The first year after being recaptured was spent in solitary confinement.
Lan actually preferred it in some ways. He couldn’t run free and the shackles dug into his flesh, but at least the vanguard weren’t bothering him. Nyx or his mate, Shaw, came by once a day to feed him.
It was hard to decide whose presence he preferred. Shaw regularly forgot to bring him food. If he did show up, sometimes he did so empty-handed and merely stared at Lan with equally empty eyes. Who does he hate? Me or himself?
The answer wasn’t one he cared to learn.
On the other hand, if Nyx visited, he was guaranteed some sustenance even if it was followed by a brutal beating. They were fewer and farther between so not the worst situation.
It seemed the tactic was isolation.
For any other wolf, it probably would’ve worked. Unlucky for them, Lan was used to this. He had been isolated even when others were around. His thoughts and dreams were more than abnormal and so he’d held them close to his heart ever since the beginning. No one cared to listen when he rambled about the wonders of humanity and big, brilliant societies.
And so, a relatively peaceful year passed. It gave Lan plenty of time to think about what he would do when the chance to escape arose.
The second year found him back in the field but effectively chained to someone’s side at all times. If it wasn’t Nyx, it was Dru. If not Dru, then Li. No one else would agree to being near Lan though. They were terrified after news spread of him tearing apart a packmate.
Even if Nyx was showing pity and properly training him instead of executing him, not enough progress had been made. Lan was subdued but his glare was so frigid, everyone knew he still hadn’t submitted.
“Ever thought getting fucked might improve your mood?”
Lan nearly choked on his meal. Turning slowly, he looked up at Dru who was lapping up the blood on his hands. It had been his turn to hunt for dinner and he had opted not to use a river for clean-up.
Fat dripped off cuts of roasting meat in the roaring fire. A sweet smell rose up, painting a scene that would’ve been friendly in any other situation.
Dru sank down beside Lan, not bothering to take hold of the heavy chain binding his shackles. The others weren’t as lenient with him. The last time Lan had asked why Dru trusted he wouldn’t make a break for it, he had simply responded that only an idiot would bolt on a whim.
That was when Lan decided Dru was the worst guard to try and escape from. Someone who had read his intent so clearly would track him too well. It has to be one of the others.
“So? Not interested in fucking or something?” Dru drawled, watching Lan take a slow bite of his slab of raw meat.
Swallowing carefully, Lan replied, “No.”
“You’re definitely a wolf though.” He frowned, looking sincerely confused. “We all have insanely high sex drives. Or what? You got too much Human coursing through you and it slows you down?”
Lan buried a sigh, finishing off his dinner and licking up the drops of blood clinging to his fingertips. What was he supposed to say? The truth?
You all fuck like you’re fighting. It’s terrible. He snorted. There was no way he wouldn’t be picking a fight by saying that. Even someone as calm and calculating as Dru would probably take offense. He might even try to prove Lan right.
Thus far, he’d escaped most everything except for the occasional groping hand. It seemed Nyx thought sex was a glorious and pleasurable endeavor. In his mind, such a thing could never be a punishment. Lan was actually thankful for his narrow-minded arrogance. It was one less thing he had to worry about in the dark of night.
“Well, if you change your mind, I’m available.”
Lan glanced at him but didn’t reply. Dru’s poker face unnerved him in different ways compared to Nyx. This man had his head on right, unlike Lan’s owner. That meant he had more tricks and secrets up his sleeves.
“I’m not particularly interested in mating or things like pack politics,” Dru admitted rather flippantly. His gaze clouded then, a hint of genuine emotion coming through. “I just think we’re more similar than you’d expect.”
If he was playing a game to gain Lan’s trust, it wasn’t going to work. Finding common ground wouldn’t change the bitter truth. I’m a prisoner and they’re my keepers. No amount of friendliness would convince him these packmates cared.
They were loyal to Nyx and that alone made them scum.
“Don’t believe me?”
“It just doesn’t matter,” Lan responded quietly.
Dru snorted. “Y’know, life might be easier for you without the prickliness.” He reached for one of the roasted slices of meat. “No one’s out to kill you here. Not so long as Nyx wants you alive. Wouldn’t this be more bearable if you compromised?”
Anger surged up but Lan shoved it back down immediately. He wasn’t going to fall for obvious provocations. Getting in an argument would lead nowhere. If anything, it would only give Dru more information about Lan’s behaviors and triggers. Knowing what he did about this particular packmate, that was exactly what he would aim for.
Dru was Nyx’s right hand in the vanguard. Within Valentine’s pack, he was also a reliable member who thought with his head not his heart or dick. Lan had seen him make cruel and kind decisions. Anything that had the most beneficial outcome for the highest number of packmates.
And for himself.
Maybe they were similar in some ways. Lan could easily imagine Dru abandoning anything and everything to ensure his own survival. Lycan law supposedly compelled everyone to die for the pack. Many would do so as well.
But Dru? Loyal, surely. Willing to dirty his hands, definitely. But give up his life? Never.
