Verando removes my hand from his chest; I try not to focus on how he lingers just a moment too long before releasing me. I can't look at him, unable to bear it; though we've decided the other isn't the right match, it's harder than ever to picture him with the red-haired woman. Even if it's pretend, it hurts all the same. Those light eyes bore into me, almost accusing me as if somehow I thought this was what he wanted. 

"I didn't need your help." He grumbles, keeping his tone low, a quiet hint of defiance. 

Setting my jaw, I tilt my chin up at him, snorting in amusement. "Well, it seems like I went ahead and helped you anyway. You did a wonderful job making a scene, so there is that. So much for a low profile."

"You're such a brat." Verando grips my coat, yanking me to him roughly as I press my hands on his chest. "Want to run that by me again?"

"Gentlemen." Marcus injects himself between us, shoving us apart while I swallow back every ounce of desire that'd leaped into the forefront. Feeling Marcus touch me, I recoil, still reeling from last night, still sore. Marcus seems to almost feel as though I'm being dramatic, laughing me off nervously while Verando's expression changes as he watches my face. 

I force a smile, running a hand through my hair, "Right. Speaking of scene.. here I am entertaining lycan rage. It's plenty of excitement for one day; let's eat, shall we?" I push the discomfort off, turning on my heel as Marcus insists on taking my arm. 

______________________________________________________

We settle down to dinner at a local restaurant; the dim lighting bodes well for our large guards; it's easier to settle into a corner while melting into the background when it's dark. Seating ourselves by a window that looks out over the pier, Verando picks the spot with his back against the corner so he can observe.

 Penelope sits beside him while Marcus and I take the opposite side. Riding the horse helped loosen my tight muscles, though I still ached in a way that made me cross my legs and sit more on my hip.

 The smell of fish cooking and the various vegetables makes me realize how much I miss city life. We'd spent so much time on the road and in other people's providences, so it felt good to finally sit down to a meal provided, one where I might even have a say in what was prepared.

 I glance at my companions, who look horrendously out of sorts, frowning at their discomfort, it would appear I was the only one looking forward to a meal. "What's gotten into you three?" I ask, raising a brow as the waiter takes our drink orders. 

Marcus takes my hand and kisses the back of it. 

"We were slaves for over a decade. I can not speak for Penelope but for us," he glances at Verando with a reassuring smile. This is not something we have experienced. As children, this was not a part of our world, for we could never have afforded it. It wasn't long after that when we were captured. It was a novelty, but an uncomfortable one. We aren't exactly welcome here." 

Verando sighs, glaring out the window as if he'd rather be anywhere but here. "Don't be so dramatic, Marcus. It's just hot in here. It's like a bloody sauna, and I can't smell a damned thing through all this elf cologne."

I would think Verando would be excited to get to relax, but true to form, he never relaxes. On edge all the time, it wasn't in his nature to take a breath and enjoy something like this. After the display this afternoon with the citizens of this town, I imagine he wouldn't let his guard down until we'd left. On the other hand, Marcus seems willing to try it. However, I suppose that was the difference that had attracted me to Marcus. 

Nothing had to change in my life for Marcus to fit into it. 

"Take it as a chance to enjoy yourselves for once. It's a luxury, god forbid. We're like normal people." I thank the waiter as he brings a bottle of wine and pours it into my glass. 

Penelope purses her lips, "Just feels weird. We've been fighting for so long. It's not over, not by a long shot. There's so much to rebuild, is it really right to be in here enjoying a meal? We don't have places like this where I come from, either."  I'd forgotten Penelope had come from the poor countryside; restaurants were probably few and far between. 

"I think it's a good thing, though. We've earned a break or there will be nothing left of us when this is over. Would we really be human if we just waltzed back into life, with no remembrance of our deeds? No, but we also won't be able to return from the depths if we spend all day there." Marcus pours himself a drink and takes a sip. "To us. The unlikely victors." 

Everyone toasts but Verando, who opts to keep his opinions to himself. 

I frown, trying not to let it get to me. When I look at him, it's hard to not envision the broken man, drunk off of his ass, in the shower. The man who looked afraid of me, like I was the monster when I'd been the one to save him. Much as I wished for him to play along, this side of him had been gone to me, and I was pleased to see his 'Alpha' persona returning. 

We eat, and the conversation is decent, even if it's just the three of us. I relish having friends, for this was something I'd only get to do with the children of our allies, and I couldn't reasonably consider them anything but acquaintances.

