I leaned against my chair's arm. Twenty or so lycans lounged on the stone floor, some gnawing at the previous day's dinner, others simply drying their fur by the twin hearths. Most had been on the night watch and thus caught in the thunderstorm. It was still a wonder to me how such weather didn't faze them.

"You look like an evil queen, sitting up there like you own the world."

I smirked beneath my usual half mask. "I'll take that as a compliment."

The man I captured, Brennon was his name, frowned. He did that a lot. "It wasn't meant as one. You look like a villain."

I shrugged. "I don't mind."

His gaze met mine. He was watching me, gauging my reaction, almost as if waiting for something. The man had become less compliant after his tour of my castle. His comments took a bitter edge, and his tongue had only grown sharper since.

"People will rally to end a tyrant's rule.” He scowled from his position at my side. "You might not want to be the one sitting on that throne then."

My eyes narrowed, glaring at him through the slits in my mask. "I'd like to see them try."

"One day you will."

My reply was cut off by a howl, followed by a chorus of yips and barks from lycans greeting the morning hunters. Thorn bounded into the hall, followed by several others. Hanging from the beta male's maw was a large buck, while the others carried smaller prey. Whoops and howls echoed from the stone walls as the black lycan reared up, shaking his kill above his head. With a savage growl, he tore a choice cut from the animal's side and tossed it in the air.

I caught the offering with a practiced ease. Knowing all eyes were on me, I ripped a mouthful from my portion. The hall exploded into chaos as the lycans fought for their own meals.

Brennon looked down upon the wreathing mass of bodies, his features twisted in disgust. "How can you stand it?"

"Ummm?" I hummed, before realizing he meant the meat. "It's not all that different, just softer. Here, try," I said, offering him some.

"Ugh, no thanks."

"Come on," I purred, leaning closer. "Fresh as it gets. Thorn is a great hunter and I bet this wasn't caught an hour ago."

"No." He pushed my gloved hand away. "I always wondered what kind of monster could call on lycans to ravage poor villages, but I can honestly say, my imagination did your savagery no justice."

That stung. Normally I wouldn't care, but he wasn't crying or screaming in anger, nor trying to lure me into a trap; he was simply stating what he thought. Something about his open honesty made it that much more real.

"Red," I barked, purposely avoiding his gaze as I glared out over the hall. The female lycan's head shot up, ears standing at attention. "Run downstairs and tell Henry to cook something for Brennon." She gave a quick nod and loped off to do my bidding.

A snort beside me. "Do you use lycans for everything?"

I scowled. He knew I also had human servants; he met them during the few days he stayed at the castle. "For everything they're capable of," was my answer.

A pause. Another measuring stare. "You shouldn't put so much trust in them."

"They're addicted. They won't betray me."

"Addictions can be broken."

"Not mine," I snapped. We glared at each other until a thought crossed my mind. My eyes widened. He was acting exactly like the lycans when they were craving a reward. Slowly, I pulled my glove from my hand. "Surely you must be desperate for it by now." I reached out to touch his cheek.

He slapped my hand away with a growl, careful to hit only where my sleeve covered. "I already told you, I have no interest in being your slave."

I blinked, unsure of what to say. I hadn't expected him to be able to refuse a second offer. "I don't want you as a slave..."

"Then why are you trying to get me hooked? Is that the only way you know how to make people like you?"

I froze, his words piercing me like a knife. His eyes flashed. Was this what he wanted? Below, the lycans quieted as they finished the last scraps of their meal. I was silent, not daring to speak lest my voice gave away the tears my mask hid.

The Lady of the Lycan Mountains didn't cry. She didn't care enough to cry.

"Keh," Brennon snorted. "Well, I suppose there isn't much else you can do. After all, who would love someone like you?"

There was a tightness in my throat closing off the passage until it became difficult to breathe. I stared at my human prisoner. Why had I brought him here? Why hadn't I let Cerberus kill him?

He shot me a withering glare. "Who do you think you are, going around murdering people, tearing apart people's families? Does it please you? Does it make you feel powerful to drive people to despair? Does their misery make you happy? Does-"

My high backed chair fell backwards, landing with a resounding crash. "I know I'm the villain, okay?" I shouted. "I know I'm a horrible shell of a person! No one ever gave me the chance to be anything else!"

"It was still your choice!" he shouted back. The hall had gone silent, all eyes focused on us.

"Well, maybe I'm just selfish then," I growled, trying to disguise my weeping with anger. "We can't all be heroes, and I got tired of suffering for other people's pleasure. Guess that makes me the bad guy then, even if they never gave a damn about me!" I turned on my heels and marched down the steps of the platform. A hand grabbed my arm, prompting snarls from the lycans. I glanced back, scowling.

Brennon leaned close. "So is it selfish pleasure that makes so much noise at night? Just why is it you keep that lycan in your chambers?"

