Miyoko swallowed hard as her eyes danced across the line of tables laden with a selection of tasty treats prepared by their host. At each, men wearing revealing black and white uniforms worked diligently to keep the food flowing. On one side, they expertly sliced fruits and berries before arranging them onto beautiful platters. On the other, they maintained a sizzling grill packed with seasoned vegetables.

It was the kind of hazardous setup that would never be allowed in the east, but Miyoko supposed it suited the island barbarians' aesthetic.

Before she’d stolen the gems, such offerings would’ve been tantalizing treats, but after months of starving, they were irresistible. Miyoko brushed her slave collar with a hesitant hand. In the Azure Syndicate, slaves couldn’t eat the same food as their masters, but in Tythic, rules for slaves were far less uniform.

At a glance, Miyoko didn’t see a separate area for slaves to eat. In fact, she hadn’t seen any slaves since she entered the building. Maybe no one would notice if she grabbed a bite. Actually, what was the worst she’d get, a beating? Yeah... those cherry tomatoes were worth a beating.

Miyoko maintained a dignified pose as she approached one of the men and gazed upon his selection, swallowing once more. A swathe of tiny tomatoes sat in a dish, skins glistening from the coating of butter used to adhere a variety of dry herbs, disturbed only by the blackened, cracked lines from the grill.

For a long moment, she and the chef locked eyes, then Miyoko picked up the dish.

He blinked. “Um...”

Miyoko hastily popped three into her mouth. Her teeth easily snapped through the perfectly charred skin, and the rich, velvety butter melded with the tomato’s sweetness as it crushed between her tongue and the roof of her mouth. She maintained eye contact as the flavours danced about her tongue, savoring the rare treat before swallowing.

“Do... Do you want carrots?” the man asked.

For a moment Miyoko’s eyes narrowed, wondering if he was making a joke.

He coughed nervously, then used a slotted spoon to withdraw a stack of carrots, cut into tiny portions, from the heavy metal pan at his side. “Er... baby carrots?” Some sort of thin red marinade dripped from the spoon, sizzling as it hit the angry grill.

Damn it. Miyoko had been defensive for so long it was practically second nature. This stupid deer-boy was probably a skilled chef who got dragged here, dressed in a skimpy outfit for the governess’s pleasure, and offered enough money to make it worth his time. “Please,” Miyoko mumbled before popping another tomato into her mouth.

A spoonful of carrots fell to the grill. The fire hissed hungrily, leaping from the embers to engulf the juices raining down liberally as the chef fanned them out.

“Careful,” Khukri warned, withdrawing from Ashling’s side to join her.

Miyoko flinched, defensively pulling the bowl against her chest as she swallowed. “Seriously? I need Master’s permission to eat?”

“It’s not that…” Khukri let out a small sigh. “Recovering from starvation is a difficult process, and we’re just trying to help. We care about you.”

A small snort exited Miyoko’s lungs before she could stop it. Between Khukri's constant threats and nightly trysts, she was pretty sure she knew all she needed about their priorities. “People who care don’t usually attack each other.”

Khukri gave Miyoko a moment of silence to savour the bliss of squishy tomatoes before finally speaking. “I’m sorry. I’m still learning to be a Whip and I got emotional. I shouldn’t have challenged Master’s authority.”

“That’s what you’re sorry for?” Miyoko asked. “That you got smacked around by your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Khukri corrected, narrowing her eyes. “He’s my master, and yours too. You’d do well to remember that.”

“Yeah?” Miyoko sighed and set the bowl down. “Well, ‘Master’ seems to think you’re his girlfriend.”

“Of course he does. He’s an idiot.”

The words struck Miyoko dumb, leaving her staring in disbelief.

“What?” The wolf asked, jerking her head toward Ashling and Robyn chatting on the other end of the room. “He’s all the way over there; he can’t hear us.”

“If you think he’s…” Miyoko couldn’t bring herself to say the words, lest she trigger some sort of trap. “Why are you so interested in obeying him? What’s he got on you?”

“Master makes me good.” The line was delivered with the exact mindless devotion it implied. When Miyoko only continued to stare, Khukri sighed. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“I don’t wanna join your cult. I’ve done that once, it sucks. So, I’m just gonna-” Miyoko took a step away.

Khukri’s ears twitched, then she reached out, roughly pulling Miyoko back in place. “You never got your carrots.” she growled.

The chef swallowed, struggling to maintain a smile as his eyes slid down to the batch searing on his grill.

