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I arrived nearly naked, and bound in chains.

Not that this surprised me. I am a slave, after all, taken from my homeland by the Empire six years ago. I'd tried to escape that lecherous bastard I had to call my Master one too many times, and he got fed up with me. He said he'd make me sorry I crossed him. I'd thought nothing could be worse than him and his greasy, fat paws clawing at me every night, but this...

They'd sent me to the Coliseum.

I filed in with a passel of other enslaved people, all of us with iron collars around our necks and manacles around our paws and feet. Our undergarments were the only modesty afforded to us. The chains kept us bowed, but I stood as straight as possible. I refuse to show weakness to these tyrants.

"Listen up!" A giant hyena was shouting from atop a low stone platform. "You puny worms get to have the honor of serving one of us gladiators. Everything you have, you will get from them. If you eat, it will be because they feed you. If you fail to serve, it is their right to slay you. If they die, you will be executed as well. YOU ARE REPLACEABLE. THEY ARE NOT. Serve them well, and maybe they will buy out your slave price and set you free. Come when I call your name, and I will send you to the gladiator you will be serving." The hyena barked a name, and one of the slaves shuffled forward. "You'll be serving... Dexter. Ooh, he's gonna love kicking you around..." One by one, we were called, given our assignment, and led off by another slave to the chambers of the warrior we would be serving. They called me last.

"Amery!"

I strode to the platform as confidently as my chains would allow. The hyena looked me over. "Yer a funny-lookin' one... Caracal, right? From the deserts in the south?"

Knowing better than to speak, I nodded slowly instead. "Hmm... ya look familiar... Ya know, I fought in that war, aren't you..." My heart sped up.He can't know... nobody knows; stay calm... stay calm... "Nah, must've fought a hundred of you bastards. You lot all look the same to me now, I guess. Hmph... Let's see, you're serving... Lysander?!" A look of shock registered on the brawny hyena. I felt a pit forming in my stomach. He hadn't reacted that way about any of the others... "Guess they're finally makin' him get with the rest of us. Well, what are you standin' around for, trash?! MOVE!"

Jolted out of my internal monologue, I turned and quickly followed another slave. They were a tiny grey mouse, and they brought me through a winding, twisting corridor underneath the coliseum to a room at the very end of a narrow hallway. For some reason, they bowed to me. "This is Lysander's room. Remember, your station is tied to his, and your actions reflect on him. Do nothing that would cause your new master displeasure or worse, dishonor. You will have time to learn, but you will not be given that grace forever. Good luck." And with that, the mouse disappeared. I turned to the door. Swallowing hard, I knocked softly three times. "H-hello? Master Lysander, sir?"

A booming, deep bass voice rumbled through the door. "Come on in!"

I opened the door to find a richly appointed, if slightly dusty and grimy, room. Weapon racks stood along the back wall behind a locked grate. There was a small table with two chairs by the entrance, and a single large bed in the corner. In the corner by the door across from the table was a large pile of rags. Strange, I thought. Then, from behind a folding screen, stepped the most enormous wolf I'd ever seen.

He was easily over six feet tall, with white fur tapering to black on his forearms and calves down to his paws. A four-pointed black star crowned his forehead, giving him a mysterious air. And his eyes... By the gods, his eyes... They were the most piercing sky blue I'd ever seen, and they sparkled with good humor. When he spoke, he had a loud, almost shouting quality, which made me cringe. "So, yer the slave they made me take on. I told them I didn't need one..." He raised a paw and rubbed the back of his head. "Well, I'm Lysander. What's your name, little guy?"

I tried to stand as tall as I could, though my chains prevented me from reaching my complete, albeit much shorter, height. "My name is Amery. It is a pleasure to meet you, Master. I-"

Lysander's muzzle rankled like he'd smelled something foul. "Don't... don't call me Master. I hate that. Call me Lysander, or 'sir' if you gotta. But never, ever master. Understand?"

He was baring his teeth and growling at the end of that sentence. I gulped and nodded quickly. "I'm sorry, Mast- um, sir. Sorry, sir."

