The guards escorted me as soon as Pauline told them I was ready.

They led me through the building, but not outside. I was disappointed. I had hoped that I would be taken out of the building so I could find more clues as to my location in case I got a chance to get a message home to my people.

Instead, I was taken up the elevator by two burly, scowling werewolves. They almost looked tough enough to be from the north, I considered.

I did not fight or cause any trouble as we waited. Again, I was aware I had no chance, although the long empty hallways looked terribly inviting.

I would have loved to make a break for it. My imagination constructed a beautiful scene in which I would slam my guards' heads together and then beat them into insensibility while they were stunned by my surprise attack. Then I could hit the next floor button on the elevator and it would stop before my destination.

I would run down the stairs, kicking butt on the way and charge out of the building, maybe hotwire a car or something with my non-existence car theft skills.

Shame I was not in some fictional adaptation loosely based on my life.

I was dragged out of my ridiculous imaginings and into another stark set of rooms, this time an office with similarly barren design to my apartment. A secretary dressed in black and grey pinstripe skirt and jacket sat behind a desk.

"Just sit over in the chairs," she ordered me.

I did as I was told, as if this was an appointment rather than a hostage situation.

Finally the secretary said, "He'll see you now."

The guards motioned me out of the chair. I still barely knew what I was doing there. I hoped the king, or whoever it was I was about to see would volunteer information. I did not want to have to demand it and harm the compliant image I was attempting to cast.

The guards dragged me up and marched me into a private office. They bowed when we crossed the threshold. I suppose that answered my question about the identity of the stranger.

I obsereved the man sitting across from me. He was wearing a suit and reclined in his chair indolently. He looked to be in his mid-forties, although with a son older than me he was probably closer to his fifties at least.

I tried to keep the frown from my face.

"Elise, how good to meet you at last. I am King Larson, Ruler of Werewolves."

I resisted the urge to protest the assumed title. He was no king to this werewolf.

"Have a seat."

One of the guards herded me over as if I could not manage such a simple task on my own. Although it rankled, I reminded myself that it was good that they thought I was that incapable.

"You may wait outside the door," the pretender king said.

Both guards bowed and left. I tried to keep my face smooth while I waited for him to explain what he wanted with me.

"My son told me that you are unique among thralls."

"I wouldn't know."

"No? Why not?"

"My people don't unjustly turn people into thr-thralls, so we have little experience."

"Perhaps if your leaders had more experience you would not have been turned so unjustly into a thrall. Seems irresponsible to have a power with no concept of how to use it."

I felt my teeth grit and the curse stab me for the criticism of my master. I was annoyed, I was on its side on the matter and yet it still hated words spoken against him.

It was harder to get my next words out with the curse rushing me. "How would th-they use if th-they have no one to use it on?"

He considered my words. "Does no one ever commit a crime there? What happens to my fighters who are captured by your people?"

We had only had a few prisoners, and as far as I knew they were still imprisoned indefinitely. They certainly were not going to be allowed to return to the eastern forces. I was certainly not going to give this man any information on what happened in the territories lest I give him something that the traitors had not already told him.

Instead, I changed the topic. "Why am I here?" I asked as evenly as I could.

"Why? Obviously because you're the daughter of one leader and thrall to another other. And from what I hear, the third has an familial affection for you."

Well, I had guessed as much, but how did he know so much about the workings of the pack?

"Although I hear rumours that you're more to Serge than his mere thrall now," he said with a grin I found rather unpleasant.

The curse did not like the insinuation. If only it could be useful for once and leap out of me and attack him instead. "H-he's my l-leader and my fr-friend."

If only I could defend him with a steady tone.

The so called king stood up and walked around his large desk towards me. He grasped my chin between his fingers and tilted my face up towards him. I shivered, but I hoped that he would not misinterpret my shakes as fear of him. I was angry, deep beneath the chains.

"You're pretty enough, princess."

"Let me go," I snarled.

"Ah, you do have teeth. Or is it the curse forcing you to defend yourself?"

I scowled. It was obvious he was mocking me. No doubt he had already heard everything I had said to his odious son.

"I speak for myself."

"So the curse really doesn't affect you?"

"I-it affects me," I argued. "It punishes me constantly, because you had me stolen from my master."

He paused musingly. My face almost hurt under his rough grip, but I did not pull myself away despite my strong desire to.

"I have not seen a thrall out of range of their master in a very long time, not since my father was alive, but I do remember how they reacted. They could barely function and began wasting away. But you're not, at least not quickly."

"It gets easier w-with time."

He was still observing me, still with his hand holding my face. I had a strong desire to bite him to get him away from me, but I held myself back. It would only escalate the situation.

"I can see why he cursed you. You are a beautiful young woman. It never occurred to me to use the magic in that way, but I can see the appeal is there."

"It's not like that," I managed to say through gritted teeth.

He moved my hair off to the side and exposed the back of my neck. "That's where he bit you, isn't it?"

Creeping anxiety prickled my skin, amplified by the curse.

"What would happen if I transformed right now and bit you with my magic?"

I wanted to escape, but in this cage of steel and concrete, with guards at the doors and the ground so far below me, there was nowhere to flee. The knowledge did not diminish my desire. I wanted to run until I was away from this terrible place back at my home and my pack and with Matthias where I belonged.

