My cold tone piques his interest and he watches me, his nose wrinkles in what might be disgust. He is displeased by something and he tips his gaze to the bath suspiciously. I roll my eyes at the hesitance, "It's water. I know you slaves rarely bathe but there it is. Just get in."

I opt to leave, startled as he grasps my wrist and I flinch away, trying to wrench free from the iron grip. "You could use your words! What gives you the right to grab me?" I snap, watching this animalistic man in bewilderment.

"I don't trust you. I want you to wash me, as it is a sign of loyalty. You must be accustom, I'm sure your servants have bathed your spoiled self." I see no sign of jest in his eyes. He wants me to perform an act as if I were a common maid.

Staring at him, I wait for the humor. "I think you are up to the task, it is quite simple, I trust you'll figure it out," I respond and his expression clouds with that same look, annoyed with me but somehow finding me amusing.

As I move to leave, his voice catches me in my tracks. "Didn't we talk about this earlier?" His response has me scowling, so he was fully intent on turning me into his servant?

This vile creature, wishing to reduce me to the lowest form. "Undress then!" I command, gesturing to his clothes and he waves a finger at me, condescending in his mannerisms.

"Is that any way to speak to your Alpha?" His tone is patient and yet restrained, he looks at me as if I am dense. An uneducated youth of a great Lord. "I feel as though you are more qualified for the task of undressing me."

Alpha stands patiently and I allow my eyes to travel down his form. He is a mess, his clothes and skin covered in dried blood and grit, the smell of masculinity, and the woods emanating from him.

"As you wish, Alpha." I try not to sound sarcastic as I throw in a half-hearted bow. My long fingers look ghostly against his dark colors, the stiff material of the garments are rough to the touch. I unbutton his vest, pulling it off of him.

The leather is worn and aged; a handmade garment with crude stitching and offering little protection for the large form it conceals. I fold it and set it aside, ignoring the patience in which he regards me. As I approach I gesture for him to put his arms up and pull his stained shirt over his head, only to gasp at the sight of him.

Jagged scars stretch over his left shoulders, into his pectoral muscle. They're deep, ragged claw marks. His neck bears the scars of a bite wound, deep, light-colored mars on the sunkissed skin. I realize my hands have frozen and I'm starring but I'm unapologetic at the discomfort my gawking seems to cause him.

"A gift. From my father." Alpha answers my question before I can ask and his cryptic expression suggests it's a sensitive subject. My eyes travel over the light peppering of chest hair on his broad chest. I notice the hair is gray and I steal a glance back up at the tangled locks on his head and notice that, too, is gray- not silver. He can't be that old, not with this physique.

My hands find his pants, as I unbutton them the shame begins to wash over me, here I am undressing the man who has killed my family. I jerk them off his sculpted hips and allow them to fall to the ground only to turn away quickly, not allowing myself a glance, and quickly travel over to the shelf to grab a few clothes, towels, and soap.

The heavy belt and multiple knife sheaths land on the floor with my dignity, a dull thump. When I turn, he is no longer watching me, as he stands before me completely naked, his bought taut and rigid. It brings back memories of my time at the school for Solomonari, and the atrocities that occurred there.

My instructor had favored me, I was his pet for lack of a better word. I shudder at the thought and my eyes are unseeing as I dip the cloth in the water and press it to his chest. He stiffens under my touch, I pause in disgust, but it's not a pleasurable thing for him.

I scrub his chest and reveal more and more tanned skin as I rub away the dirt and blood only to wonder how much of this is his own as I reveal healing cuts. We are silent as I wash one of his arms. Even so, my instructor knew my status, I was never forced to bathe him as a servant.

Running my fingers over the coils of muscle in his arms; his hands are rough against my own. As I finish with his chest, I reluctantly start on his legs. Surprised at his lack of commentary, I steal a glance up but he's not looking at me and it almost sparks a sense of anger that he has so little interest.

He's focused on anything but me, staring off into the distance. He denied me even the dignity of acknowledgment. I move to his back, once more, I'm floored by the tapestry of what a body can endure. The scars run over his shoulder blade and slash across his back in jagged lines that stretch towards his lower back.