"Good, s'long as we're clear. Now get over here. I'll unlock your shackles. Stupid things, you can't even stand up straight..."

I looked at him warily. "How... how do you know I won't attack you?"

Lysander guffawed. "Please. If you could manage to hurt me, you'd be in the ring fighting alongside me, not serving me as a_slave._" He laughed again, and then a more severe look appeared. "Now get over here. Don't make me order you. C'mon, please?"

I blinked. Did he say... please? How long has it been since someone asked me, instead of commanding me? Slowly, I shuffled towards the massive wolf, chains rattling on the ground, until I stood before him. "Okay... I'm here. Now what?"

"Now, hold still. I need to open the locks." He undid the manacles around my wrists first, then my ankles. Finally, he went behind me to undo the collar on my neck. When he saw my back, I heard a sharp sucking of air between his teeth. "What the... all these scars... what the hell happened to you?!"

I shrugged. "I kept trying to escape. When I got caught, my master would whip me until I either passed out or begged enough for it to stop. I... I'm sorry about that, it's shameful, I know, I-"

Lysander grabbed me by my shoulders and whipped me around to face him. I shied away from him; his face was a terrifying picture of fury. He shouted, "DO NOT APOLOGIZE FOR THE MISDEEDS OF OTHERS!" He lowered his voice but was still enraged. His body was quaking, and he was letting out a low growl. "Nobody deserves to be treated that way... at least give them a sword and a fighting chance..." He turned me around again, gently this time, and undid the final lock, releasing me from my bonds. "Some of these are fresh still; I'll get some salve. Don't move."

I rubbed my wrists and neck, finally standing to my full height. In my homeland, I would have been taller than almost anyone, but here, it seemed that these enormous monsters dwarfed me. I wondered briefly whether there was something in the diet that caused them to grow so massive. However, Lysander returned after only a few minutes, carrying a large jar. He pulled up a chair and sat behind me.

"Kneel."

Something about his tone of voice made me shudder. It was a command, but... his voice was warm, and almost friendly. Caring, too. I knelt on the ground before him, back facing the massive wolf. I heard the lid to a jar pop open, cork against clay. Then, I shivered as a cold, thick gel was spread across my back. Inhaling sharply between my teeth, I complained. "Aah, it stings..."

Lysander never stopped. "That just means it's doin' its job, pipsqueak. This shit gets infected, I can't pay for a doctor. I'm glad I have plenty of this stuff. It'll help keep it clean and heal faster. Besides, I'm almost done." He was right; he'd finished rubbing down my back and put the cork back in the jar. He got up, put the chair away, and returned the salve to its storage area. Then he turned to me, where I still sat, kneeling. "Boy, what are you doing? Get up."

Shaking, I stood. "Y-you told me to kneel. You never permitted me to get back up... I'm sorry, sir, I didn't know what you wanted me to do..."

Lysander sighed. "Gods. I haven't the time or patience to be doin' all yer thinking for ya. Listen, just... relax, wouldja? I'm not going to hurt you. I promise that." His face was sincere, a small smile on his muzzle. He put his paws on my shoulders. "I want you to think for yourself. You wanna be useful to me, that's how you can do it. I ain't gonna manage everything you do. And I promise if you do something wrong or that I don't like, I'll talk to you instead of getting mad. Okay?"

I gulped against a lump in my throat. Was it fear I felt? Or something new...? "I... I'm sorry, sir. It's been a long time since I've been allowed that much freedom, and honestly, it's hard to trust that you want me to think and act of my own accord. It... feels like a trap."

He ruffled my hair. "C'mon... just relax. You're a war slave, right? From the south?"

"Yes, from Kajmitun..."

"So you didn't even do anything wrong. I fought that bloody war; we might've been the winning side, but I can't say it was the _right_side... And it's not like you're a criminal. What did you do for the army?"

"I was a medic..." I responded hesitantly, unsure why he was asking.

"Great! I get beat up all the time. You'll be useful to me, then. See? Now I hafta keep you happy, because I'll be trusting you with my care when I'm injured."

I blinked rapidly. "You'd... trust me with something like that?"