I could feel myself turn red, though from anger or embarrassment, I couldn't tell. How dare he make such accusations! I wanted to deny it. I wanted with all my being to yell back that wasn't true at all. But then I would have to admit I had nightmares every night, despite all I did to prevent them. I couldn't be seen as weak.

Yanking away, I leveled him with a deadly stare. "Cerberus!" I barked. The lycan stood, awaiting my command. The hall was quiet. All I could hear was the pounding of blood through my ears. The human stared back, gaze equally dark and unwavering.

He looked... triumphant.

I spun around and marched towards the corridors. "Come."

***

The servants' quarters were on the lower levels of the castle, though unlike the dungeon, were partially above ground due to the mountain's steep slope. Thus, the corridor leading down was lit by both windows and torches. Going down the stairs hurt my knees. I did my best to ignore it, but I knew it affected my gait. Cerberus padded alongside me in silence.

When we got to the bottom of the stairs, I was still fuming. How dare Brennon speak to me in such a way? I should have him thrown from the castle, banished from my presence, hunted by my scouts. But, even as I thought such things, I knew I could never follow through with them. Something blocked my anger from being manifested in a way I would on any other.

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He refused my poison. No one else had done that. Now he was displaying symptoms of withdrawal, and still he turned away my touch. I could force it on him easily enough, make him too addicted to continue, yet I didn't want to. Neither did I want him to leave. He couldn't leave, not yet, not until...

Until what? The man hated me. The only thing I could ever expect from him was a knife in the back. It was foolish to think anymore of it.

My fingers tightened around the handle of the wooden door which led to the kitchen. My mind was so cluttered it was difficult to think.

"Was Red here?" I ground out, perhaps more harshly than I meant. It wasn’t Cerberus's doing that made me this way.

My guardian sniffed the air. "Yes."

"Good. Go find her."

The white lycan nodded and bounded back up the stairs. I took a deep breath to clear my thoughts before turning the knob and stepping into the kitchen.

The fire from the hearth and oven heated the room, despite the partially collapsed wall on one side. Boards had been wedged between falling stones, along with branches, leaves, and even clay. However valiant the effort to repair the damage, sun rays peeked through gaps near the top. I imagined the wind still managed to slip through when it came from the west.

The room was empty, but not abandoned. A pot hung in the hearth, cooking some sort of stew. Henry evidently got Red's message. I looked around. He wouldn't have wandered too far off if he was cooking. The sound of voices drew me out the back door.

The sun was shining bright. No wonder they were outside, days like this were rare. Henry stood upon noticing my arrival, dipping into a shallow bow. My maid, a younger woman named Mary, did a small curtsy. A few feet away, Rosie remained sitting on her log, acknowledging my presence with a nod.

"Hello, my Lady Desire!" Henry greeted cheerfully. "Long time no see! What brings you down to our humble station?"

I smiled. He lost quite a bit of weight since joining me, a far cry from the fat man I encountered in an outer village not two years ago. Perhaps it was his state of seemingly constant shaking. It certainly wasn't from running. The chunk Cerberus took out of his leg the first time assured he would never run, or even walk properly again.

"Maybe she got herself nipped again." Rosie was not nearly as polite as Henry. Neither was she as scared. She never bothered pretending. She made it clear many times that she served simply for the addiction and nothing else.

"I just-" Why had I come down to the servants' quarters? Normally I avoided them. Henry's fake kindness, Rosie's hostile attitude, Mary's starved expression; they reminded me far too much of the customers my more financially minded captors serviced. Those jailers were always the quickest to be killed, most often by their clientele. I rolled my tongue between my teeth. Perhaps I came to remind myself what humans were really like, or maybe to remind myself what I did to them.

Then again, there were no lycans present.

"Rosie," I said, voice regaining its confidence now that I had a purpose. The nurse eyed me, but made no indication she planned on moving. "I've been feeling... off lately."

She raised an eyebrow. "Really? Maybe it's all the raw meat you've eaten." Her tone held absolutely no concern.

I scowled. "I already explained this to you. Besides, it’s my joints."

She rolled her eyes, leaning back against a boulder behind her log. Bits of lichen fell from its surface into her short red hair. "You know, in the old world, people used to think lycans were humans changed by the full moon. Werewolves, they called them. They believed if you were bitten, you would turn into a werewolf too, like rabies."

"Superstition," I said. Of course I knew this. She probably read such things in one of my own books. "What of it?"

Rosie shrugged. "Could just be growing pains. Transforming into a seven-foot beast is bound to hurt." She closed her eyes, relaxing against the boulder. "I could always do a physical if you're really concerned."

"No." I snapped. She wasn't going to get my drug after mocking me. I would rather suffer than give her the satisfaction.