“This food is delicious.” Khukri said, spearing a cherry tomato on one of her claws. “You don’t know how to cook something like this on your own, and this man is just giving it to you. It would be rude to leave before he’s done.”

With a hard swallow and a glance at the grill, Miyoko settled with a nod. “Yeah... okay, sorry. I’m not running off.”

“Good.” The tomato slid from Khukri’s claw into her mouth, where it was mauled between pointed teeth. “I was free, once, for a few hours. It was... it was the best feeling I’ve ever had in my life. I could think and feel whatever I wanted.”

“Yeeess,” Miyoko said encouragingly. “Being free, super great feeling. Liking the story so far.”

“I felt like...” Khukri swallowed the tomato’s mangled husk. “In the exchange, they made me hunt beasts they were scared of, and that made me valuable. Outside of it? I’m the thing they’re scared of.”

“So...” Miyoko leaned in hopefully. “You listen to him because free wolves get hunted?”

“Oh no...” A wry chuckle fell from Khukri’s lips. “If I was free, I’d still be the one hunting.”

As the implications washed over Miyoko her blood ran cold, making her jump when the chef eagerly dropped a platter of grilled carrots onto the table next to her. When she looked back, Khukri had moved uncomfortably close.

“That wasn’t a threat.” Khukri’s voice was soothing and apologetic. “I want to be civilized, like Master. He tells me what I can think and feel, he makes me good. Just like I’ll make you good.”

That did nothing to make Miyoko less scared. “Make me good?”

A carrot squelched beneath Khukri’s claw, then drifted up to Miyoko’s lips as the wolf smiled down at her. “You haven’t told Master you and your friends are criminals, and you’ve been looking for a way to escape since we reached Isle Point. A good girl wouldn’t do things like that.”

Those eyes bore into Miyoko... no, through Miyoko and straight into Ghost. This thing, this monstrosity so terrible Tsu issued an Edict of genocide, saw her. “What?”

“I’m never letting you go.” Khukri smiled, as though the line was meant to be comforting. The carrot pressed against Miyoko’s lips, but when she opened her mouth to accept it, Khukri slid her entire claw inside. The soft vegetable hooked on her teeth, tantalizing her tongue with a mixture of exotic spices and sugar, though her enjoyment was muted somewhat by the claw dragging along her inner cheek as it left.

“I want to be Master’s girlfriend, but I’m his slave first,” Khukri said, claw slipping from Miyoko’s lips and trailing down her chin. “I want to be your friend, but I’m your Whip first.” The claw slithered through Miyoko’s fur, coming to a stop at her collar. “Swallow.”

Miyoko had been so transfixed on the psychopath in front of her she hadn’t realized the carrot between her gnashing teeth had turned to paste. With as much dignity as she could manage, she swallowed.

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A predatory grin formed as Khukri let the claw drift away. “I allow you a certain level of disrespect because I value your honesty, but I know you won’t be honest until you accept your place. That’s why I spend my nights memorizing your scent.”

A cold chill ran down Miyoko’s spine. “What?”

“It takes time, but it’s worth it to know my friend will never get lost.” The woman’s teeth peeked out from behind her lips as manic glee swirled behind her eyes. “I already memorized Master’s, but I know I make you uncomfortable, so I’ve been using your winter coat.”

“…Are you insane?”

“That’s what I’ve been telling you…” Khukri’s ears perked up and she turned her head with a sigh. “Times up. Robyn just sent some of her guards to follow Master to the docks. Set everything on fire and head back to The Ambition. Master and I will meet you at Isle Point.”

Miyoko glanced back at the chef, who met her gaze with a horrified expression. “What? You can’t possibly—”

Khukri pressed forward, pushing Miyoko against the table as she issued a threatening growl. “Why do you fight for the sake of fighting, little bunny? I’m trying to be nice and give you orders you like. Make those a struggle, and I’ll start giving you less enjoyable ones.”

Miyoko’s eyes swept around the room, watching more and more people sidling away. They could all see she was in trouble, but they were the upper crust of society, each only interested in themselves. Despite the changing races, this display of wealth wasn’t any different from those of the east. Deer-girls supervised a group of scantily clad men, setting up their instruments on a makeshift stage. Hundreds of rich jackasses celebrated their power and influence by showing off how they could make others serve. At that moment, she understood what Khukri saw. She didn’t want them to die, but arson? Yeah, arson sounded like a good time.