"Yeah! Doctors are expensive, slaves are free. But I believe people do their best work when they're free from the threat of physical harm. I won't hurt those who can't fight back." Lysander beamed at me, and for some reason, I felt weak at the knees. For the first time in years, I felt... _relief._Sweet, delicious relief, a cooling balm more soothing than anything I'd ever felt.

I fell to my knees again and took one of his paws between my own. Bringing it to my forehead, I rested on it and spoke. "I... believe you. I _want_to believe you. And so, I am going to trust you. I have no agency, nowhere to go, and no life besides this. I swear, sir, that I will serve to the utmost of my abilities and show you that you can count on your loyal servant to do everything you require. Just tell me what you need, and I will see it done."

Lysander pulled his paw back and, placing it under my chin, raised my head. "You... I didn't need help before, you know. You really needn't do much. I-"

Emboldened by his words, I sought to test them by cutting him off. "I must, though. They made me work for you for a reason. If I don't do anything, I will be seen as neglecting my duties. And I do not know how they decide on punishments, but... I do not wish to be punished, in any case. Please, for the good of us both, let me help you, you... stubborn dog!" My paws flew to my mouth, and I gasped. I insulted him... oh gods, it just slipped out, I... I'm doomed...

Lysander sat with his jaw open for a moment, and then... a slow smile crept across his face. He barked out a laugh, slapping his knee with merriment. "Hah! Kitty has claws, after all! Good! Use them more often; I need someone who can keep up with me and not take my bullshit..." The wolf wiped a tear away from his eye. "Tell you what, then. Why don't you clean the room? I'm not too fond of cleaning, and it's dirty in here. I'll show you where the laundry is another day, so for now, sweep and swab the floor. Supplies are in a closet outside the main door in the hallway."

Finally, something to do! I smiled broadly and went to collect the supplies. Broom, mop, and bucket in hand, I went back in to start cleaning. The floor was primarily dusty, except for some sticky spots around the table from old dinners. Perhaps he's a messy eater...? The bed area had some sticky stains around it as well.... Does he eat in bed? How peculiar. It took the better half of an hour to scrub everything down, but once I was done, the air in the room was crisper and clearer, and the floors weren't sticky anymore. They practically shined under my ministrations. Lysander had been reading a book while I cleaned, and when I announced I was done, he closed it and looked around.

"Well, I'll be damned... you did a great job! Here, take this:" He handed me a copper tablet with three notches on it. "This is a meal chit. Go to the kitchens and tell them you need a meal for yourself and Lysander. They'll get you some food for us. Bring it back here, and we'll eat together."

My face flushed red. "Ah... this is very generous, sir, to feed me on my first day with you, but... I am afraid I don't know where the kitchen is..." I hung my head in shame. "I'm so sorry, they didn't show me anything but your room..."

Lysander huffed, blowing a blast of hot air out of his nose. "Of course, they didn't do anything useful... Am I supposed to show you everything?! ...Yeah, probably I am." He finished morosely. "Well, there's nothing for it. Come with me." He exited the room into the narrow, twisting hallway. "Here, grab my paw."

"What?!"

"You could get separated. It's awful busy the closer you get to the kitchens. I don't want to have to find a shrimp like you if you get lost. Now c'mon!" He snagged my paw and tugged me along behind him down the hall.

I tried to focus on where we were going, trying to learn the layout, but all I could focus on was his paw. Warm... rough from fighting, but gentle and tender. His fur is soft, too... Gods, but he could almost be attractive, if he weren't the enemy.... I shook my head as if to fling off these intrusive thoughts. I refused to have a crush on my captor! Even if he was shirtless, muscular, and clearly a talented fighter... Ugh. He's an enemy until proven otherwise. He can't be fully trusted, no matter how... kind, and caring... I let out a long sigh. Finally, we reached a bustling central room, radiating with heat and blasting food smells from every direction. My mouth watered immediately, and my stomach let out a loud growl.

Lysander laughed. "Hah, bet you haven't eaten since this morning, huh?"

My ears burned. "I... haven't eaten for three days..."