And she couldn't be trusted, the whispering reminded me. Such was evident by the open wound across her face Thorn gave her as a souvenir from her latest escape attempt. The lycans reached her mere minutes before she entered a village.

It wasn't that I doubted my servants would return, their addiction would be sure of that. But they knew of far too many holes in my castle's walls to be allowed to leave. And if Perimone learned I was physically ill, my facade of strength could fall apart.

"If I may," Henry stuttered. "I have some good news."

"I want to hear it."

"Whenfair delivered their tribute this morning. A hundred bags of flour." He gave a little bow. "What would you have me do with it?"

I sighed. I couldn't let these humans irk me, it would be far more dangerous if the lycans decided to test my strength. "Store what you can. Get rid of the rest."

"Oh," his face fell.

"What is it?"

The man's broad shoulders hunched over. "Well, I had hoped... with winter coming... we could give-"

"No."

"But-"

"Are you challenging me?" I growled. "Those are my taxes and I will do with them as I please. Stack them right here!"

A snarl sounded behind me. Henry gave a little gasp before hobbling toward the store room beside the kitchen. I turned around to see a black lycan crouched on the remains of a collapsed tower. His yellowing teeth glinted in the sunlight.

"Are you in need of assistance, my lady?"

"Thorn," I greeted. From the corner of my eye I saw Rosie glare at the canine. Somehow, my maid had managed to disappear, most likely in the kitchen. It was little surprise, avoiding the lycans kept her alive. "I have everything under control." I told it to myself as much as I did him. "What is it?"

He hopped down from the rubble and stood before speaking. "Nightmoon returned with a message from Graniteback. Jive refused to give tribute."

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes. My fingers ran through my hair. So Jive was rebelling now as well. I watched Henry stack sacks of flour on a black mark. He made sure to give the lycan a wide berth. I should visit the town and demand my tribute as I always did. I should have the lycans harass and terrorize the people until they gave in.

That was what the Lady of the Lycan Mountains would do.

But Jive was a smithy town. They mined metal from their mountain and forged it into horseshoes and tools. They were really of no use to me, just another dot on my map. They were like the blacksmith in Merrer, foolish, but innocent. They didn't deserve to die. Their tribute wasn't worth the bloodshed.

"My lady, there's something else."

"What is it?"

"A few days ago, Jive received a messenger from Askance." His dark eyes met mine. "Now they produce weapons."

I clenched my fists. Perimone had sent word. He was turning my villages against me, after he claimed to love me. My teeth ground together. He was supposed to be my pawn. I was supposed to be hunting down his predecessor, not playing games with him. He had to know I wouldn't stand the threat. He needed to surrender to my control.

"Destroy it," I hissed. "Gather your choice warriors and tear the town to its foundations. I want it obliterated… tonight."

A cruel grin spread over Thorn's features. "Yes, my lady."

I tugged my glove off. The lycan's eyes widened. A thin line of drool leaked from between long canines. He dropped to his knee. Even kneeling, his head was even with mine. Slowly, almost reverently, his clawed hand wrapped around my wrist. A tickling sensation shot up my arm as his tongue passed between my fingers. A smile tugged at the edge of my mouth. As rugged and harsh as Thorn could be, he was the most gentle with me.

My heartbeat slowed. Those teeth I had seen end the life of so many creatures brushed ever so carefully across my fingertips as he licked my palm. Thorn wouldn't hurt me. Thorn was loyal, and he would make sure others stayed so as well. At least for the moment, I was the master. I had what he most desired.

I let him have his full. I should have cut him off, pulled away and left him wanting more, but I couldn't bring myself to move. I savored his worshiping gaze as much as he savored my poison.

He released me with reluctance. His deep auburn irises glazed over as he looked to a window above the servant's quarters. White fur shone in the sunlight. Cerberus lept from the opening, landing lightly in Henry's path. The man stumbled back, then attempted to go around, only to once again be cut off by Red, who followed the albino. Both lycans ignored him as they trotted to me. Thorn gave a respectful dip of his head to his alpha before bounding off to do my bidding.

"Red," I addressed the female lycan, who did a similar gesture to me. "Run to Graniteback. Tell him not to let anyone leave Jive. Thorn will be along behind you with more warriors."

She nodded, then galloped off to the southeastern woods. Cerberus stood, watching until her tail disappeared in the dense forest. I noted he kept an unusually close eye on her as of late.

Heat began to grow beside me. Henry had managed to make an impressive pile of flour sacks. He stood back, flint and a steel knife in hand. Already, the fire had spread throughout the burlap and was rising by the moment. It rose into the air in a pillar of flames.

He was right; it was a waste. The people of the villages could use it during the harsh mountain winters. But if I gave it back, that would defeat the purpose of taking it in the first place. I didn't need any of the tributes. It was just a show of power.

I wondered who I was trying to prove it to, the people, the lycans, or myself?