1. Chapter One: Theo

Chapter One – Theo

" S he must be deeper in the camp. We'll need to go farther. Prepare the torch," Theo hisses to the Siacchian who was once his prisoner of war, and then his comrade in betrayal – and is now simply his… ally. (But also his mate, though Theo has yet to explain that part.)

The Siacchian, whose name is apparently Luka Lockehart, raises silver eyes, his auburn fur twitching around his shoulders. Still trapped in his beast shape after the transformation that saved their lives from the hands of Theo's second and Luka's mother, he's even less keen on taking orders than he was in human form. Even with his inability to communicate in words, his lowered ears and raised haunches convey his feelings plenty clearly: he thinks this is a terrible idea. Still, he lowers the lit torch grasped precariously between his teeth and lights the collection of dry grasses and twigs.

Theo sneaks into the dawn-dark Kiteran war camp that had once been his, ignoring Luka's whine of protest. It is hard enough for him to accept his defeat – he will simply go mad entirely if he is forced to leave behind his one prized possession, the one being in the world that he can trust: Geriin.

There!

He spots the horse on the far side of the camp. Unfortunately but not unsurprisingly, she is guarded. There are two Kiterans standing at her side, though they both looked flushed with drink. Luka will be no help here. Theo will have to handle them.

A shout rises as the last watch of the night spots the fire. Luka has hidden himself – good. Whispers to the Wolf-Mother fly from Theo's lips as he adjusts his stolen cloak and pulls the hood tighter around his face. He has never been so grateful that he kept his love of Geriin to himself – otherwise the traitor Octavian would have likely put a whole army in his path. Well, he kept the secret from all but one person. He glances past the flames to where Luka waits for him at the edge of camp. He can just barely make out the gleam of the Siacchian's eyes in the moonlight.

A strange… warmth... fills his chest. Theo crushes it as quickly as possible.

He has already learned time and time again – first with his parents, and now with Octavian – that such attachments lead to nothing but pain. And betrayal.

I would be better off without him.

But Theo's heart almost breaks at the thought. So instead he shakes himself – he doesn't have time to focus on this. First, rescue Geriin. Then – deal with this man-turned-beast who is apparently his mate.

The shouting grows louder. The guards have extinguished the fire, and now they search for the source. Theo scowls – they're working far too efficiently for all their blatant, staggering drunkenness. Theo will need to work quickly. He certainly can't count on Luka for help. Theo's disguise, though poor, should be enough to keep him concealed as he sneaks closer to Geriin…

"There! I've spotted him!"

Theo freezes first, shocked, and there, yes, is one of his soldiers, her hand raised in accusation. Theo only has a moment to meet her gaze. She looks as alarmed as he feels.

"Fuck," Theo hisses. He throws his disguise to the wind. He is not far from Geriin – he only needs to reach her, and then he will be away –

A snarl rises behind him as he breaks into a run. Theo doesn't dare look back, but he knows the noise. Knows the hot breath on the back of his neck is not human, but hopiar.

Four paws slam into his back. Theo goes down with a grunt.

He tries to turn, reaching for a rock or the knife at his belt – anything – but he is pinned, and the hopiar is snarling, all teeth. She doesn't want to hurt him, that much is clear, since Theo is only winded. Theo reaches for his beast, but he is tired, so tired. He attempts another punch, hand far too human, and the hopiar doesn't even blink. Only yesterday, this soldier was his own to command, and now, she has turned against him, just like everyone else –

The hopiar doesn't even flinch under Theo's punch. Her eyes gleam. She places her fangs just over Theo's arm, and the threat is clear. Despair wells, but only for an instant.

I will have plenty of chances to escape once captured. Octavian is good, but he won't be able to monitor my return to Kitera and the capture of Cesscounthe simultaneously.

Theo grinds his teeth, forcing himself to relax. The hopiar 's eyes gleam with satisfaction at seeing his surrender –

At least Luka will have escaped, whispers some pitifully tiny voice in the back of his mind.

There is a sudden clatter of hooves. A pained shout.

"Who is that?" one voice cries.

And then another: " What is that?"

The hopiar pinning Theo lifts her head just in time for a pair of hooves to meet her jaw. It snarls and staggers, leaving Theo just enough space to wriggle away. Geriin must have freed herself somehow, the clever creature –

A blur of red launches itself through the evening and collides with the Kiteran hopiar , so much smaller than the solider. Theo's heart constricts.

Luka.

Of course the man would not have escaped. Of course he would come back for Theo.

The absolute fool.

Luka is so incredibly small in his beast form in comparison to the hopiar. He has the advantage of surprise, but that lasts for only an instant. The hopiar tosses Luka aside, and he collides with a tent that collapses beneath his weight. He yelps.

Theo has never felt such raw, all-consuming terror.

"Geriin!" he shouts, and the horse – her reins sawn into pieces by clever hopiar teeth; Luka must have chewed her free – is at his side in an instant. He swings onto her back, grateful she was left saddled, and forces her into a charge as the hopiar turns on a fallen Luka.

"You will not harm him!" Theo shouts. His boot collides solidly with the hopiar 's skull. The impact resonates. The hopiar staggers – and then falls, unconscious.