"WHAT?!" The wolf shouted so loudly that everyone within earshot turned to look and stare. Embarrassed, he put a paw to the back of his head and lowered his voice. "Sorry, but what do you mean, it's been three days?! How are you even standing?"

I shrugged. "I... I've had worse. My old master once made me go a week without eating when I-" flashbacks to his fat, greasy paws clawing at my clothes, touching me, feeling parts of me I never would have let him touch... My heart started to pound, beating so hard I could swear anyone nearby could hear it. My vision blurred, and I breathed fast and shallow, panting for air. I fell to my knees, gasping and shivering. My chest felt tight, and it hurt, and...

I was scooped up in two tremendous white and black arms and carried to a dark corner of the kitchens. A deep, rumbly bass spoke soothingly in my ear. "Breathe, Amery. Close your eyes, and take a deep breath in... good, hold it... now, slowly let it out. That's it, you're doing great. Breathe in... hold it..." Lysander walked me through breathing exercises, and slowly, they got my panic under control. I was still shivering, but the worst of it was over. He still held me to him, and I realized he'd pressed my head into his chest. I could smell him... Musky, slightly sweaty... orange and clove, and something... floral? Bergamot? I focused on the strong scent of him, breathing it in, letting it fill my nose and my mind until there was nothing else. I just needed to clear my mind of the bad thoughts.

That was a lie.

His scent was intoxicating, like nothing I'd ever smelled before. It was manly and sweet, and slightly acrid and sharp. And it was unmistakably his. It comforted me as much as it distracted me, and I couldn't tell why I wanted to be here, with him, with this warrior, but as he held me in his arms, for the first time since the war ended and I became a slave, I felt... safe.

Lysander must have noticed my breathing change because he set me down. "I'm sorry... Your old master is a piece of shit. I can't believe that... and I don't know what he did that caused you to break down like that, but we're going to talk it out later, in private. Maybe not today, but trust me, the only way to get past something like that is to get it out there. Believe me, I know..." The wolf's eyes took on a distant look. He shook his head gently. "Come on, let's get some food."

He took me to a stall where they had noodles in broth with sliced meat on top. He presented them with another token, this one silver, and they nodded, giving him two covered bowls. I held my hands out to take them from him.

"No, I'll carry them, it's fine."

Lowering my voice, I hissed, "I'm your slave, remember? Let me carry those, please. We're out in public, people will see..."

Lysander sighed. "No, you're right. Here. Careful, those are pretty heavy-"

I expertly balanced one bowl in each paw, bending my arms at the elbow to bring my paws to my shoulders and resting one on each. "It's no problem. Lead on, sir."

The wolf blinked in surprise. "Well, I'll be. You're just full of surprises, aint'tcha?" He led me through the corridors again, back to his room. Holding the door for me, he let me enter first. I approached the table and set a bowl down on either end. We sat together, and he chatted with me for a few minutes. Then, he took the cover off his soup. A rich smell filled the air, scented with spices and herbs, and the smell of roast meat. He began to bolt his dinner so fast I thought he might choke. Then he glanced at me. "Hey... aintcha gonna eat? That'll go cold soon."

"Ah... Sorry, sir. I, um, I'm not supposed to eat until you're done, but if you insist..." I pulled the top off my soup as well. The smell wafting up from it was intense and made me instantly salivate. This dish was served with a pair of chopsticks, and fortunately, I knew them well from my time at the palace back... home.

My eyes got misty, and I looked down. How long had I been gone? Even before being captured, I was sent to the front for the war effort. I could barely remember my family's faces... all save my younger sister, whose portrait I kept in a locket hidden on my person. Slaves weren't allowed to own property, but I managed to sneak this onto my person when I was taken and have kept it secret and safe ever since. I sniffed, and a tear fell from my eye and plinked onto the table.

Lysander took notice and reached across the table to pat my shoulder. "Hey, hey now... it's okay. What's wrong, kitty cat?"

Face flushing, I scrubbed the back of my paw across my eyes. "Nothing, just... homesick. Sorry, sir, I know it's silly, I shouldn't be so emotional, I know I can't go back..."