Instead I held myself still and hoped he would tire of tormenting me soon, before he did something terrible to me.

"What would happen if I bit you, already enthralled as you are? Would it fail to take hold? Would it replace the first curse? Would you be thrall to two separate packs at the same time? Would it kill you?"

"I don't know," I whispered in a much less self-assured voice than I would have preferred.

I did not want to find out what would happen.

"I admit myself curious. I have never encountered a thrall apart from those of my own pack before."

I swallowed hard. He was so close to my neck now. If he wanted to do it would take him mere seconds to transform and only another to turn his speculations into a more definitive answer.

Fear sweep through me, real organic fear that intertwined with the magic, leaving me paralyzed more securely than any bonds might manage.

Then he moved back and away from me. I tried not to show my relief, tried not to breathe loud enough for him to hear how much he had frightened me.

"But I won't. It would be reckless of me to give your savage packs more of an incentive to kill me." His lips curved in a half smile. The monster appeared amused by my fear.

"Your packs don't stand a chance of course, but it would be a shame to lose even more of my populace or more members of yours before they fall into line. Every wolf is a precious resource and I aim to preserve those that remain."

He walked back and sat behind his desk casually as if he had not just threatened to curse me with his own magic.

"Which is why you're here, holding you is expedient to my ends. Once your father and your master fall, Austin will stand alone and without hope."

"I don't understand why you want u-us so badly," I commented, wincing at the shake in my voice as I voiced my question in the most uncertain way possible.

He regarded me almost thoughtfully. "It's time for werewolves to stand together."

I thought about Serge's and Austin's pack members who died most recently, about Serge's parents and all the others who had died from our packs. I recalled my childhood memories of the Rocky Mountain wolves who had been extinguished years before. "You've killed so many."

"As has your pack," he retorted easily.

"In self-defense. We never asked for this."

"Perhaps," he agreed, his tone so silky it slipped across my skin.

I could not contain my renewed shivering.

"The day you were cursed was a terrible loss for my forces. Would you like to know how many your fighters killed?" he asked changing the subject.

"No," I said.

"Really? It was the worst loss we have taken yet, but your predicament destabilized the tight knit unity of your people. I never would have hoped that one of your leaders might make such a terrible mistake, but he did and I will not complain about my good fortune. You destroyed their unity, their one singular strength against my forces."

He was right. It had been my fault. I had made a reckless choice and all that had happened afterwards was fallout from that. I was the enzyme that triggered the disunity. I remembered the guilty, anxious feeling well.

Then I looked at the supposed king of the werewolves. No, he was the catalyst, he and his father were the aggressors. All of our lives would have been better, so many lives would have been spared, if only they had kept their greed for power from harming other people.

"So you'll stay here, until they come to terms or until they are all dead."

Pure anger filled me. "Like the Rocky Mountain Wolves?"

He smiled a bit at my words. "Exactly like the Rocky Mountain Wolves. They would not give, so my father had to crush them until they had no choice but to bend."

"Bend?"

He chuckled. "Did you imagine they were all dead? No, many survived and joined us."

I felt a sick sensation in my stomach.

"Your people are no good to me where they are, scraping along in the north. I need more forces and there is a certain vitality that even my wolves do not possess. I do not want to have it come to killing all your people, I don't want to lose such strong members of our race. I want that blood in my forces."

"So this whole thing has always just been about making us to serve you, then? Why would you want us so badly?"

"Because werewolves shouldn't have to hide in the shadows. We should be the true rulers of this world, not the weak humans."

"We are human."

"We're above humans and it's time that we begin to exert our dominance."

"Humans outnumber us thousands to one or more."

He smiled. "Right now, that's true. This is hardly a fight that will be won in a day. My father took the first step and I took the second and it will be up to my son to one day take the third. My task is to simply bring all werewolves into the fold and bolster our numbers, our power and our influence. We're wolves in sheep's clothing for now, but one day we will remove the disguise and reveal ourselves for the power that we truly are."

The scariest part of everything that he was saying was that he seemed to believe it. If he had his way, what would happen to the regular humans? To Moramay, to Beth, to Tabitha, to old Jake Tiller?

I inhaled. "So, I'm just your hostage?" I asked. "What happens to me if they refuse to yield? If you kill me, you've lost all your leverage."

He smiled again. "Oh, I well understand that, Elise. I have no intention of killing you. I did not even bother to threaten to kill you. I have a different bit of leverage."

I shivered and forced myself to scowl, hopefully hiding my fear.

"If they don't give in, I'll give you to my son."

For one second, I could not even feel fear past my shock. "You're insane," I told him.

"No, I'm not. You have hearty northern blood and you'll produce strong descendents. Jordan likes you well enough, too, on first sight, so he won't be complaining."

"I won't do it."

"If it comes to that, you won't have a choice," he responded.

"I'll never agree."

"It's not your willingness I care about, it's your obedience, and if you think I cannot get you to comply then you have very little imagination."

I was colder than ever.

"But that will not be a concern if your leaders do what I ask, of course."

"They won't come to terms."

"Then they'll all die and you'll be the next mother of my descendents. It will be a shame to lose such strong members of our race, but I will have unity in the end no matter what your packs think of the matter."

He smiled again and I froze in the curse and my own fear.