loosens and my gaze lands on his mouth. 

"And what would you gain in return for such an arrangement? What's in it for you?"

I keep my expression soft as my plan begins to form in my head; I know what is needed of me to bring him to my side. As sexual creatures without an outlet, we were both victims of our nature.  

I hadn't expected him to ask me that; while I pause, he smirks, amused by my hesitation, as the backs of his fingers drag across my cheek. Smacking his hand away, I glare at him not to touch me. "My people need protection; if you're on their side, that's a guarantee that I won't have to worry about them until you leave. Even if they're rebellion soldiers, most of them are my people.. and I owe them my best effort."

"Is that what this is? Your best effort?"

While it wasn't my preference to kiss, I found myself stretching up on my toes, using his shirt as leverage to pull him down to me; I hovered my lips cautiously over his. Alpha hesitated, and I wondered if he would pull away. I'd been wrong before, and if they did wish to take me to bed, most men didn't want to kiss another man. 

"Does it matter what this is if we both get what we want?" I mutter, baiting him with my mouth, chuckling breathlessly at how suspicious he was. 

The majority of men found comfort in the soft submission of our cultured, schooled women. Even if the forbidden desire existed, inexperience and bravado often ruined the encounter once lips were involved. Yet I could think of nothing else other than how his mouth would feel on mine, and I found myself pleading for him to kiss me. 

He meets my lips with what appears to be great restraint, molding his lips against mine as I tilt my head with a slow inhale. 

"Fuckin' hell." Alpha exhales, deepening the kiss, invading my mouth with his tongue. Even when it's my idea, he is the Alpha and fights for control of the situation. His hand finds my lower back, gathering me against his body; I flush at the height difference and clutch him for support. 

The stubble of his jaw sends a shiver of excitement down my spine. I could pretend I performed these tasks only in service, but the thrill of the unknown never failed to send me into an almost euphoric state. It is my disgust with the pleasure I take in the act that sends me spiraling when the deed is done. I would never forgive myself for this, but I would accept these terms if it got me what I needed.

I hold my own against him as my hand travels up to fist in his hair, eliciting a low growl. My heart rate skyrockets as I loosen my grip with a gasp. Alpha lifts me onto the table; I latch onto him as he brings me to his height. Wide-eyed, we regard each other, uncertain, as he pants against my lips.

 His hips are between my legs, and I feel his arousal pressed against me through the thin material of his pants. 

"So you do have a fascination, have to admit, I'm surprised.." I comment, crossing my legs behind his hips, earning a groan of frustration. 

"What're you doing to me?" He murmurs against the junction of my neck and jaw, pressing a soft pattern over my bruises. "Must you insist on talking?"

The uttered words almost make me pause; I hesitate as my fingers trail through his thick hair, and he's practically human for a moment. I remind myself promptly that he killed my parents, and any sympathy plummets. "Well, without the commentary, how would you navigate such a task? You're.... hmm... how old are you, Alpha?"

"Spoiled brat." Alpha chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. 

My body takes over. I want to finish this and fight to get his shirt off. "Just don't lose your nerve; you better not be some bastard who stops halfway through; I hate a tease." I groan as he rakes those deadly teeth over my skin.  

 He hurriedly pulls my vest off my shoulders. I freeze and stop him as his hands find my stomach. My eyes shoot open, and I hold my breath. "Leave the shirt on." It's not a request but a plea. Embarrassed, I curse at myself, muttering a half-hearted attempt at an apology as I reluctantly start peeling my shirt up. I can't interrupt the flow; I can't risk him backing off when I'm about to gain my leverage.

Alpha stops my hands, brushing his nose against mine as he coaxes my lips against his. "Leave it on," his voice is rough with restraint. "Given my advanced age, I'll probably come instantly, anyway, darling. It's best not to waste the effort, yeah?" 

While I'm pulling back with a horrified expression at the suggestion, he grins in a boyish fashion when I meet his gaze, and I can't help but allow for the smallest giggle. What a strange man.

 Dimpling his cheek, he unhooks my pants, and I knot my fingers in his hair as I attack his mouth. 

 I'm grateful for not all men are so courteous about my strange boundary. I shove his shirt off his body, fingers skating over his muscular abdomen as he removes his pants. His hard body captures the warmth of the dimming lights; the feeling in the pit of my stomach burns down to my depths, and I can only mark it up to nerves. 

Sex with a lycan had to be tamer than sex with a dragon-turned-human. 

The darkness hides his scars well, and I wonder if it would do the same for me. As I stand, I remind myself this is my show, pushing him back toward the structure of a different table and using his height to my advantage to pin him to the edge. 

I drop to my knees before him; my mouth hesitates as I take stock of the appendage before me. "Scared?" He asks, making me taunt him as I stroke my hand up and down his length. 

"Not in the least." I'd had worse; kissing the tip of his cock, I passed my tongue over the head before taking him into my mouth.