The wolf squeezed my shoulder, then lifted my head with his fingers under my chin and rubbed his thumb through the tracks of my tears on my cheek. "No, no, don't be sorry. I miss my homeland too, sometimes. I'd love to go back, too. But I'm a, well, political prisoner, you could say. I'm free to leave, technically, but if I don't play the great and mighty gladiator, I have family who would be captured and pressed into slavery, and so... I fight. I fight for them. So eat, and live for your family, your friends, who would want you to go on."

With a sniffle, I smiled thinly. "Thank you... That means more than you know." I took some noodles with a slice of meat and some thinly sliced vegetables, and slurped them down. "Oh... this is amazing! I haven't eaten this in... in..." I nearly started to cry again. "Oh, thank you, sir. You've been so incredibly... kind. Uncharacteristically so, frankly. I've never known a master who treated me so well..."

"Ah, well, don't get used to this every day... I usually eat more frugally. But after your little panic attack, I wanted to do something, well, special, for you. Seemed like you need it. Tomorrow, we'll use copper chits instead. They don't get as good quality, but they fill you up."

I almost choked on a mouthful of hot noodles. Swallowing quickly, I coughed a bit. "Ack...! Y-you mean... I'll get to eat tomorrow, too?"

"Wha... Yes! You'll eat tomorrow, the next day, and every day after that! Why would you think I wouldn't feed you? That's..." Lysander paused to pinch the bridge of his snout between his eyes. "Oh, for fucks sake... let me guess, your old master, huh?" I said nothing, merely nodding sheepishly. "What a prick... I see I've got a lot of work to do to gain your trust. But I promise you, I will feed you when you are hungry, and from your looks, I need to get you some clothes... I don't have any matches tomorrow; we'll go shopping then. I can't afford a lot right now, but ah'll getcha a couple o' shirts and pants, and some under-wraps... Some shoes, too, or boots if I can find some for ya. And don't get all weepy about it!" Ah. He'd seen me start to tear up again. Lysander reached out and ruffled my hair. "This is my responsibility. I didn't want a slave, but I have you now, and how I treat you is a reflection on me and my honor. It's the least I can do."

Slowly, I nodded. I looked down and realized I'd finished the meal without noticing it. "T-thank you, sir... I truly am in your debt. It's strange, I... I'd always hated being a slave, but with you... somehow, it doesn't seem so terrible."

He shook his head. "No, it's terrible, all right. There're all kinds of things the Coliseum can do to you that I wouldn't be able to stop. I can treat you with dignity, respect, and care, but if they decide to reassign you, there's nothing I can do to stop them. And the other warriors here... well, few share my sentiments. So, with that said..." Lysander clapped his paws together and stood up, walking over to the weapon rack and unlocking it. "Come pick a weapon, little Amery. We're going to do some training. You're going to learn to fight. You need to be able to defend yourself, and I'm the best gladiator here. You won't get a better teacher."

My head reeled. He doesn't know who I am... he doesn't know that I can already fight... I'll play along, pretend I don't know anything. I walked over to the rack and looked over the weapons. Most of them were far too big for me, but... there was a pair of long, wavy-bladed daggers, definitely made in my homeland. _Where did he get these? He must have fought in the war, too... still, these are perfect for me._Slowly, I reached down and picked them up. Holding them loosely, I backed away and waited for further instructions.

Lysander picked up a two-handed battle-axe. Giving it a brief spin, he planted the butt of the weapon on the ground. "Those daggers... interestin' choice, kitty cat. Very few of your people were trained to use two at once..."

I flinched. "Ah... w-well, there were two of them there; I t-thought they were supposed to be used together."

"No, no, yer right. I was just surprised you figured that out. Okay, let's see what you know. Get ready, pipsqueak!" Lysander's face suddenly shifted. His face darkened, a snarl curving wickedly across his muzzle. He dipped down low and dashed forward, swinging the axe right towards my side!

