The night was too bright, but I promised my legion, and their lady would keep her word. It was not wise to refuse them.

My fingers buried in thick fur, holding myself to the lycan’s back as he bounded between eastern pines. We kept to moon cast shadows, the canine’s steps silent on the forest floor as we crept towards the town. He halted at the treeline and surveyed the wall walk before sprinting across the open space. Even the soot and ash he covered himself in could not completely mask the shining white of the albino’s pelt.

Long claws sunk easily into the soft wood, allowing the canine to scale the wall. His broad shoulders and bulging muscles had little trouble with our weight, though I doubted he would show it if they did. Lycans didn’t tolerate weakness, not from their alpha, and not from their leader.

The walk was deserted. Perhaps the guards had abandoned their posts, though it was possible none were assigned to this remote corner. My scouts had noted their forces were concentrated at the gatehouses near the entrance.

They thought their wall of pointed logs impenetrable, simply because they could not climb it themselves. They should have known better. After all, it wasn’t built for humans.

My companion knelt, allowing me to step soundlessly into the rough sawn timbers of the walk. I turned to look over the sleeping town.

Estil was a new settlement, built after the fall of the old world and built from the timbers they milled. Over the years, it had grown to Askance’s northernmost trading town, rich and with storehouses full of goods from the smaller settlements bordering my territory.

I heard the streets were often busy, and the markets crowded, though never visited myself to confirm. It had been years since I walked among humans. Not since they mistook my panicked warnings of my curse for a disease and thrown me to the wilderness to die.

Estil was quiet now. All the border towns were in the wake of winter and the anticipation of the first harvest.

A slight bump to my shoulder brought my attention to my companion. Haunting red eyes with a crimson pupil met mine. The trait gave him the name Blood Eye, though I preferred one of my own choosing.

“Ready, my lady?”

Cerberus’s voice was rough, deeper than a human’s and with an unnatural gravel to it. It was a voice more suited to a bark or growl than words.

I adjusted the mask on my face. The hardened leather shone silvery under the half-moon’s light, a fitting image for the white wolf it represented. Only my mouth and chin were visible beneath. “How many?”

“Two hundred and thirty.”

I raised my brows. “The females came?”

He huffed. “Cubs need easy prey.”

I glanced over the town again. Smoke curled from chimneys, flavoring the air with the scent of pine wood. “Then tonight will be a learning experience for many.”

Cerberus threw his head back and howled. The sound echoed over the mountain forests, a single, pure note, deeper and more ominous than a wolf.

Silence.

Then shouts came from the gatehouses on the other end of town. More from the sparse pockets of guards dispersed along the town’s edge. Their warnings were of little use. No sooner was the pack spotted then it came barreling over the wall, mowing down all those who stood in its way. With the size and strength of a bear, any one of my canine legion was easily worth four human soldiers.

I swung on my companion’s back. Cerberus leapt from the walk to nearby stairs, clearing them in a matter of seconds to land on the muddy ground. Puddles from the previous day’s storm spattered mud across my legs, but the black leather of my clothing kept the worst of the wet off me.

My mount slid to a halt on the town square's slick ground. I liked to think I cut an impressive figure, sitting astride the massive alpha while my legion tore the doors from shops and houses. Before us stood the stage towns used for announcements and public displays, newly built by the unweathered wood. Near the rear sat a high-backed chair, no doubt for the town's leader during such events. A man stood in front of it, barking orders to the panicked soldiers below.

"Stand and fight! Don't think these monsters invincible!" From his coat pocket he pulled a bent piece of metal which I recognized as an old world technology. “The Lady of the Lycan Mountains has no claim here.” A loud bang echoed through the town square. One of my lycans fell, howling in pain.

"A gun!" I spit the word like a curse. Working guns were rare, but not unheard of, and were one of the few weapons capable of stopping a lycan in its tracks. However, his second shot was nothing more than a hollow click. Only one bullet, it seemed.

I once again slid from Cerberus's back to make my way up the stairs. The official turned. I wondered if he was the mayor of the town. Most likely, the captain of the guard would be closer to the gates. He scrambled to point the gun at my chest. My steps didn't falter.

"See, that's the useful thing about lycans," I purred. "They don't run out of bullets."

The man paled under his graying beard, lowering the now useless weapon. "You can have anything you want." He nearly whispered it.

I frowned. "I already knew that. Right now, I want to hear you begging for your life."

He dropped the gun and fell to his knees. "Please spare me."

"Louder. I can't quite hear you over the sound of people dying."

"Please spare me!" he cried.

Yes, that was exactly what I had said. The fear in his eyes was exactly the same as mine as I was tied to a tree in the mountains.

"Funny you beg for your own life and not those of your people. Quite selfish, don't you think?" I asked, pulling out my dagger from the sheath strapped to my thigh. His gaze followed my movements.

"If I beg for their lives, will it save them?"

