It felt wrong. The busy streets and bustling shops overwhelmed my senses. The people were too loud. They moved too much; I didn't know where to look. A bakery was nearby. The scent of fresh bread and sweets rose above the stench of sweat and perfume that accompanied the crowd. It felt too unnatural compared with the fresh air of the forests.

Yet, by far, the most disconcerting was the leash I held, connected to the muzzle with a thick clip. Cerberus may be canine, but he wasn't a dog. He was a wild lycan, as sentient as any human, and by pack standards my alpha. Leading him through town like an oversized mutt felt insulting. Clamping his mouth shut was degrading.

I knew the feeling. I wished it upon many people, but not Cerberus. Never my loyal guardian.

They stared and cleared a path. People always did for Cerberus. Supposedly, this was normal here, expected, even required. This was nothing compared to the horrors I unleashed on the villages of Askance. So why did it feel like these people were witnessing the worst crime I could commit?

"Don't allow yourselves to be led like sheep! The fights are government manipulation! Attending condones cruelty!"

My arm was abruptly grabbed, steering me away from the scraggly man standing on the street corner. "Ignore him," Cyrus murmured in my ear. I flinched away, avoiding any possible contact. He made no indication he noticed the movement. "Just a lowlife that crawled aboveground, trying to get attention by spouting conspiracies." He met my gaze with the most serious expression I had seen on him thus far. "Avoid them. They sometimes attack trainers."

I blinked. "Okay..." I said, more than a little startled by his sudden mood shift.

The man's features relaxed. "Good." He pointed towards a building not far from us. "See there? That's the arena."

I tugged on Cerberus’s chain, drawing his attention from the street-corner man.

The arena was a massive log structure with an open top. Much like the outer villages of Askance, Treef was close enough to the mountains to share their weather, namely rain. I hardly noticed the muddy streets until we stepped into the wood flooring of the entryway. Cerberus left giant paw prints in his wake. I glanced down and frowned.

"I'll get you registered. Wait here," Cyrus instructed. I nodded, not bothering to look up. Cerberus followed my gaze, leaning over to sniff at the wooden planks.

Most of the dirt tracked in was rubbed in unrecognizable smudge marks. However, a fresh set of prints still held their shape. A particularly defined paw caught my eye. I knelt, placing my fingers over the pads. Although the print was clearly lycan, the palm was no bigger than mine.

Were they fighting cubs?

"Everything is all set," Cyrus called out as he jogged back to us. "Unfortunately, the clerk was difficult. Because of his coloring, she only let me enter him in the amateur and small class." He stopped by my side. "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing," I said, standing. "Now what?"

Cyrus grinned. "They fight the females first, but in a city this small, they have enough stalls for the males in the class too. I'll show you where to put him."

***

The arena was louder than the streets. Maybe in the forests I had become accustomed to the quiet, but there was no denying the cheering was by no means soft. I hurriedly climbed the stairs, eager to stay by Cyrus now that I no longer had Cerberus beside me. I may have known him for only a matter of hours, but it was best to be in the presence of someone who had a vested interest in my well being. I learned that a long time ago.

The key to control was having what the other most desired. Cyrus wanted a worthy lycan trainer. Surely he could do no better than the Lady of the Lycan Mountains herself.

Not that he could ever know that.

My newfound manager led me to the upper rows of the stadium. I had to jog up the stairs to keep pace with his long strides. By the time I sat down beside him, my skin had made contact with at least three people. I reminded myself it didn't matter.

"This is great," Cyrus said, sporting his widest grin yet. "Really, I've been dreaming of this since I was a kid. Just wait till we get to the capital! And it's all thanks to you."

I flinched back, just barely avoiding his casual touch to my arm. He frowned, but said nothing. A trumpet sounded somewhere to my left. I nearly jumped from my seat. Cyrus laughed.

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"It's just the call for the first fight to start. You're certainly skittish. What's the matter? You were quite confident just outside the gates."

I sighed. In truth, I had simply been gauging his level of interest. Such could be useful later on. "I'm just used to the quiet of the mountains, that's all. I'll be fine." It seemed I would have to fake confidence again, something I was unfortunately too familiar with. It was only for the winter. I would leave in the spring and go find somewhere else away from people.

That was until the stalls that kept the lycans separate opened and I lay eyes on the first females I had seen since leaving the castle.

I couldn't even gasp. They stood no taller than me but didn't possess the roundish faces of cubs. Even from afar, I could tell they were adults. Yet, far more shocking than their stature was their build. Their long, lean limbs resembled a human's more than the muscular structure the canines usually possessed. My throat clenched as my heart sank into my stomach. These were not simply small lycans; malnutrition had stunted their growth.