I'm ashamed to say I panicked. Years of drills in the palace courtyards, endless military parades, countless assassination attempts... Instinct kicked in. Before I could even remember I was supposed to be playing dumb, I spun the daggers in my hands, tightening my grip on them; the left one held backward along my forearm and the right held straight out. I bent my knees and crouched down, bending my torso backward, and the wolf's strike flew right over me. Springing back up, I flew at his throat, and in a blink, the tip of my dagger rested at his neck. Breathing hard, fear controlling my body, I began to shake, and then I dropped the weapons. I prostrated myself on the ground before Lysander. "I-I-I... I'm so sorry! I don't know what came over me; I threatened you, gods, I can't believe I did that, I... I'll accept any punishment, anything, I'm sorry I-"

"Shut up."

I choked on my words. There was no emotion in his voice, just a flat monotone. I stayed on the ground, laying before him, breathing in fast, shallow gasps. What will he do to me...? What have I done...? "Sir... Master, please..."

"Get up. Look at me."

I couldn't move. I tried, but I was shaking so hard I couldn't make myself budge an inch. "I... I can't, I..."

"I SAID GET UP!" Lysander finally bellowed.

That was the shock I needed. I scrambled to my feet, standing before him again. I still couldn't bear to look at him, so he roughly grabbed my chin and forced me to look him in the eyes. My own eyes got hot and misty, and I began to cry. "P-p-please don't kill me, I'm so sorry, I-"

"Shut up." His voice was deadly calm now. He stared at me, turning my head to and fro, up and down, inspecting me. "Where... where did you learn that move?"

I gulped. LIE TO HIM. "I... I must have picked it up in the army; I don't know who taught it to me, I-!"

His grip on my chin tightened, causing me pain. My words choked off. "Don't lie to me. That was the royal Kaj Viper style. Only Kajmitun royalty are taught that, it was a closely guarded secret, even amongst the nobility. And you don't just know it. You're good. Incredibly good. So I'll ask you once, ONLY ONCE, and if you lie to me again, I'll put you down right here. Who the hell are you?"

Tears started to stream down my face. My deepest secret, the one I had hidden for six long years... I can't lie... but if I tell him, he might well kill me anyway... He'll kill me for sure if I don't tell the truth, though... there's no avoiding it. I have to tell him. "I-I... I'll tell you, just... please let me go. You're hurting me, and I'm... I'm terrified right now."

Lysander released his grip on my chin like he was holding a hot coal. "Ah, fuck... sorry. You just... Please. I need_to know who you are. I swear on my life; as long as you tell the truth, you have nothing to fear from me. Please, tell me... _please... please let me be right..." The last of his plea came out as a hoarse whisper. Are his paws... shaking? Why is he nervous...? I can't be a threat to him...

Time to face the music. I cleared my throat, and rubbed the tears from my eyes. Drawing myself to my full height, back straight, chest forward, I bowed deeply. "M-my name is... Amery Kajmit, Crown Prince of Kajmitun, direct descendent of the founding line. And, to my knowledge... the last of my line." I stayed down, head bowed, for a minute, then stood back up. Pulling one arm close to myself, I suddenly felt so... vulnerable. I was the biggest target of the Empire, the only thing that could threaten their hold on the south, uniting the Southern kingdoms under a single banner and rallying an army that could rival any the Empire could boast. And here I was, a slave, in a coliseum, serving a soldier of the Empire's war. My life would end any moment now... All I had to do was wait...

My body stiffened as Lysander rushed towards me and...

Hugged me?

He squeezed me tight, lifting me off the ground and spinning me in circles. "Thank fuck! Oh, thank the _gods,_one of you survived!"

"Wha... Bu... Lysand- sir, sorry, please explain yourself. I am still terrified, but now I am also quite confused."

The wolf set me down, tail wagging like an excited puppy. The unrestrained joy on his face was infectious, and despite my terror, I gave a small half-smile. "Oh, you're clever, aren't you? Smart kitty cat... Nobody's recognized you all this time; hell, I wouldn't have recognized you if you hadn't sparred with me. Incredible work, by the way, we've gotta do that again... How did I not see it? I had portraits of all of you, they made me memorize them, I-!" He suddenly lost his voice, and his face darkened. He looked down at me, and then...

He dropped to his knees and prostrated himself before me.

Flabbergasted, I stammered, "S-sir, why are you... W-what are you doing?"

"I beg your forgiveness."

