Preene's castle put all others I had seen to shame. Granite pillars framed a grand entryway large enough for thirty people to enter at once. Massive glass windows lined long wings spread out across the landscape. The carriage had traveled down a narrow road between two square lakes, each spurting water high in the night sky. A fountain stood in front of us, a statue of horses and an old world god.

The dance hallway was just as grand as the outside and filled with elegantly disguised people. My fingers tangled in the white fur around my neckline. It wasn't nearly as soft as Cerberus's.

"A wolf is quite cocky for a trainer to go as," Cyrus remarked from behind his hare's mask, "but really, I couldn't imagine an animal that suits you better."

I shot him a small smile. He was handsome in his neat suit, though I refrained from telling him as to not inflate his ego. Instead, I lightly ran my fingers over the side of my wolf mask. It was a replica of the one I wore in the mountains, save a small teardrop carved just beneath the right eye, imperceptible unless touched.

We were not long inside the magnificent ballroom before I heard a voice call out for the albino trainer. I turned toward the sound, spotting the elder official I had met during River's fight. He gestured for me to come closer. I grabbed Cyrus by the sleeve, quietly pointing out the man before dragging him over. My manager gave a little gasp as he looked over the old man and his younger companion.

This companion was tall, lanky, and leanly muscled. The fox mask he wore matched perfectly with his brilliantly red hair and mischievous green eyes. An equally troublesome smile hung about his pale lips. Judging by his build, I would guess myself to be a year or two his senior, though he was significantly taller.

"Hello there," he greeted with a cheerful friendliness. "Master Eemeli tells me you are the trainer of that infamous albino." His grin widened. "Though, in his old age, I'm afraid Mazon has forgotten your name."

I let an easy smile on my features as well. Cyrus had told me of Mazon Eemeli, head trainer and, in many ways, advisor to the king himself. "Actually, in my haste, I forgot to give it," I said sweetly, resisting the urge to cross my arms. "I am called Desire."

"Desire..." the man hummed, looking me over again. From the corner of my vision, I saw Cyrus's eyes narrow ever so slightly. "Why is that? Surely that is not your birth name."

I shrugged. "I knew many names in Askance, none of them given at birth. Desire is the one I liked best."

"I see. What are some of these others?"

Tyrant. Killer. Monster. I glanced to Cyrus. He said Preene had absolutely no communication with Askance, so they wouldn't know that. The red-haired man was obviously someone of importance if he kept company with the head trainer. Perhaps, in this instance, it would be more beneficial to be impressive than cautious. I tilted my head ever so slightly. "I was also known as the Lady of the Lycan Mountains."

Cyrus choked a little cough into the glass he was drinking from, though he did his best to hide it.

By contrast, the man responded with a slight bow. "Then I must apologize, my lady, I'm afraid I've quite forgotten to introduce myself. I am Darrius, King of Preene."

I curtsied in return. Important indeed. This was going to be interesting. The king turned his attention to Cyrus.

"Surely you won't mind if I borrow your trainer for a bit?"

"No, certainly not, Your Majesty," my manager said, though I sensed some hesitation in his voice.

"Good! Shall we then?" Darrius offered his arm. I did my best not to flinch while taking it. The king pulled me away, out onto one of the secluded stone balconies that lined the edges of the ballroom. Our particular vantage point was from above an in-ground pool that put the inn's to shame. Weeping willow trees lined its edge from between stone pillars. A servant with a net swept the leaves from the waters.

"So, how does one become known as the 'Lady of the Lycan Mountains'?"

I leaned against the railing, a posture he copied. "By controlling a number of lycans there."

"How?"

I should have told him I had a gift, as so many others seemed to believe. But I couldn't ignore the feeling he would know I was lying. "Cerberus was their alpha. I tamed him and he tamed the others."

The king nodded. "I heard rumors your lycan is wild."

"Yes, he is."

"I heard his roar is so powerful it can make his opponent surrender on the spot." He slipped up onto the railing before untying his fox mask and setting it on the broad stone ledge. "You know why we cut the lycans?"

"To keep them from howling." I knew it was wrong. But it was what Cyrus told me, what I was supposed to know.

Darrius smiled at my parroting. "That's what they say, isn't it?" A shrug, then a sideways glance. "That wild lycan of yours, does he ever complain?"

So he knew. I should have suspected. Those green eyes were clever, and I had a feeling he would know if I played dumb.

"Cerberus is very well trained," I started slowly, gauging his reaction. The mischief on his features turned to excitement. He wanted me to know. "He doesn't consider fighting for me a... he's not forced. He thinks it an honor." I stared out over the gardens again. "Lately, he only speaks when spoken to."

I glanced back. Yes, those were the right words to say. The king looked like a freckled schoolboy, wide-eyed and grinning.

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"How?" It was almost a whisper, more breathed than spoken. "How do you tame a wild lycan?"

I paused. What was I to say? I couldn't tell him about my poison, that was definitely not an option. But what could I say that he would believe? "I... convinced him- them, that I was more important to them than anything else. I am the one they need above anyone else."

"I met a wild lycan too once."

I studied his freckled features, then sat on the railing as well. "I take it that isn't a happy memory."

"No." He sighed. "I suppose you know what they're like."

"I know just about everything there is to know about lycans."