“I met you a week ago,” Miyoko protested, albeit far weaker. “You have no idea who I am.”

The wolf pressed against her, releasing a soft breath that made Miyoko quiver as Khukri’s muzzle grazed her ear with a whisper. “I know how to make people happy. It’s why I exist. By the time you join my pack, I’m going to make sure you’re very, very happy.”

“Okay, okay.” Miyoko put her other hand on Khukri’s chest, gently pushing back, begging for the claustrophobic presence to end. “I get it, back off.”

A small, pleasant smile crossed Khukri’s face as she stood back, giving Miyoko a condescending pet. “See? There’s a good girl.” She then turned and made her way toward the back door.

The most immediate satisfaction would come from simply walking out the front door and leaving the idiots to their fate. Unfortunately, that left her with a whole host of problems, including escaping a goddamn island without getting arrested - again. She didn’t know the first thing about navigation, so stealing a boat was a death sentence. Maybe Sean would help her escape, maybe, but it didn’t get her any closer to those gems. Switching sides was out of the question too; Governess Robyn was from Clan Inisraighe, and Ghost might’ve firebombed her brother… along with the original holder of her current ASN...

Oops.

“Fucking asshole idiot rich boy…” Miyoko grumbled, ripping her shirt open as she stalked toward one of the servers with a crystal decanter of spirits. She hastily unwound the bandage placed across her chest, letting her breasts bounce freely as she wrapped it around her hand.

The serving boy hesitated upon seeing her, mouth opening as his eyes dropped to her chest. “Yeah, they’re tits, grow up,” she grumbled, snatching the liquor with her free hand before decking him with the wrapped one. The solid crack of his nose against her knuckles was muffled slightly as he dropped, and she wasn’t waiting to see if he got back up.

A rich, fruity aroma tinted the overwhelming stench of alcohol as she turned the container onto her hand. People cried out in confusion as fleeing guests ran into each other, though a few smart ones thought to call the guards. Naturally, none bothered to help the wounded server themselves.

Miyoko ignored their wailing; the guards were too far to stop her, at least the ones who didn’t feel like shooting through a couple people who might sign their paychecks. The wrap slipped from her hand as she forced it into the decanter’s top, apologetic eyes drifting to the chef who’d witnessed Khukri’s insane rambling. He was the only one who understood why things were about to go very, very wrong.

“You’re gonna want to run,” Miyoko warned, stopping at his station to snatch the pan filled with oil and marinade. With a displeased sigh, she splattered the mixture over the table in a wide arc. The results were instantaneous. Bright light spilled over the guests as a fireball erupted, making them scream and bump into incoming guards as they scrambled for safety. With a steady hand, Miyoko lowered the bandage into the flame, which instantly caught. Then she turned to the centre of the room and cocked back her arm.

“Fuck the State!” she screamed, scattering panicked guests as she flung the makeshift bomb with as much force as she could muster.

The bottle exploded against the ceiling, erupting into a rain of flaming liquor and shards of glass. First, the curtains hanging from the ceiling caught, followed closely by the carpet as searing liquid cascaded onto the guests below.

Robyn’s guards screamed for Miyoko to surrender. Why did they always try that? What possessed a person to see someone ready to burn it all down and think, ‘Maybe she’ll stop if we yell loud enough?’ The exits clogged as guests crammed together into horrific writhing masses of bodies trying to escape. Incidentally, more people were likely to die being crushed in the escape than the fire itself.

As guards finally broke through the wave of fleeing guests, Miyoko charged to meet them, waiting just shy of striking distance before coiling her legs and launching into the sky. Her feet slipped over the points of extended halberds and carried her into the burning curtains. The acrid stench of burning cloth flooded her nose as she grabbed an unburnt section of one.

Miyoko held her breath, smoke stinging her eyes as her momentum pulled the curtain back. She released the pan with everything she had and delivered a vicious kick, allowing the recoil to push her further as the missile streaked into a second story window.

It crashed through, connecting burning iron, shattered glass, and a very confused woman watching the chaos unfold from the safety of the second floor. Miyoko promptly sailed through after, crashing into the screaming woman and riding her into the ground. Despite the inferno downstairs, there wasn’t much danger of it spreading outside the stone room. Luckily, people weren’t reasonable, a truism that pulled double weight for rich folks. “Fire!” Miyoko screamed, snatching up the pan and leaping to an area free of broken glass. “Fire! It’s spreading! If it gets to the stairs we’ll all be trapped!”