Theo turns his horse. The camp is a flurry of activity. The attention is split between his none-too-quiet attempts at a rescue, and the fire Luka set. His eyes go to the tent collapsed onto Luka.

"Come on. Come on," he whispers.

"There!" a soldier shouts, having spotted a mounted Theo.

He should leave. He should run.

Something stirs in the tent. Luka emerges, tail tucked between his legs. His silver eyes meet Theo's.

Theo almost collapses with relief.

"I hope you're ready to run," Theo says.

Luka's legs visibly shake, but he does not waver as he holds Theo's gaze.

Theo turns Geriin. "Good to see you girl," he whispers in her ear, before driving her into a pounding gallop.

It is almost too easy for them to shake their Kiteran pursuers. Most appear drunk – a common custom after a hard-fought victory. Some topple from their horses at too-sharp turns. Others hardly manage the transformation to their beast form.

Their escape won, and miles of distance put between them and their pursuers, Theo spares one last look back at his camp – at the walls of Cesscounthe, where he suffered his second defeat.

At this distance, the towering gates, the carved image of a snarling beast pinned beneath a hand wielding a stick, are made small. Beyond those walls, Theo imagines Octavian settling in with the Council members he had bargained with to betray Theo. He imagines the Scholar smiling as Octavian shakes hands with those who think hopiar are mindless beasts.

Their shaky peace won't last long – Theo is sure of it.

Geriin extends her stride. Luka keeps pace.

And when it begins to crumble, when Theo regains his footing and his people, he will take it all back –

At his side, Luka yips, and Theo jerks with alarm, searching for an enemy – or worse, an injury.

But no, Luka isn't afraid. His mouth gapes in a wide, tooth-baring smile, his tongue lolling as his tail flaps in the breeze. He easily matches Geriin's gallop, the muscles in his back pumping smoothly. Joy glows in his face, and despite himself, Theo's heart softens.

Theo finds his mouth saying, "That was foolish, coming back for me. What did you think you were going to do? You don't even know how to fight, Siacchian."

Luka's joy melts. Theo looks into the dark night, and ignores the curdling in his own stomach that feels too much like guilt.

He's a tool , Theo reminds himself. The wolf in me might recognize him as my mate, but in the end, he is simply a pawn for me to return to power – for me to recapture Cesscounthe.

Just a tool, Theo thinks, unable to fight the smile from his face as Luka enjoys the freedom of running, in spite of all that just took place. Just a tool.

It is easy enough for him to ignore the small voice in the back of his mind asking, A tool for what purpose?

Theo pushes an exhausted Luka another few hours until the skies start to darken. It will be a long ride to the southern kingdom of Balivartia, and the sooner they arrive, the safer they will be. The long sloping plains of Siacchi provide little cover, and though he has yet to see any pursuers on the horizon, he still scans the waving grasses constantly.

He isn't sure why he feels disappointed when he sees no one is following him – and he's far too focused on leaning low on Geriin's sweat-streaked back, on the pounding of her hooves through the fields and the puffs of warm air escaping her muzzle, to contemplate it.

Though Luka doesn't complain, his strides shorten and his panting increases, sides heaving. He has never been in the best condition, and imprisonment had only served to cut what little muscle and fat he had from his body.

"A little farther," Theo orders, and Luka glares up at him, stubbornly jerking to a stop.

"Childes!" Theo cries, unthinkingly, before snapping his mouth shut. He avoids Luka's eyes as he glares at the oncoming sunset, again ignoring the twist of feelings in his gut – this time, even as he shoves it away, he recognizes the sour burn of guilt.

I have nothing to be guilty for – he is the one who lied to me .

For their entire relationship, Luka led Theo to believe that he was Evland Childes, and all of their moments together – the intimate flashes of early mornings, curled like pups in the same bedroll, the Ravage matches where Theo spread his legs a bit too far and Luka caught his eye, a heated gleam rolling across his face, the kiss – those were moments Theo spent with Evland Childes. Not Luka Lockehart.

My mate is a mystery. Another thought to lock away.

Luka stubbornly sits in the dirt, sides heaving, and Theo sighs, pulling Geriin to a walk.

"Fine," Theo says. "We can settle over there." He nods to the lone tree on the slope of the hill, a towering cedar elm. Even from where they stand, Theo can smell its heavy scent. Hopefully, when Octavian does send people after them, they can use the tree to disguise the direction they will head after this.

Luka lifts his chin, unmoving.

"We need shelter for the night," Theo growls, angry at Luka's disobedience.

Luka closes his eyes and presses his ears flat to his skull.

"Fine!" Theo throws his hands in the air. "Don't listen to me! Sleep out here and die from exposure."

Geriin wearily clops into a trot as Theo nudges her toward the tree. Maybe they have been riding for too long.

As the sun sets, Theo gathers the meager amount of dry branches he can find beneath the cover of the tree, resisting the urge to shiver as the early winter cold settles in. His numb fingers fumble with the flint he always keeps in his saddlebags. Winter in the West is nothing compared to the North, but the weariness of the day bears on Theo, making the growing chill difficult to bear.