"Right, I thought you would." His frown turned into a bitter smile. "It's funny how a few words can change everything. Suddenly, it didn't seem like I was talking to an animal anymore. It was almost like I was talking to a person... Until that 'person' mauled my father."

My gaze fell to the floor. I knew how territorial the lycans could be.

"I wish it had killed me."

Darrius clenched his hands into fists until his knuckles turned white.

"It mauled him, then just ran away. Didn't even touch me. But I wish it had. Then I wouldn't have had to struggle to lift my father back on his horse. I wouldn't have had to wander through those horrid mountains for days." He grit his teeth. "I wouldn't have been alone when I watched the light fade from his eyes."

I was silent. I couldn't take my eyes off him, though I wanted to look away. Wetness reflected the artificial light of the hall in his eyes. He had the same pain I did, that loss I felt every time I thought of my pack in the Lycan Mountains.

"I'm glad they cut our captive fighters. Those monsters don't deserve the chance to trick people like that." He caught my gaze. "Never let that lycan trick you like that."

I nodded, unsure of what to say.

Darrius took a deep breath, then forced a smile. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to force all this on you. It's just I've never gotten to tell anyone that. I always thought it was better people kept believing they cut the lycans to keep them from howling. One of the last things my father said was a king needs to protect his people, you know?"

"It's nothing," I muttered. "I don't mind. I know how lycans are.”

"If only there was someone like you during the war."

I blinked. "What war?"

"The war... that started it all?" The man stared at me, then broke into a laugh. "Right, you're Asken. My apologies." He leaned back, bracing himself with an arm placed behind him. "Shortly after human society fell apart, the lycans attacked Preene. They tried wiping us out. For a while, we couldn't settle. Humans hid in caves, huddled together in small tribes just trying to avoid being a lycan's prey."

I hadn't realized I leaned in so close. My mask was inches from the king's face, but I couldn't bring myself to recover the distance between us.

Thankfully, he continued without prompting. "Eventually we recovered some old world firearms. Only then we were able to group together and form a proper resistance." He nodded to himself, momentarily breaking eye contact to glance at the sky. "But they didn't like that. They attacked our cities in great numbers. Between lycan hoards and the children poisoning us from within, the war was hard fought, even with guns on our side."

I momentarily wondered what the children of Preene could have done to merit a black mark in their history, but it was more important to understand this war. "And then?"

Darrius shrugged, sitting back again. "We won. Had to about wipe them out ourselves, at least all the lycans this side of the mountains. Those we captured we made fight for their meals. Eventually, it became our sport, a kind of revenge for those dark days." His eyes met mine again. "The howling in the cities was a problem. But not as much as the talking. A few clever ones convinced people to let them go. We had massacres, and still, those few they convinced spawned sympathizers. And they've been causing problems since..."

"So I've heard."

"Yes. Just today, another champion trainer was found. Someone whipped him to death and released his lycans." He nodded grimly, then leaned forward, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Don't let that be you. Your success makes you a target, and I couldn't bear the thought of such a beautiful, talented woman killed by those delusional low lives." He laughed, sliding off the railing to his feet. "And here I go again. My manners really need work. I was so excited to meet you, and I haven't even gotten you a drink yet. Wait here."

The king trotted into the dance hall, stopping a servant with a tray. He returned with two tall glasses filled with a crimson liquid. I took a sip of the offered drink. My face puckered at the bitter taste. Darrius chuckled.

"I take it you've never had alcohol before?" I shook my head. He laughed again. "It was popular in the old world. It's made of fermented fruit. It's got this funny thing to it: a couple make you brave, a few too many, and it makes you stupid."

I giggled, then set my drink aside. I had read much on the old world's alcohol, one of the contributing factors to our self imposed apocalypse. It was illegal in Askance. I wouldn't allow my judgment to be clouded while I was alone and without my poison. "That is a funny effect."

"Indeed." He nodded. "Now, you said you were a lady. Does that mean you lived in a castle?"

"I did," I said. "Though it wasn't anything like this."

"How so?"

"Well, for starters, it didn't have a garden." I smirked. "Well, maybe a garden of bones. The lycans were always leaving them everywhere. I actually started calling it my 'Evil Lair'. Between the bone gardens and constant thunder, the name seemed to fit."

He thought that was funny. "Will you ever go back?"

I turned away, looking to the tile floor. "There are too many bones there now."

He hesitated. "I see... What about a throne? Every ruler needs a throne."

I snickered. "I thought the same thing."

"Really? You miss that? I bet you want to sit on one again."

I eyed him. "And what exactly are you getting at?"

Darrius laughed. "Nothing really." He quickly drained his drink before holding up the empty glass. "To tell the truth, I've had quite a few of these."

I raised my eyebrows. "Enough to make you brave or stupid?"

"I don't know," he chuckled, then leaned forward, pushing my wolf mask up by the nose. Before I could protest, he was kissing me. The king pulled back with a grin. "Why don't you tell me?"

I was helpless without my poison. I didn't have Cerberus by my side. Even Cyrus was in the other room, most likely dancing with a pretty girl and not thinking about me at all.

If I was still poisonous, he would be at my mercy. He would be in a trap he couldn't escape. Preene's King would be mine.

I may no longer have my drug, but I still smelled an opportunity.

My hands hooked around the king's shoulders. "Give me a little time to decide.”