Khukri stood on The Ambition’s prow, staring at the full moon as wind whipped through her fur. It’d been three years since she’d seen the night sky in all its true glory, with endless pinpricks of light serving as a backdrop for a celestial object so beautiful you didn’t need night eyes to see it.

She breathed in the salty spray, closing her eyes to let scent take over. The smell! The smell was even more beautiful. No matter how far she stretched in any direction, nothing but salt greeted her. Just her and Master, floating in an endless void without so much as a speck of moss or mold to bother them.

Since Khukri went feral, she’d relaxed somewhat, letting Master clean her in a huge tub of warm water as a reward for leading her packmates directly into his trap. He’d been very, very thorough. She suspected he enjoyed her reward as much as she had, but the important part was to be presentable to help Master move everything to the cargo hold of his new ship.

The cabin door swung closed, alerting her to Master’s presence before he even spoke. “How’s it feel? First night away from The Direwood? I was only there twelve weeks and I already missed the stars.”

“It’s so open.” Khukri turned to him, fur fluttering wildly in the wind. “I’m just glad there’s no more meetings.”

Master was back to wearing his mishmash of peasant’s clothes, complete with a cloak he curled into to keep the wind out. “Sorry.” He leaned on the rail next to her, looking out over the sea. “I needed to tie up loose ends to make sure Sashura didn’t turn on us. I know I haven’t really been there since, y’know...”

Hadn’t been there was an understatement. Not only did Khukri spend most of the week sitting in rooms being useless, but that bath was the closest she’d had to sex since Master bent her over Maya and made her beg. She’d have worried he didn’t want her anymore if she didn’t know how strange he got. “Well, you’re here now.” Khukri slid into him, nuzzling his shoulder. “So what’s next? Sibir?”

“Eventually.” Master wrapped his arm around her, letting her burrow closer. “For now, we’re going to the Azure Syndicate. We’ll need more money to make the journey, plus there’s my family. I have to pay them back.”

Right. It was only natural Master would want payback for the filthy rebels who took his throne and killed his family. The debt would be settled in blood, one body at a time if she needed to. “Master? When you bought me, you said you’d give me something if you made it out alive?”

He let out a low chuckle, giving her a small squeeze. “For you? Anything.”

She hesitated, pushing him back with a hand on his chest. “This is important to me, okay? I need you to be serious.”

The smile faded as Master stepped back. “Sorry. I’m listening.”

Knots in Khukri’s stomach twisted and fluttered, making her fidget as she tried to steady her breath. She was the best, and Master wanted her, even after she’d gone feral. Maybe she was a little unstable, but no one could possibly please him the way she would, and if they tried she’d rip out their fucking heart.

Khukri pushed Master’s cloak aside and drew the old sabre, then stepped back with a deep breath. She sank to one knee, setting the sword’s point on the deck and rested both hands on the pommel. “Master? Please make me your Whip.”

Wind whistled across the deck, making Master’s cloak flap furiously as he stared, mouth slightly open. “Why?”

“I’m loyal, and strong. I’ve watched Maya for three years, and I know if you just gave me a chance-”

“That’s not what I meant.” Master pulled his cloak shut. “I meant I destroyed your slave papers and you didn’t go insane. You’re free. Why would you want to be anybody’s Whip, let alone mine?”

Khukri cocked her head, studying him. After a moment she rose, holding the weapon in both hands. “Is that a serious question?” She stepped closer. “Didn’t you take me back because you understood?”

“Take you back? I never wanted you gone.” Master cupped her head in his hands. “We’re going somewhere new, with nothing holding us back. We can have a normal relationship.”

After a deep breath, she straightened. This was okay, she was okay. Master was slow, but he was good at learning, so she only had to make him understand. “A lot of people hurt me, Master.”

He went still, jaw tightening.

“Someone took me as a baby and hurt me, and they didn’t stop until all I could think about was being useful. That’s what you paid for.”

A lump ran down Master’s throat as he withdrew his hands, like her past was a disease that made her untouchable, unworthy. “No one’s going to hurt you anymore; you’re free now. You can heal, and I’ll-”

Irritation flashed inside a shell of horror, leaving her to discard the forgotten sword as she pressed into him, grabbing his cloak with both hands. “No! That’s why you like me, idiot. I was literally made for you.”

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Master shifted uncomfortably, putting his hands on her wrists as he tried to pull away. “Khukri? Let go.”

No! No, it wasn’t that he didn’t want her, he just didn’t understand! If she could only explain better! She grit her teeth, pulling tighter. “You like me, and hate what was done to me, but those aren’t two different things. There wasn’t a ‘me’ before the pain. I am what was done to me. I am a weapon. I’ve been telling you that.”

“I said, let go!” Master yelled, trying to shove her away.

Khukri snarled, pulled back to yank him off balance, then planted her foot on the bulwark behind her and launched into him, driving him off his feet and into the deck. He gasped as she pinned him, fingers still wrapped around his cloak. “You can’t strip away the parts of me that make you uncomfortable! When you wash them away there’s nothing left!”