 A band playing soft music in the background helps the wine flow. We talk about what we're going to do when we get home and our hopes for this new life. Marcus wishes to return to Spain, though he could be persuaded to stay; as he elbows me, I can feel the weight of those light eyes boring down on me once more.

Familiar yet distant, checking in to see how I felt about the Spanish man remaining by my side. 

 Penelope insists she'll travel now that the passport ban will be lifted; she never could have afforded to cross territories. 

"What about you, baby?" Penelope elbows the sulking warlord, who exhales roughly at the idea of such conversations. I'd be angry if he didn't look so uncomfortable, causing me to wonder if maybe his shoulder was bothering him. 

"Don't call me that." His tone is hard, irritated. 

"Come on, we're married now, right? What are your plans? Want to travel?" She winks, taking a sip of her wine. 

"I'm going to find Tonic and take him home. After that, I'm not sure what I'll do." He glances back out the window, pressing his lips into a thin line. Marcus reaches across the space to ruffle his hair through his toboggan, gaining a murderous look in response. 

"So somber. Find a woman, make more angry children, settle down, and live your life. It's what Marisol would have wanted." 

I cringe almost in unison with the English man. The tone was different, insistent, and as if there was no place for him here. It was nearly as if Marcus was staking his claim on me, that the spot of doting lycan lover had been filled. While I wanted to speak out against such claims, Verando stiffens and I note a man eyeing out from across the room. 

He approaches our table, introducing himself as the mayor of this city. When he pulls down his hood, he reveals that he's an elf though I could tell by the thick cologne coupled with the way he is dressed. 

"Good evening, I'm Mayor Oris Kelfir. I've been told by some of my men that there was a disturbance today and that you are all here on official business from the new Lordish, Lord Haryek." 

Clearing my throat, I nod, not bothering to extend my hand. I have to remind myself that I'm not a child; I'm royalty. I'm the last face of Dezna. "Yes. We are. I'm Nicolas, Prince of Dezna, the last heir to the throne." I gesture around the table. "This is Marcus, Verando, and Penelope-" 

Oris cuts me off, lifting his hand to point in the direction of the gray-haired man casually. 

"Oh, Yes, I know who he is. I don't recall his true name, but a gray-haired Lycan going by 'Alpha' surely caused quite a ruckus in these parts. Interesting to see the rumors are true, how exotic. What a beautiful lycan in deed. You surely do not disappoint. And, did I hear correctly, you are here to celebrate a marriage? To a magic user of all people? Divine."

Verando rumbles low in his throat, and Penelope's hand dives under the table to squeeze his thigh, encouraging him to reel it in. 

"Yes." I'm annoyed at the intensity of his gaze. Oris practically salivates at the value of the property before him, leaving it to an elf to appreciate oddities. I don't like the way any of these people look at my companions; to them, they are only equipment to be admired. "Verando is wed to Penelope; they met on the battlefield."

"Love at first bloodshed.." Penelope says sarcastically. "Which means neither of us appreciates talks of 'value.'" She spits, coming to the man's defense. 

"Truly remarkable," Oris says with a grin. "Oh, it would be divine if you all would join us at a get-together I'm having tomorrow evening. Your boat doesn't leave for a few more days, and I'm sure my friends would love to hear about your travels and this new law being enacted. Did I hear correctly? Lycans are to go free?"

"Yes," Verando says sternly. "Effective immediately. I'd watch your tongue, Elf. A man has been killed for much less than the words you've uttered today."

"Chills." Oris purrs. Elves. Everything is entertainment when you live for centuries. "You're everything they said you'd be and so unique, gray hair and blue eyes. I bet they paid a pretty penny for you." 

Verando shoves his chair away, standing abruptly. I can feel the heat radiating off him as a low growl rumbles in his throat, his body shakes, the wolf threatening to claw its way out. Penelope stands quickly, pressing her back to his chest as if somehow she could hold him together should he explode. 

The room falls silent, and Oris's eyes glimmer with excitement. "Now, now, we wouldn't want to start another war, would we? We're all allies now, and I'm merely complimenting you. Excuse my... rhetoric; I'm still growing accustomed to this whole freedom aspect." The elf had been hungry for a display of power, but he seemed satisfied with what he'd received. 

"I'm sure the mayor meant no offense; you know how eccentric elves can be."  Marcus tries to soothe our warlord, urging him to sit back down. 

