Asena eventually fell into a fitful doze. Her muddled nightmares lured her with the aroma of mouth-watering dishes she'd never tasted. Caught in a web of soft caresses and the weight of a hard body, a chill froze her blood until a blaze enveloped her. Other times, she lay on the edge of an abyss that seduced her and urged her to jump into its depths, but she managed to evade those deadly temptations. Yet a shadow blotted out all light and swooped towards her.

As it caught up, she sat up, clutching her chest. Her heart, akin to a trapped bird, trashed against her ribcage. Every beat tested the strength of her bones.

'I'll take over,' Moggie suggested.

Frustrated, she shed the skin for Moggie to don the fur. Thanks to her beast's nocturnal shenanigans, she missed breakfast. After a bath, a weary Asena went to the kitchens. The kind cook rustled up a tuna sandwich for her.

As she ate, Asena watched the staff. Based on their varied enunciation, they hailed from the lands between the English Isles to the far reaches of Serbia. Today, they buzzed with excitement as two of them were taking part in the auction.

Unlike the cluster of human countries, Europa was a vast kingdom. It stretched from Iceland to Russia, and downwards to the Mediterranean. And its residents traveled far and wide for work.

'So, Europa is a melting pot, too. Big deal. But immigrants are second-class citizens here,' Moggie grumbled.

When she wandered to her quarters, the grumpy matron, overseeing the cleaning crew, shooed her out.

Asena joined the rest in the parlor and waited for their 'teachers'. After four placements, seven of them remained in tier one or two. She still hadn't figured out why they'd been sequestered separately.

The conversations there were equally loud. Why? 'The Chronicle', an entertainment publication, had released its annual list of eligible shifters. It featured a few individuals from Asia, the Red Sea to China, the Islands nations, and the Caribbean. And a few 'enemies', from the Americas, along with their allies, Australia, and New Zealand.

Duma waved to her. Asena plonked her tired ass on the sofa beside him. He showed her a photo of a werewolf with gray strands in his mane and laugh lines.

She glanced at the write-up about the distinguished Were. Lord Daniel Rutherford had come out of the closet. As his family were the earliest supporters of the Sax-Coburgs, he'd divorced. And instead of exile for flaunting his orientation, he'd emerged as the symbol of a 'progressive' Europa. But he had already fathered six heirs. She wondered what happened to his former mate, who he'd discarded.

"So that's him?" she asked instead.

Duma nodded and flipped to the page that displayed the individual she was avoiding.

The candid shot of the incredibly masculine physique, encased in shredded muscles. And a freaking eight-pack was... Glittering water beads clung to him; as he stood knee-deep in a pool.

'Oh, by all that's unholy and sinful, it's him, and he's almost naked!' Moggie howled with shrieky mirth. 'Cover your eyes, Sena... lest you go into heat.'

"Zip it, Mogs," she mumbled under her breath but she sure felt hot under the collar.

Asena couldn't help but study his wide lats, enormous chest, prominent shoulders, and bulging biceps. His slim waist defined his taunt stomach and pelvic V. Each inch of him was perfection personified.

'So that's what lies beneath the stuffy clothes. And guess what? Under that smexy skin simmers an inferno. I doubt he ever gets laid... unless it's with another dragon,' a disinterested Moggie commented.

The writer stated those who knew him insisted he wasn't arrogant but 'nice' and 'shy' with a wicked sense of humor. Prince Nassau had a fan following, and the paparazzi adored him.

'They're making up stuff. He's nothing like this.'

Asena squeezed her upper arm where his grip bruised her. The discoloration and swelling had subsided, but the sore flesh throbbed. Not to mention her blistered fingertips. Given shifters healed exponentially, he sure had left his mark on her.

When Duma tossed the magazine aside, Asena picked it up.

An article distracted her from Drach Nassau's near-nude glory. It comprised a political expert lambasting the 'axis of evil' of the dastardly United Sifters Council of the Americas. His opinion didn't surprise her. Europa's residents were subjects of the largest monarchy. The aristocrats from Asia and parts of Africa supported Sax Coburg. Yet Europa grew increasingly isolated as it refused to join the Global Shifter Alliance.