“You were born in the wrong skin, Lan.”
He watched Dru take a large bite of his dinner and chew thoughtfully. The fire crackled loudly beside them, snapping and popping as the silence dragged.
Dru swallowed, gold eyes shifting toward Lan. “Just an observation. Sometimes, Fate makes mistakes. Like putting you in the body of an undesirable. It’s just such a waste.”
The jab was coated in so much sugar that Lan almost wanted to believe that this was kindness. He knew better though. This was just more arrogance and pity.
“I’m fine with who I am.”
Dru cracked a small grin. “What? You’re starting to enjoy Nyx’s training? Guess brains are more powerful than I thought.”
I’m being baited. Lan shook his head. Engaging any further was stupid. He shouldn’t have even defended himself. There was no point. They were speaking about hypotheticals and abstract higher powers. None of it would lead anywhere.
At the end of the day, nothing could bridge the divide in their thought processes. Lan and Lycan society would never see eye to eye.
Halfway through year three, Lan was finally allowed to patrol in cities.
Cases of lycanthropy weren’t common in urban areas, but they did monitor other wolfpacks from time to time. Recently, it seemed smaller groups were forming under the cover of night. Some were desperate groupings of lone wolves. Others were packs fallen into disarray.
They didn’t make any moves, and no one really expected anything from Lan. He was just back up in case things went awry during patrol. These trips into the city weren’t common either. They worked on rotation and there were still only three members of the vanguard willing to babysit him.
Nyx was always the worst to work with. Although years of torturing Lan should’ve eventually grown boring, it was like a drug to this man. He just grew more delighted by the abuse. The right to do whatever he pleased.
On most days, Dru and Li were alright enough. They made small talk at times but otherwise focused on their work. Lan preferred them even if Dru was too perceptive for his own good.
At this point, he had been with Valentine’s vanguard for four years and they still couldn’t find it in themselves to trust him after the events in his first year. It was fair. Who really trusted someone that murdered their packmate?
Still, Lan had hoped it wouldn’t take this many years to gain some semblance of movement. He knew time flowed differently for different fiends, but he grew anxious as more years passed by.
How long did an invitation to the circus last?
Lan knew he had been foolish to walk away that night. He should’ve just let this kind stranger whisk him away into a fantasy. What would life have been like if he took the leap and joined up with Night Children? Could they be any worse than the wolves?
He had clung to every little morsel of information on Night Children in the last three years. Gossip, rumors, even slurs were fine. Anything that told him more about these creatures. Ever since learning about the Ringleader, the name seemed to show up more and more often.
Wolves whispered frequently about his terrifying abilities.
Kallum Kingsley was an insurmountable existence. His band of merry performers lived in London but traveled much of the year. He worked with fiends and Hunters alike—whatever suited his own agenda. They said he didn’t hurt Humans. At least, not usually. He even performed like a fool for them in the circus.
Delirium.
More than that, it seemed he was untouchable. Even with Valentine’s position, it was apparent that the Ringleader dwarfed him.
When Lan pieced that particular bit of information together, he had never felt more relieved. If he could just reach out and grasp that sliver of hope Delirium represented, then he could escape from Lycan society.
“Humans aren’t as perfect as you think they are.”
Lan blinked slowly, tilting his head to find Li watching him. They were perched atop a roof, surveying the busy streets below. From this vantage point, they could catch any peculiar scents or behaviors. Most nights, there was nothing though. Just the usual ghoul lurking after midnight and the wayward Night Child hungry for a meal.
Li leaned back from the edge, wind whipping up his fur lined coat and loose strands of hair. “I see how you look at them. Your eyes practically shine.”
“What does it matter?” Lan responded carefully.
“It doesn’t.” He shrugged, gaze lowering. “Knowing that you admire Humans so much could be good and bad. As part of the vanguard, we try to prevent Humans from being cursed with lycanthropy. On the other hand, you serve Val and the pack, so shouldn’t your loyalty be to us rather than this species you barely know?”
Lan rolled his eyes.
“Just stating facts,” Li muttered, sounding vaguely amused by Lan’s reaction. “Maybe if you learned to submit, it’d be easier to cherish the pack as well.”
It was nicer when they simply didn’t speak. This type of small talk was usually harmless but sometimes Li and Dru could touch on topics that triggered white-hot anger in Lan. They didn’t understand and admitted as much.
To them, Lan was the bizarre creature. Why couldn’t he just follow their laws? Asking him point blank why Lycan society rubbed him the wrong way was always a fruitless endeavor, yet they continued trying.
Li went on, “It’s already been—what? Five years? Four years? Aren’t you tired yet of making things difficult for Nyx?”
It shouldn’t have surprised Lan that this was the last straw. The off-handed remark wasn’t even supposed to be a jab. This was a wolf being a wolf.
But he’d had quite enough.
And so, on that chilly January night, he finally snapped off the shackles he had been meticulously wearing down for months, tore straight through Li’s throat while imagining it was Nyx, and leapt into the dark alleys of London.
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