"Yes. Eccentric. I admire rarities." Oris leans into the light; his eyes are two different colors. "And, well, lycans, as we know, are dwindling in numbers. It seems only fitting that you gain your freedom while there are any of you left to enjoy it. Such a waste; I've always appreciated- well.. never mind, I see it might not be the right crowd. 

Still, Nicolas was it?" Oris turns his attention to me. "You're all welcome. Since you are now ruling Dezna, we will be trade partners, and I'm sure everyone would be delighted to meet you and your company. This little town rarely gets war heroes and such decorated ones at that. Everyone truly is excited to hear all about this war of yours." 

"We will think about it," I tell him quickly. 

I watch as Penelope carefully wraps her hand around Verando's wrist, pulling him back into his chair. Her hand disappears under the table, and my subconscious scowls as someone else comforts the man I've longed for.

 Oris nods to me and smiles. "Do consider. It's marvelous to meet you all, please. Your meal is on me. Enjoy your stay here and, of course, your honeymoon." He twiddles his fingers as he leaves us to continue making his rounds; the effeminate man makes my skin crawl. 

"What an asshole!" Penelope scowls. 

Marcus frowns. "There are still slaves here, Pen. Liberty can only travel so fast. We are lucky no one has attacked us yet. It's best to keep a low profile. That was a flex of power, and he's just letting us know that our presence has not gone undetected."

"He's not an ally, that's for damn sure," Verando mutters. 

"Still. Let's see what this party is about. We do have to come back here. I'd like to know what the locals are thinking, and we would do better with his support." I sigh.

 Penelope is the only one who looks eager to join a party. Much to my surprise, she'd want to go at all; it was a novelty to her. 

Both lycans think it's a bad idea, but what other choice do we have? We have to find out who we can trust and who we can't.

 Leaving to head to our new inn, we walk in silence, raw from fighting for our lives in battle and now fighting for our dignity in the streets. It's better quality, and Penelope claimed it had better beds. The whole place does look fancier, and with the extra money Verando earned, it'd be nice not to be so uncomfortable. I wasn't sure I could do another night in those horrid beds, though the idea of returning to bed with Marcus had me on edge. 

"Why don't you get angry like that?" I ask Marcus as we get ready to turn in for the night, wishing I'd had my room and contemplating what Penelope's looked like. 

"I do. I just don't let it come out as he does." Marcus grumbles, irritated with the topic. 

I frowned at his accusing tone. It seemed to be pointing out the problems with the wolf more than an understanding of his brother's nature. "Why can you control it, and he can't?" 

"Different breeds. Different wolfs. Different people, mi amour. I don't have feral blood in my body. Before we were lycans, when the moon controlled us, I locked myself away and changed in private. Others took part in the festivities." He thinks for a long moment, running a hand through his hair as he takes it out of his ponytail, shaking out the heavy tresses of curled black hair. 

"Werewolves, Nic, weren't good people. The universe has a way of saying enough is enough. Werewolves ate and bit people; they ruined the lives of those who didn't ask for the curse. By cursing us, your father saved thousands of lives. It seems like a small price to pay, at times." He tells me, smiling sadly. "Sometimes I think we were better off locked up, not loose on the streets, super powerful and dangerous. What would have happened if.." 

Marcus shudders, tossing his shirt onto the bed with a heavy sigh. "Verando has always been hot-headed."

 I found his thinking quite flawed and, frankly, disturbing. Nobody deserved to be enslaved, not when we could have used resources to help manage them better.

 "I feel that those who phased and 'ran' are much more aggressive than those who have never had that opportunity. Verando and I are very different; it's difficult to compare us, so I hope you'll stop trying. " 

 I don't know if I agree with him on this. Nobody deserves to be enslaved because of what they're forced to become. "Excuse me."

 Leaving the room, I tread lightly down the hall. I want to talk to him, check in with him, and assure myself that we are both okay. Knocking lightly on the room number, there's no answer. Listening quietly, I attempt the doorknob only to find it's locked. Verando must not be in the mood, let alone expecting me, given my current interests in his brother.

 Marcus has been pretty upfront about our relationship. I decide Penelope is my next best bet, fighting with myself as I walk to her room. 

How can I cope with this? I miss him. I'd hoped we could be friends, but it seemed like he was growing more and more distant. Not that I could blame him, not with how I'd acted, and not with how I'd toyed with Marcus in front of him to insight some desire in me.

 I open the door. "Hey, Pen, can we talk?" Only to stop in my tracks at the sight before me.