His horrified eyes flicked right, only to settle on her and intensify once he’d seen her notice. Her gaze drifted, finding the object he’d looked for, his sabre, the handle only an inch from his outstretched fingers. Goddess help her, she’d gotten too worked up and scared him again. Khukri slowly reached out, sliding the weapon into his hand, then closed his fingers and set the blade across her throat. “It’s still me, Master,” she said, trying to calm down. “You don’t need to be scared. I wouldn’t hurt you, I love you.”

For a moment he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as the sound of waves slowly lapping at the hull relaxed her. Finally, he lowered the sword, setting it above his head with a sigh. “I love you too.”

“You don’t even know me,” Khukri protested. “You paid hundreds of thousands for me, and I’ll be anything you want, but all you want is the one thing I’m not.”

Master swallowed, running hands up and down her sides through her fur. “I love you,” he repeated. “I did a lot of messed up stuff to survive, stuff I can’t take back. I can’t undo what happened, but I want to help.”

She let out a nervous laugh, setting her hands beside his head as she leaned, engulfing him in her shadow. “You’re kind, and it’s my favourite thing about you, but you’re not strong enough to help anyone, not yet. That’s what makes me perfect for you. I can do all the dark things you can’t; I can make you strong. Wield me, Master. Let me protect you.”

“You can’t go around killing people,” Master insisted, gripping her sides tighter. “I want to make the world better.”

“We’ll be the good guys!” Khukri’s ears twitched up and her tail started to bat about Master’s knees. “I know they say wolves are too unstable to be Whips, but you don’t need to worry. I can get a bit… enthusiastic, but I’ll only hurt your enemies.” Sure, she’d tried to kill her old pack, but in her defence, why would Master need a feral wolf if not to butcher those who dared oppose him? She’d assumed it was a test of her loyalty, to prove she’d serve him no matter how dark his need. “I’ll be your good girl, I promise.” She lowered over him, lips inches from his.

“...And this is what you want? It’d make you happy?” Master couldn’t meet her eyes.

She lowered further, draping over him as their noses touched. “I want you to need me. I don’t care how. If you need someone to love, or hurt, make it me.”

His chest rose and fell slowly as their lips touched, sharing a long slow kiss before she let him go. “Khukri… I want you. But keeping you like this, it’s wrong.”

“I don’t care.” Khukri smiled at his guilty eyes. He’d already given in, he just didn’t know it yet. “I want someone to use me, and I’ve thrown away everything hoping it’d be you.”

Master released her, closing his eyes with a long sigh. “...I don’t know where I’m going, or what to do when I get there, but whatever it is, I don’t think I can do it alone. If I’m gonna… if you’ll stay, I want you to be happy, and I need to know when you’re not.”

She squirmed, grinding her body to entice him. “You shouldn’t worry about-”

“No,” Master said, closing his eyes tighter. “I need to know when you’re unhappy, more than anything. I don’t want you to pretend, or try to fix me so I don’t care. If you want to be my Whip, that’s the price.”

Khukri snatched the weapon and slowly rose. Under her guiding hand, Master would become a man worthy of leading the greatest pack, of even leading her. If all she needed to do to make that happen was be happy, it barely counted as a price to pay. Once he was up, she knelt again, posing as a knight before the exiled King of Tythic. “Master, please make me your Whip.”

“Rise, Khukri,” Master ordered, resting a hand on her head. “and serve as my Whip, for as long as you’re capable of holding the position.”

A shiver ran down her body as she rose. As far as she knew, no wolf had served as Whip since they were first civilized hundreds of years ago. It was a position reserved for the most loyal and reliable dogs, used to keep the less obedient in line and see their owner’s will enforced. It was the highest honour she could hold, and she wouldn’t disappoint him.

“There’s something I’d like to give you,” Master said, lowering his arm.

Her insides twitched, hoping Master was about to make her beg. “Oh? You don’t have to...”

He walked past, resting his hips on the bulwark and looking at the moon. “I know this’ll sound silly, but Deianira came to me a year ago today. The first full moon after winter.”

She cocked her head, leaning beside him. She’d never actually found out if Deianira had truly come to him, or if his magic came from the Dusk Empire’s stolen artifact. Either way, she had no proof, but she’d play along with whatever story he liked.

“There’s this… island thing. A kind of celebration, it’s dumb. I never liked going...” Master trailed off, nervously staring at the deck. It was cute, him still being nervous around her. She’d have thought that after pledging her undying loyalty there wouldn’t be much cause for nervousness, but Master was always a weird one.

“It’s still me, Master.” Khukri handed him his sword so he could slide it back into its sheath. “You can tell me anything.”

He sighed, but nodded. “Right, right, I was wondering… and it’s fine if you say no, this isn’t an order, but I was wondering if you’d like my antlers.” Immediately after speaking, he flinched as though slapped. The rest came tumbling out in a jumbled mess, tripping over itself as he babbled. “I thought maybe you could use a spear since we don’t have one. I can’t make it but I could get a smith on the mainland to use a mist wraith claw as a blade and the material in antlers is really sturdy so it’d make a decent haft but if there’s not enough-”

Khukri pressed her fingers into his muzzle, making him mumble incoherently before going silent. “I’d love that, Master. Thank you.” She shook her head at his boyish grin. Master really was a weird one, but so was she, and that kind of made her perfect