"He's so handsome!" a Nassi twin squealed as Bebi waved Charles Matthias' photograph. "Pity he is the enemy."

Asena disagreed. Matthias Junior had interviewed her. His slick charm and generous pay package hadn't impressed her. His illustrious father served the Republic, but the son was a selfish collector. She was a clog in a machine with a virtuous cause—preserving their kind. She would not hand it over to a power-hungry Alpha Prime to leverage. A simple creature with simple needs, she had no use for higher pay or a bigger residence.

'His scent was weird too... something about Charles Matthias was off,' Moggie added. 'But Vic had a mad crush on him.'

When she finished reading the magazine, Asena noticed Bebi was holding court.

"He is the sole heir, and his ex-mate couldn't bear pups."

Bedi spoke with a clipped British accent. It didn't resemble the diction of the Scottish and Welsh fox skulk that'd migrated to their pack. She also embodied confidence that dressed gossip as facts.

"He'll do, but my mate has to be of noble blood, and my equal, so it's a pass," Bebi boasted. Her orange gaze settled on Asena. "Have you found anyone, Asena?"

Duma stiffened at her condescending query.

"No," Asena replied.

Bebi pressed on. "Are you keen on the auction for the highest bid?"

Victoria had always defended her against the likes of Bebi.

'Vic isn't here,' Moggie declared, stating the obvious.

When Asena didn't respond, Bebi persisted. "I heard you spurred a suitor?"

Asena sighed. "I did."

"And you rejected him. Why?"

"It didn't work out."

Her blasé response triggered Bebi. 

"This is why you do not belong here, you ungrateful bitch!" she yelled.

Startled, Asena wondered why this lioness hated her. They hadn't exchanged a single word since making their acquaintance in Sahel during the Long Walk.

Political instability and escalating conflict in Burkina Faso, Mali, and Niger drove them both to Europa. Asena's parents hailed from the same region, only they migrated decades ago. But that was why she elected it as a cover story. But the situation had only gotten worse. The spread of Boko Haram, and the food insecurity that followed, had forced Bebi to seek Eros. But that didn't explain her disliking Asena.

Duma barked, "What is your problem—"

"I wasn't speaking to you." Bebi spat at Duma. "You're an abomination. Why don't you die? Your ancestors' spirits lament—"

"Bebi, enough!" Asena commanded. "You made your choice. I made mine. Duma made his. So what is the issue?" she asked, fed up with this nasty female tormenting Duma.

"He is an—"

Asena's patience snapped. "Shut your pie hole!" She slapped her palm on the table with such force it stung. "Individuals like you are why Duma's here. How dare you bully him due to his sexual preferences? He doesn't advertise how he's been persecuted, but he was." She lifted her nose in the air and sniffed her disdain. "I'm sick of you harping on how you're so self-sacrificing. Why? You want us to hero-worship you. Sorry, love, I don't care for you one bit."

Asena did not lose her temper or get into arguments. And she had never lashed out—until now. The enraged rant surged out as if a dam burst.

"Why do you target Duma? Because of whom he's attracted to. Or coz' he's the competition? He's snagged a lord. What about you?"

The Nasi twins whispered amongst themselves and Bebi glowered at Asena.

"You're both whoring yourself—"

"How does that give you the right to bully us or dictate our purpose?" she snarled.

"You and the Nasis can't stop declaring you're too good for all this. You have the airs of a princess but are miserable... and desperate, and that's understandable." Asena waved at Duma. "So is Duma, but he's a sport. I'm trying to deal with the same, and Quan isn't, yet you are singling us out because you think you're superior to us. Or is it because we aren't wagging our tails and fawning around you?"

As she delivered the cutting taunts, her tongue dried up and her pulse raced, but to her shock, she had more to say. 