"Are they... all like this?" I hissed through clenched teeth, trying not to let too much emotion show through. I failed.

Cyrus didn't seem to notice. "Besides being a little on the small side, yeah. This is a nice pair of girls. Why? Are they different in Askance?"

"Yeah," I sighed. "A lot different."

The skeletons of females charged, colliding with vicious intensity. Yet, for all their ferocity as they swatted and nipped at one another, they didn't make a sound. I couldn't hear the whisper of a snarl.

"Why are they so quiet?"

"What do you mean?"

I frowned. "Why aren't they growling?" I had seen many fights in the mountains, not one of them was a quiet affair.

"What are you talking about? Their vocal cords are cut so they can't call their wild cousins."

My gut twisted into a knot. I quit breathing entirely for several seconds, afraid if I did, I might vomit. He said it so casually; I knew he believed it to be true. But I also knew calling wasn't the reason they cut out these lycans’ voices. They cut them so they couldn't speak. They cut them so they could continue their entertainment, pretending they were nothing but mindless beasts.

It didn't take long for one female to end up on her back, tail between her legs in surrender. Clapping came from the spectators. Trainers appeared from metal doors on either side of the arena, many tailed whips in their hands. They chased the lycans back to their stalls. It didn't escape my notice the losing female jumped away from her trainer's whip as though it hurt much more than it should. Nor the fact she was continually beaten, even after she retreated to her stall.

It was difficult to witness the next few fights, to pretend I was interested in watching skinny weaklings silently fight to avoid the harsh beating the loser received. Over and over, I saw the same pattern, the males little different from the females. They were released, fought, then beaten. Something was strange about those many tailed whips. They seemed to inflict much more pain than a normal whip was capable of.

Then it was Cerberus's turn.

It wasn't a fair fight. From the moment the lycans stepped into the arena, it was clear who was the stronger. Cerberus was giant; eight feet of thick, toned muscle. His fur shone even in the clouded light. His opponent stood the height of a man, malnutritioned, and fur as dull as his eyes.

Lycans fought in the wild. They gladly sparred one another for every meal. Pack order was constantly shifting day to day, especially amongst the younger members. Fighting was natural, something they even enjoyed.

But this was nothing like their harmless sparring.

Cerberus stood, paw-like hands splaying out as he let out a challenging roar. There was an audible gasp from the arena's stands.

"I've been meaning to ask you," Cyrus murmured. "Why aren't his cords cut? Aren't you afraid he'll start calling?"

I clenched my jaw as I watched the smaller lycan cower under Cerberus's crimson glare. "No, I'm not."

The poor canine was trembling. Somewhere on the opposite side of the stands, someone was screaming orders. I assumed it was the trainer, as the lycan glanced back before hesitantly taking a step forward. No sooner had he entered Cerberus's range than he was thrown across the arena, tossed as easily as a doll.

The audience cheered as he hit the pit wall. Cyrus was among them. I knew the lycans could be cruel. They were all too eager to terrorize the villages of my territory. It wasn't Cerberus's sweet disposition that earned his place as alpha.

But that didn't matter, not to me. I spent years living among them. They took me in when my kind left me to die. I had worn a mask to imitate their faces. The lycans were my own, more so than humans had ever been.

The other lycan curled back, cowering as Cerberus approached. His tail tucked between his legs as his head dipped low. The albino gave a short chuff. His opponent flipped over, laying on his back.

The crowd laughed. I could hear the trainer shrieking at their lycan from across the arena as I got up, walking down to the entrance to the lower levels. They sounded like a woman. I caught a few words about her humiliation before I entered the cement cellar and opened the first metal door, which Cyrus told me led to the arena pit.

Damp sand seeped through the cracks in the soles of my boots as I stepped into the pit. The air was chilled by the cement walls. I only got several steps inside when the door opposite mine opened and a woman trotted in. She stopped a few yards from the lycans, glaring at me and giving a short nod in Cerberus's direction, who still had the other lycan pinned under his glare.

"Cerberus!" I called. The albino glanced my way. I pointed to his open stall. "Back in."

He dropped on all fours, bounding back to his cage. I heard the impressed applause, but I ignored them. It was far harder to ignore the other trainer's screeching and the strange crackling her whip made. Even harder were the cries of the lycan, rendered silent by their ignorance. But I didn't turn around. I couldn't bear to watch, not when I had an excuse to look away.

I hated Preene, even more than I hated Askance.