"No," I said. "But it would be a kind gesture."

"Please," he whispered, "what can I do to save myself?"

Leaning forward, I pressed the tip of my dagger to his collar. The nose of my mask touched his. I savored the twisting of his features as his expression morphed into one of pure, untainted terror. "Nothing," I hissed, "you’re just a pawn."

He thought I was going to slit his throat, I could see it in his eyes, and for a moment, I considered it. But killing was far easier than that.

I lifted my blade from his neck and replaced it in its sheath. One at a time, I pulled the fingers of my gloves. “You’ve convinced me,” I said, pulling them off and dropping them to the stage floor as I knelt to his level. My bare hands cupped his jaw. “I’ll spare you…”

He believed it. Such an idiot.

My lips pressed to his. He stiffened, then relaxed as my curse seeped in his veins. Truthfully, the touch of any skin was enough, but his beard was in the way. Besides, they always said the lips were a stronger high.

My fingers hooked around his ears, nails digging into the skin behind them. His pulse raced under my fingertips. Eventually, like any other, he succumbed to the poison. It was never terribly long to overdose, not when it was their first time. His body went into shock, his lungs quit and I could no longer feel his breath on my face.

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I released the mayor’s corpse, allowing it to fall to the stage. They never fought. One touch, and they didn’t want to.

That pathetic man didn’t deserve such a peaceful death, not after he shot one of my lycans. I should have just slit his throat. I turned to stand.

A sword swung at my face.

The soldier was thrown to the floor. He flipped to sit up. Heavy paws slammed into his knee with a sickening snap. The white lycan lunged for the man’s sword arm. Bone was crushed in powerful jaws. The human’s wailing silenced as his throat was caught in long teeth. His body thrashed against the wooden planks until the lycan stood, throwing him from the stage and well into the surrounding square, where he lay still in the mud.

Cerberus was in my face in an instant. “Watch yourself!” he barked.

Blood spattered my cheek. For a moment, I was dizzy with shock. The albino’s front was dyed with various shades of red and pink, and with a bipedal height over eight feet, he stood nearly a foot taller than the average lycan. Those vicious teeth bared under crimson eyes were enough to make even the most aggressive male submit.

Then I recovered and slid my feet under me. I tried not to stumble as I made my way to the high-backed chair. It was exasperation that made me fall into the seat, not sudden exhaustion. I had seen my legion kill plenty of times before. This was nothing new. It didn’t bother me.

The Lady of the Lycan Mountains didn't have such weaknesses.

I tried to ignore the screams and the slow twist in my gut they caused. It didn’t matter. They weren’t me. I needed to look out for myself. It was always so much easier when they died quietly.

It was best not to think about that.

A white form moved beside me. "You should have used your dagger," Cerberus remarked, sniffing the official's corpse at my feet.

I scoffed. "I didn’t want to get all bloody.” I glared at him.

He snarled and met my stare, undaunted. I steeled my own expression, careful to keep steady contact. It was essential I didn’t let him sense my unease or the way my heart faltered with every drop of red that fell from his stained jaws. He mustn’t doubt my dominance, or that red could very well be mine.

Finally, his gaze flicked away.

I sighed and reached out to pat his head. My fingers worked behind his ears, much like I would a dog. Thick fur shielded his skin from my touch, denying him what he craved. An amused smile played across my face as his defiance dissolved and a thin line of drool dripped from his tongue. Only when I heard the beginnings of a whine on his breath did I relent and slipped my hand into his waiting jaws. He sighed as my drug-laced pores touched his tongue.

That was why they named me 'Desire.'

The screams of the remaining townsfolk eventually died down. After a while, I removed my hand from Cerberus's mouth and searched the square. A large, black-furred male was chasing a woman through marketplace booths.

“Thorn!” I called.

The male froze, ears swiveling my way. He stood up to look at me.

“Bring her to me. Not too injured.”

Thorn nodded and bounded off to do my bidding. However, it was a chestnut female who brought the woman to me. Judging by his lack of aggression as he followed behind, she was likely one of his mates.

The human tripped over the mayor’s corpse, landing at my feet. I used the toe of my boot to lift her chin. She didn’t look all that much older than me, a year or two at best, just a young woman. Her trembling brought a smile to my face.

“Do you want to survive?”

She didn’t answer, but her expression told me she didn’t believe me. Good, she wasn’t as stupid as her politician. I’d hate to waste my mercy.

“Could you be a dear and tell Lord Perimone something?” I leaned until my mask’s nose touched hers. “I hate being ignored.” I fell back in the chair. “And when I’m ignored… well, I’m afraid I’ll do just about anything for attention. If Estil isn’t enough, I’ll have to move onto a city. Selic perhaps? Riken?” I caught her eye. “Obria?” Unfortunately, all posturing, if I could attack Obria, I would have burned that city to its foundations years ago. “Anyway, I’d really like him to know this was all his fault. Could you do that for me?”