Alpha visibly shudders and the muscles in his neck tighten at my touch. I note this for later; this has to weaken him somehow. There is no way someone with this much damage doesn't see impairment from it. It was a shame, really, it must have made his master very disappointed to see it considering he is a fine example of what my father was trying to accomplish.

The thought embarrasses me, I shouldn't consider this man a piece of equipment but I immediately forgive myself when I think of all the suffering he has caused me in the past few days.

As I return to his front, I work my way over his toned abdominal muscles and feel the heat radiating off of him on my chilled fingers. We are opposites, him and I. When I meet his eyes, I see a spark that is known to me as the same gaze has fallen on my form many times in my short existence, desire is my curse.

I take a deep breath before filling one of the fluffier cloths with water to ring it out on his head. The action brings a startled inhale from Alpha, his height causes the water to splash down my sleeves in an icy blast as I come to realize that my healer's robes are not in the best condition after this activity.

"Well, if you wanted a proper bath you should have brought a chair. You're too tall to bathe standing, really you should be in the tub." The complaint is half-hearted as I strip off my vest and robe. I have a silk undershirt that is tucked that into my pants, guarding my chest against his eyes. I do not allow anyone to see my chest, not anymore.

"You don't get out much do you?" Alpha's voice is disapproving, trailing his fingers casually over my ivory skin. Hints of the damage under my shirt peek out beneath the sleeves.

"No. I have responsibilities. Besides, I just got back from my training." Don't allow yourself to go there, I remind myself as I reach up to soap his hair. His expression darkens with my tone, with the insinuation that I work harder than him. I do, I'm not a criminal.

"I don't think you can compare your responsibility to mine." His voice is low. I've offended him? I almost want to laugh.

"No. I suppose you really can't. Considering that I'm mastering a craft and you're trying to destroy my Kingdom and everyone in it." My voice is tight; I feel myself teetering on the edge.

"Your people enslaved mine, treated us worse than dogs, I feel this judgment is just." The heat that is radiating off of him is starting to climb, getting hotter which each moment that passes. I take another fluffy cloth and wring it out on his head to rinse away the soap, an act of defiance.

A low growl curls from his throat; I toss a towel at him. I'm done playing this game, I cross my arms as I walk away from him.

I can't do this. I can't talk politics with him, speak of fairness to a monster. "My mother did not deserve to die. You took vengeance on the innocent." My voice trails; I feel it coming so I wrap my arms around myself and try to hold it back. I can't cry in front of him. "She did not deserve to die," I repeat.

"People die every day, your mother was no exception. Any being who owned a Lycan slave was just as guilty as your father who cursed us. All magic users, the elves in Ziduri, as are the men who sit in the capital of the human cities and they will all see the same fate as your father."

I wheel around to face him, feeling the tears building. "Then kill me! Don't draw this out. Take your vengeance and leave to slaughter another society." His body vibrates as he struggles to control himself. The heat is unbearable and I realize the weight of my words. I can't help but think of my servants, the ones who truly raised me. The people of my city would be without hope should I perish here.

"I need you to find your father's book and destroy it so that this cannot happen to another species. We can not leave until you do so."

He is exhausting!

I stare at him, exasperated. My eyes search his face, how can he not understand? "It doesn't work that way! You can't just destroy the book! It, itself, is probably cursed! I'm useless to you, I can't control the spells from that book and even if I could I wouldn't use it to help you! You deserve what has happened to you, you can hardly even control what you are. An animal!"

I'm yelling now; I take my hands and slam them into the tub. It forms an ice layer beneath my fingertips, the water cracks, and groans as it freezes. He takes a step back and for the first time, I feel like he actually feels I'm a threat.

I smash the ice with my fists and inky black snake-like creatures curl from the basin, tiny dragons. The blood from my freshly cut hands drives them mad and they flicked their forked tongues at the scent.

I hear the snarl curl from Alpha's throat. All I have to do is command these little dragons and they will burn him to a crisp yet, young dragon magic is hard to control. There stands a good chance I will not live through this attack. But, that would be okay, I'm alone here. I can't rule a kingdom or lead a destroyed people back into thriving. I'm not my father.

Alpha's smooth voice pulls me out of my musings.

"This is not going to bring them back. None of this is going to bring them back. I'm not sorry about killing your father, he was a vile person and he had to be stopped. But it is unfortunate your mother had to suffer for his deeds and for that, I am sorry. I know what it's like to lose a mother."