Bebi opened her mouth, but Asena interrupted her. "You forget, we aren't your dad's entourage. You and your regressive beliefs are not the moral authority around here. Keep your sick notions to yourself, or risk others returning the favor. What's admirable is Duma doesn't wail about the trials and tribulations he underwent in his homeland. You do. Maybe you're jealous of Duma. He's doing this for himself. Is that what offends you? That he's free to do as he wishes to be and you can't!"

"Yes, unlike you both, I am sacrificing myself for my pride's future." Bebi's voice cracked as if she was in tears. "Hence, I am a cut above the rest, especially you."

Unmoved, Asena went in for the kill. "But you're ashamed of stooping so low and that upsets you. We are not and have retained a degree of independence. Deal with it. Here's a newsflash, sweetling, to expect empathy, extend us the same courtesy." Having said her piece, she walked away.

Bebi aired her woes to an audience to extract attention and sympathy. Asena kept her counsel and confided in a select few. She steered clear of queen bees. Strangers presumed she was cold. But a solitary feline from a pack dominated by werewolves had lent her a lifetime of experience dealing with drama.

Asena sank to the bench by the window to fight off a panic attack. She nearly jumped out of her skin when Duma sneaked up and patted her back.

"I'll hazard a guess, she's crying a river," she said.

He snorted and stayed until she calmed down.

Bebi didn't show up for lunch and the matron admonished the rest by reminding them of the expected standards of behavior. Asena pretended to be remorseful and dainty nibbled on a tiny bite of the partridge.

In the mess hall at home, they all lined up to fill their plates. Fights, arguments, and tossing bones on the floor earned them detention. But even she enjoyed the chatter of a hundred shifters, of all species and ages, converging for meals. It was a boisterous affair. She didn't participate in the conversation, but the smells and sounds signaled all was well in their pack.

Here, meals were solemn affairs, and lessons about using the correct cutlery. Matching drinks with various meats, spices, and gravies. Dinner settings.

During the afternoon class on the code of conduct for females, Bebi chose to sit beside Asena. "What if you aren't selected?" she asked, with saccharine sweetness.

"I'll find a job."

"There is no greater honor than propagating our kind."

"Hmmm." Her reply didn't deter the nosy female.

"Duma should sire litters and you birth as many as you can. You both are failing your purpose."

Bebi's brand of self-righteous smugness irked Asena more than she anticipated.

'She's a traditional fanatic,' Moggie growled.

"Are we? Who died and appointed you alpha? Here is a term you ought to learn. Free will. May Gia bless you, Bebi, with many cubs. Let me be." Asena was conflict-avoidant, according to Moggie, a coward, but today she had no qualms—

'You've adapted. The last two years have changed you,' Moggie purred, her moods violently fluctuating.

Curious of Bebi's motives, Asena asked, "We've taken dissimilar paths. Why is it so important that I walk on yours?"

"You both are unworthy and make a mockery of this program," Bebi roared.

The matron cleared her throat. Usually, the discreet staff didn't interfere, but they observed the participants' every waking moment.

Bebi gulped and glanced at the camera mounted on the wall. "You're undeserving... and he shames our tribes. His tribe should have gutted him. In the Savannas I would have, and earned praise for ridding them of the humiliation." She spat to express her disgust.

Asena laughed. "That's not very lady-like, is it, Princess? Such threats and tantrums are not tolerated in high society. I prefer him over you any day of the week. And why shouldn't I? I like him more than you, but I hope you find whatever you are after, and we don't meet again. You pointed out the error of my ways, but I am beyond saving. Now fuck off."

Bebi flounced out.

Asena exited the parlor, too.

Duma followed her. "You love Duma too!" he squealed and hugged her.

"What's love got to do with anything?" she grumbled.

Exhausted by the argument, she withdrew to her quarters. There, she cocooned herself in the duvet and hid under the bed until the matron shooed her out to attend 'classes'.

She spent the afternoon cursing the arms of the clock ticking too slowly for her liking. The beauticians massaged warm oil on her and scrubbed her with sugar granules dipped in honey. With heartless ruthlessness, they peeled the top layer of her tanned skin.

'Tell them their life doesn't depend on rubbing out every blemish. Those are freckles. They're permanent and normal,' Moggie moaned.