The guests closest to her only watched in horror and confusion, but most on this floor hadn’t seen her entrance. A torrent of horrified guests washed down the stairs, sweeping back guards attempting to reach her. Those assigned to watch the second floor were stunned, paralyzed without orders in the sudden chaos. The smarter ones attempted to calm the masses, but their guest list was a who’s who of not listening to peasants. A flash of green silk clouded Miyoko’s sight for a moment, then collided with her. Pain radiated through Miyoko’s shoulder as she hit the floor, though she instinctively rolled to the wall to avoid getting trampled. Chaos leveled the playing field, but by its very nature, damaged all those who lived within it. She rose, screaming as she brought the pan to bear against an exterior window, showering the back deck with broken glass as it bashed through.

Miyoko leaped from the mindless throng onto a slanted wooden roof outside, frantically scanning the situation on the ground. When it came to wealthy deer-girls, fighting outdoors was far more dangerous than in close quarters. Even at a three hundred feet, a well trained guard with a warbow could end you before you heard the shot.

Below her, guests screamed as they flooded from the building, so any guards beneath were probably too distracted and disorganized to target her. That left any guards out front, which she couldn’t see, and the guards assigned to the docks which were…

Miyoko blinked in disbelief as the whiplike cracks of warbows resounded through the docks. The dock guards wildly fired into the ocean, screaming for someone to sound the alarm. It didn’t take long for Miyoko to locate their target. Ashling cowered behind a boat’s bulwark as it drifted out to sea, while Khukri stayed low and raised the sails.

They're stealing the boat! The idiots are stealing the goddamn boat! Splintered wood showered the deck as blurred arrows smashed into the hull and mast at top speed, ripping apart from the impact.

If Miyoko fled, she could probably make it back to The Ambition. Unfortunately, right now, fucked up as it was, she was Ashling’s property, and any reputable hired crew would ensure their client’s belongings were properly secured. Furthermore, if Ashling never made it back, then the marina could have his property resold to pay off storage fees. As dumb and crazy as they were, she needed them to survive this.

“Rabbit!” A guardswoman yelled from the manor, setting a hoof on the windowsill as she jumped toward Miyoko’s roof. “Stop right there!”

“Fuck off!” Miyoko yelled, flinging the pan. The guard let out a startled cry as the heavy iron mass caught her in the chest, stopping her momentum with a solid thunk and dropping her to the deck below. This new identity of hers made her waste too much time thinking. Ghost was a survivor, and hesitating got you killed. With a deep breath, Miyoko leaped to the ground, then took off running. Guards yelled from above for someone to stop her, but hundreds of fleeing guests made communication next to impossible.

With another massive leap, Miyoko cleared the iron gate and hit the ground running.

By now, the boat was at full sail, picking up speed as it hugged the shoreline to break the archers’ line of sight.

“Khukri! You goddamn psycho! If you can hear me, I’m coming!” Miyoko built up speed as she raced up an incline that ended with a steep cliff into the water.

When she reached the cliff, her speed only gave a fraction of a second to see the ship. She didn’t hesitate. For a moment she was weightless, listening to the cracks of warbows as she streaked over the water. With a terrified squeal, Miyoko tucked in her legs and crashed into the side of the ship. Pain radiated through her hips as a stinging shock rolled through the muscles straining to absorb the impact. Desperately, Miyoko reached for the bulwark, scratching the hull in vain as she slid toward the water.

Ashling burst over the edge and grabbed her outstretched hand. One perilous second later, she grabbed the other, hind claws scrabbling against the hull as she struggled up the side. An arrow smashed the hull a foot away, making Miyoko scream in pain as splinters scattered across her face and arm.

Her incoherent screaming continued as Ashling hauled her over the side, calling to Khukri. “I got her!”

The ship lurched, moving down the coast as fewer and fewer arrows reached their target. “It won’t take them long to get the word out!” Miyoko warned. “They’ll send ships to catch us!”

“We’ll be gone before then,” Ashling assured, leaving Miyoko behind the bulwark as he hurried to a bulky metal contraption in the ship’s centre. “Khukri! Make sure she’s alright, I’m setting a course away from Ardmore.” He dramatically slammed a lever down.

A loud roar made the ship rumble beneath her and pick up speed so fast the sails filled and tilted them backwards. Khukri folded her arms around Miyoko protectively while Ashling yelped in horror. The mast pivoted, bringing the sails in line with the wind, and dropping the boat flat with the ocean where they raced away in a spray of seawater.