"F-for what? The war? You didn't start it, I don't blame you, so if that's all-"

"No..." Lysander stood up, and tears were running down his cheeks. "No, I... I killed..." He sniffled and looked away briefly. Then, he took a deep breath, appearing to steel himself, and looked me in the eyes once more.

"I'm the one who killed your family."

My ears started ringing. He was still speaking, but I couldn't hear him anymore. My vision swam like heat rising from the desert sands. I began to tremble, then shake, then I was practically vibrating with rage.

But...

I took a deep breath and let it out. My hearing faded back in, and I heard him finish his sentence. "...but I never found you, and I always, always prayed you had escaped. I couldn't save your family, I'm so sorry... But now, maybe I can save you."

I wasn't willing to let go of my hatred yet. "Why would you want to help me? Wouldn't it be easier to finish the job here and now? I'm at your mercy; you're even still holding the axe. A beheading would be quite appropriate..."

Lysander paled and looked at the axe in his hand. Tossing it aside, he wrapped his paws around my shoulders. "No! No, don't you see? I hated what they made me do! Men, women, and children... all under the cover of night. No honor, no fair fights, just... murder. And I did it because they had my family too... I told myself it was me or them, and I can't say I made the right decision... But we can fight back now! If we get you to Kajmitun, you can reclaim the throne and take down the Empire! Or, at least have a fighting chance... I'll help you. Please, let me help you. I need to atone for what I've done to your family... I'll keep you safe. I'll fight for you. I'll do anything... I'll... I'll be your slave..."

I blinked. "Fine... honestly, fine. But I... don't need a slave. Besides, I am still your slave. For the love of everything holy, treat me like a slave. If you give me special treatment, people will notice something's up. You don't have to abuse me like my last master, but... at least in public, be a little rough with me. Yell at me, shove me around a little. People expect that, and we need to keep up appearances."

Lysander's nose rankled again. "I... I don't like that. But you're right. Just know that I don't mean it. And I'll try not to take it too far." The colossal wolf yawned. "Ah... it's late. Come, we should sleep. We need to get to the markets early tomorrow."

I suddenly realized how exhausted I was. Stretching and yawning, I started to walk towards the pile of rags in the corner.

"Where... are you going?"

I turned around, where Lysander had already stripped to his under-wrap. Gods! The muscles on that man! I blushed and tried not to stare. "U-um... This would be where a slave sleeps, unless you have a separate bedroom somewhere..." I pointed at the pile of dirty rags on the floor. "It's not bad, it's more than my last master-"

"DAMN your last master!" Lysander shouted in exasperation. "You're not sleeping on old, dirty rags! Come here; this bed is large enough for both of us."

*Gulp!* "Are you certain, sir? It's highly unusual..."

"Not 'round here, it ain't. That much I know; having a slave warm your bed is pretty common. It gets real cold down here, 'specially this time of year."

Cautiously, I crept towards the bed. It looked soft, warm, and inviting. "Just... we're just going to sleep... right? Nothing... else?"

"What else would there be?" The wolf chuckled. "Come on, get in. I wanna go to bed."

I clambered into the bed, pulling the heavy blanket over myself. I hadn't realized it, but Lysander was right; it was pretty cold here. Even under the blanket, I was shivering. The wolf climbed into bed next to me, and must have felt me trembling. "You okay, kitty cat?"

"Ah... a bit cold, is all. I'll manage. Please, don't worry about me, you can go to sleep..."

He shuffled around in the bed, and then, I felt his large, muscular arm wrap around me and pull me to his muscular chest. Chuckling again, he said, "Thought you were supposed to be warming my bed... this better, kitty?"

Lysander radiated heat like a sun-drenched stone in the evening. So warm... "U-uh, yes. Yes, much better. Thank you."

He held me all through the night, never letting me go. Any time I shifted away, his arm would pull me close again and hold me tight. It was an odd feeling, knowing that this giant, terrible warrior was so tender and gentle with me. And this is surprisingly... intimate. But, surely he's just trying to atone for his actions. No, it's nothing more than that, I'm sure of it...

...

..

.

But if it was, would I actually want... more?