I can't tell if he's sincere or just trying to tell me what I want to hear, probably the latter. I blink slowly, my eyes filming over with tears, I just miss her so much. "I'm sorry about your mother." He repeats again.

Breaking, I wave my hand over the basin and the hissing creatures slither back into the water. I feel like I'm going to drop to my knees, only, he steps forward to catch me. I allow him to support my weight as I lose myself in grief for my mother.

My bloody hands smear his clean chest and I want to be anywhere but here but at the same time, his arms are so warm and I allow myself this little bit of comfort.

I can always kill him later, for now, even the slightest bit of remorse is welcomed.

Looking up, his light blue eyes are wide and unsure of me, I must appear as though I've lost all sense. Perhaps I have.

I feel his hand close around mind as he lifts it to examine it. "You really did just get out of school, not the best magic trick."

"You're lucky I don't have my ax. You would be dead." The threat is very real but I can't bring myself to look threatening. I'm too exhausted, so, it comes out as more of a joke. Regardless, he allows for a hint of a smile.

Then, to my surprise, he runs his tongue over the palm of my hand on a particularly deep cut. I retract quickly; he has found a way to make me flush which is not easy to do. "Gross." I snap, examining my hand to see that the cut is fading, nearly healed.

"You could explain it better than I can."

"Well don't do it again." Though I am intrigued. I can see the command annoys him and he frowns, pulling his eyebrows together.

"Don't speak to me that way." His voice is low as his eyes meet mine and I give him a look of defiance, a challenge.

"Or what?" My retort is stifled as his lips meet mine and I consider pulling away but the warmth draws me in. He commands from me a response, I snake my arms around his neck to deepen the kiss as it feels so good to feel anything at this point. His tongue invades my mouth, I taste my blood which causes me to break the kiss, shoving away from him roughly.

His eyes blaze as he gages my expression.

"Do not touch me, dog." Yet as he seizes my arm, his chest heaving with restraint, I can't help but yield to the intensity. I kiss him and my hands tangle in his hair as I pull his face roughly to mine. My body clings to his hard form, the damned clinging to the pyre.

His hands travel to my hips and he pulls me against him, sending my body blazing. It is my way to preserve my own life, to use my body as a means of trade for my mortal form.

"Spoiled brat." He breaks the kiss and moves to attack my neck. I inhale sharply as I envision him tearing my throat out, pulling firmly on the tangled damp hair. My eyes search the ceiling, hoping to find what little remained of my self-worth.

He slides his hands up my thighs and his fingers slip under my shirt, I grasp his wrists as a form of defense. Alpha stops, retracting from me yet I don't want him to pull away. I retreat inside myself, if it meant surviving for my people, I would do what I must.

"No."I breathe, warning him with my eyes. "I... I want to leave my shirt on." I manage and he regards me curiously as I press my lips to his again. Having to stand on my tiptoes is hardly getting the job done so I fist my hand in his hair and pull him closer to me.

I'm rewarded with a groan as he catches my lower lip in his teeth and before I know I'm pressed against the cold stone wall. It chills me and I cling to his warmth.

Endure. I could endure if it meant survival.

"What do you want?" I gaze up at him, surprised by the question. Consent? What does he care about my consent?

"What do you think I want?" I go to kiss him but he avoids me, going low to kiss under my jaw. The sentiment is wasted on me, I block his mouth with my hand to protect my neck.

I don't need someone to love me, I don't need him to care. I need treatment for my disease, that I can only find relief through the use of my body. Isn't it obvious what I want? I grind my body against him in frustration. "Do you want permission? It's a bit late for formalities?"

"Tell me what you want." He extracts every ounce of my focus. I press against him, digging my fingers into his shoulders, and yet I can not produce the words as I shut my eyes, willing him to do his bidding. His hand captures my jaw, between his thumb and forefinger as I feel the weight of his gaze bearing down on me.

This isn't what I want, it's what I feel I must do. Reluctantly, I peer at him through my lashes and it's his undoing. He steps back from me, I slide down the wall panting from the heat of his body pressed against mine.

It is Alpha who retreats. "I've got business to attend to. I expect to see you in the dining hall for dinner."

I nod, numb.