Again, she didn’t answer, but her finding her feet was enough. A snap of my fingers caught the attention of a pair of youngsters.

“She leaves unharmed.”

One waited at the edge of the stage’s stairs for her to come. The other ran down the street, where I could just make out him and several others attempt to figure out the gears to the gate. They managed to open it by the time the woman and her escort reached them.

My attention returned to the lycans. Thorn was watching Cerberus, who leaned against my seat with a dazed look. The female’s eyes were fixed on my bare hands. I caught both’s attention with a quick whistle.

“Everyone else?” I asked Thorn.

His mouth opened in a canine grin. “Dead.”

“Good. Then I suppose you want your reward?” I held out my hands. The lycans leapt to lick at my palms. I closed my eyes to the light just breaking over the mountainous horizon.

I could control the lycans. I could demolish populations with ease. I could make anyone beg for their lives at my feet.

I could rule the world.

Then no one could ever chain me up again.

***

They called it a kennel. They said it was for homeless dogs. I didn't know what a dog was, not really. I had encountered a few feral mutts before, one bit me once and died. But, I didn't know they were pets, that they could be nice.

I didn't know humans could be nice, either.

Not that they ever were. Nice was the cockroaches moving as I was shoved to my knees in front of the open door. The cage's ceiling was too low to stand, even as small as I was.

"In," was all she said. I couldn't see her face, but I knew her. Or, at least, I was familiar with this captor.

But I didn't want to go in. It was cramped and smelled. Mold grew around a window and water dripped from cracks in the concrete. In the corner there was a dead rat, bits of bone exposed where it had been partially eaten. Another lay in the window's light, rotted and bloating in the summer sun.

I didn't get a warning.

My head spun from the blow. My temple cracked against the hard floor, making the pain worse.

"Get inside!" she screamed. My head was yanked back by my hair. She didn't hold on for long.

My captor fell back, choking and gasping for air. Spindly limbs thrashed against the floor. My poisonous blood stained her fingers. I backed away in horror as she struggled for breath.

I was in so much trouble.

I scrambled into the cage, curling into the smallest ball I could beside the eaten rat. Footsteps creaked the wooden staircase. This was bad, this was very, very bad.

The woman’s chest was still moving, though just barely. Maybe she would be okay. Maybe I hadn't killed her. Maybe she would wake up happy and…

She stilled just as the man rounded the corner. I couldn't focus on his face. He was a hulking, shadowy figure. He saw her and came for me.

His shriek hurt my ears. Hands reached through the door, grabbing my ragged dress and dragging me from the cage. I tried to scream, but my voice was caught in my throat.

Ropes twisted about my limbs. I thrashed against them. There were hands everywhere. Hitting me. Grabbing me. Yanking at my arms and pulling my legs. Striking me across the face.

There were three figures now. No, four. Seven? A dozen? The room was full of people. The ropes grew tighter.

I hadn't meant to kill. I wanted to be good. I just didn’t want to go in another cage! I didn't want to be tied up again!

***

I opened my eyes to see red orbs framed by pale fur glowing in the moonlight. I briefly wondered if my nighttime guard was concerned or simply drawn by my thrashing.

Upon inspection, I saw I had torn the curtains which framed my bed from their posts. Some of the fabric entangled my leg. Such was why I avoided blankets while sleeping. During my rest was the only time I removed my mask and clothing, finding it’s twisting too much to bear, like ropes tangling around me, holding me, trapping me…

Was it a dream, or a memory? Did it matter? How many times had I been shoved in cages? A personal fix or an endless product, it made no difference. After a while, they all blended together.

I kicked the fabric away. It didn’t matter anymore. Keep the blankets off and I would be fine. Too often, the nightmares came anyway.

They were just dreams.

With the curtains gone, most of my skin was open for him to see. Of course, the lycan had crossed the distance he usually allowed me during my sleep. The temptation was enough for anyone to throw away the laws and morals they once held. I should know, I had seen it all my life.

They hadn’t all been that bad. A few of my captors were somewhat civil in the beginning. Before the addiction took over their minds and I became nothing more than a living fix, their only desire.

Only after my banishment did I realize I could gain control with my curse. If Askance was threatened by my influence, I might as well influence it the way I wanted. I could be the most powerful leader the country had ever seen.

But as I rolled over on my stomach, I didn't feel powerful. I felt the same as I always had, afraid. Emotion bunched up in my throat. I buried my face in the fur coverings of my bed, trying to stifle any noises I may make.

Weight pressed down on the side of my mattress. A clawed hand gently rested on the bare skin of my back. A cold nose traced my shoulder blade. I knew he was only taking advantage of the opportunity. I knew I should snap at him, order him back to the door where he usually lay. But, if only for a moment, I wanted to pretend someone wanted to comfort me. Could anyone truly care about me, despite my curse? Would anyone want to be by me without the addiction?