Asena loathed every moment of the primping.

Evening tea included a presentation on the numerous territories and eminent families. Asena didn't bother taking notes. She struggled with rote learning, but if she understood a concept, she could apply it. Formulas she grasped, but her recall of dates and names left much to be desired.

She concluded that royals, irrespective of their economic status, preferred isolation. Seeped in false pride and archaic traditions, they formed alliances amongst their subspecies. Or other elevated but equally inbred bloodlines. Worse, they snubbed destined mates for political unions.

'No wonder their numbers dwindled,' Moggie commented.

Except they blamed it on the War and the Rebels. Félix Ashkenazie Sax-Coburg banned the breeding harems and outlawed the practice of capturing females to mate. But Europa still employed the demeaning designation 'omegas' for unclaimed fertile females. The pressure to procreate resulted in girls who hit puberty being impregnated. That too, prior to their beast ascending. This was the norm until a decade ago. Even now, a few independent packs in the Americas, the Old Country, as Papa called Africa, and Europa applied sixteen as the marker for adulthood.

The most radical law the Emperor had passed was legalizing same-sex relationships.

'Wow, that's progressive, eh? Doesn't change they're still stuck in the dark ages,' Moggie deduced. 'What was Vic thinking?'

That singular question haunted Asena.

'Just occurred to me, the republican propaganda criticizing Europa is true.'

Under the current leadership of the High Council, the United Shifters Council of the Americas pursued peace and prosperity. They and their international version, the Global Shifter Alliance, had increased the age of 'marriages' to twenty-five. For those who respected it, and got pregnant after that stipulated age threshold, the USCA provided pre and postnatal care and free vaccines. That policy wasn't popular, but their efforts yielded results.

Puerperium mortality had plummeted. So had deaths attributed to post-pregnancy complications that'd claimed her mother. Along with those measures, migration and cross-species mating bolstered their population.

Europa, a monarchy, did not elect leaders based on their skills and abilities, but nepotism. The presentation informed her of the powerful houses in service of the Emperor. Five wielded undue influence, including that of a certain dragon. Some had invested in the human economy to augment their generational wealth. Mining. Oil wells. Logging. Commercial fishing. Transportation, construction, and such—which hired cheap labor to maximize profits. If the homo sapiens were responsible for destroying the planet, so were these hereditary oligarchs.

What interested her was Europa's influential clans were divided into two fractions. The Absolutists or Monarchists. They were right-wing orthodox traditionalists. The second—the Inclusionist, modern, left-wing liberals, were a minority. The werewolf emperor kept both in check, and everyone bent a knee to him. If they were loyal and paid the taxes, he didn't meddle in what they did in their territories.

Nester, the elderly werewolf, droned on about the history of the great Félix Saxe-Coburg reforms. Asena's heavy eyelids fell, but she awoke with a start. As she sat at the back, behind Duma, she rested her forehead on her folded arm and closed her eyes.

Duma's urgent hiss disturbed her slumber. "Nester asks what the cardinal code."

"What?" she yawned as she wiped the drool on her cheek.

The instructor glared at her. In the front, the Nasi twins giggled.

"Thou shall bow to and heed the Emperor's decrees. Thou shall not kill or maim a fellow therianthrope. Thou shall not steal. Thou shall not reveal our presence to the homo sapiens," she parroted the local rendition of the universal shifter code.

Nester managed a curt nod. "You forgot, 'Thou shall do what it takes to further your species.' Here is a new one. Thou shall not nap during classes," he seethed.

Asena longed to tell Nester despite her catnap, she'd missed little. Instead, she stifled a yawn, hoping he'd drop it. His lectures didn't interest her in the least. Not today or ever.

She couldn't wait to go back home, where she belonged.

****

What do you make of Bebi's viewpoint and why she's targeting Duma and Asena? Is she justified?

Did you also notice the change in Asena? I was trying to 'show' not 'tell'. 

Also, for those missing a certain dragon... he's returning soon. ;)

And.... who noticed the easter egg?? Small world, eh?