He takes little sips from his wineskin as he watches Luka slink toward him, each step a drag of his foot. What he first thought was disobedience, Theo now realizes is mere exhaustion.

Luka tumbles into a heap of red fur before the tiny fire – they have put enough distance between themselves and Cesscounthe, they shouldn't be spotted, but Theo still doesn't want to risk anything larger. Luka's lips curl as his stomach audibly growls.

Theo produces what little supplies he has – dried sheep meat and some old nuts and berries. The standard rations every soldier carries. It would be enough to last him a few days – if he were alone.

Maybe I should have let him go with Xyla Mobiele. No – the thought is immediately squashed by a powerful wash of emotions and his wolf's stubborn reply of: he is mine. Mine to take care of.

Mine to lose.

Mine to be betrayed by.

Luka hesitates as he looks at the meat, unable to contain the drool dripping from his chin. Theo scoffs and pushes it closer. "You're exhausted," he says. "We'll need to do this again tomorrow. Eat. It's a long journey south."

Luka downs the meat in a few chews. Despite being so small, his appetite matches a standard hopiar 's .

"So – a fox," Theo says when Luka is finished. Another thing you hid from me. "I didn't realize there were any like you left in the world. I thought it was all just wolf folk."

Luka attempts what Theo thinks is a shrug – his front shoulders rising and falling. Theo looks away, frowning.

"You're much the same as us though, aren't you?" Theo asks. Perhaps this was why he hadn't smelled Luka as a hopiar after their numerous interactions – he didn't look for the scent Luka gives off now, something a little lighter, a little muskier than a hopiar 's scent. "Just smaller."

Luka doesn't reply. Instead he curls in on himself, turning into a furry red ball.

Theo grits his teeth and throws his head back to gaze up at the stars glowing through the branches of the cedar. The moon gleams, full as a coin. Another question rises on Theo's lips, one he's sure he can get Luka to answer.

"But you still howl, don't you?"

Luka's ears twitch, and his eyes slide to Theo.

Theo gestures up. Luka's gaze follows his hand.

"It's most freeing in wolf form. We use it to communicate, but it's also a way… a way of celebrating our Wolf Mother." When Luka's eyes narrow, Theo says, "It's not just for religious purposes, it really is freeing."

He gestures again, open-handed, trying to encourage. They are far enough from civilization – and there have to be wild foxes in Cesscounthe. It would be a natural enough noise not to draw attention.

And to his delight, Luka actually sits up, tilting his head back. He gazes up at the full moon and winking stars, parting his muzzle and gathering himself –

What bursts free from his snout is the most terrifying shriek Theo has ever heard.

The noise cuts through the night, reminiscent of a dying rabbit mixed with an evil cackle. Luka's muzzle immediately snaps shut, and he looks ashamed. Theo topples over, only narrowly recovering his balance – though not his dignity.

"What was that?" Theo says. Despite himself, the sight of Luka now crouched, ears pressed so close to his russet skull, the very picture of an ashamed pup, brings a chuckle creeping to his lips. The giggles escalate to full blown laughter, until he is wiping tears from the corners of his eyes.

For that brief instant, though everything is not fine, Theo knows they will work things out. No matter what happens, so long as he and this strange, strange man remain together, he is sure they will be alright –

No.

The thought keeps trying to take root in Theo's brain like a weed. He rips it out by the roots, his laughter dying.

He may be my mate, but I will not let him be my weakness.

"I didn't realize foxes couldn't howl," Theo says after he has settled, trying to hide the way his joy has changed to frustration.

Luka's ears, if possible, press even flatter against his skull. He offers no explanation.

The fire crackles and Theo takes another long drink from his wineskin. Another heavier question weighs on his lips. Finally, he says, "So, first your name and now howling – what else have you been hiding from me, Luka?"

Luka's nose twitches and he looks away. Theo's frustration amounts to a sudden anger, crackling like the fire before him.

"Mother's curses – you realize this will be much easier if you just change back – don't you! Why won't you answer me, Luka!" Theo storms to his feet. He laughs again, this time bitterly. "Is it Ravage? Is it because we're not playing that ridiculous game? You refuse to provide me answers unless I've beaten you at something?"

Luka looks like he wants nothing more than to slink away. His skin twitches and he stares at Theo with mournful brown eyes.

It is then that Theo realizes. All those moments throughout the day in which he offered to switch places with Luka and the other man steadfastly ignored him – that hadn't been Luka snubbing him.

"You're stuck?"

Luka's head jerks up, eyes mournful – no, desperate.

Theo's heart twists. It wasn't just because Luka was a fox that he hadn't been able to scent the man – it was because he had never changed before.

He changed to save me.

To save us, Theo corrects, thinking of Xyla's hurt expression when Luka had decided to stay with Theo instead. And for that, Theo had almost gotten himself captured – and when Luka saved him, Theo lectured him for it.

No, Theo corrects himself. I would have escaped either way. Luka was only recklessly endangering himself.

"The first change is always the hardest," Theo says, trying to make his voice light. He swallows down his remaining anger. Most hopiar Kiterans have already experienced their beast form by the time they've turned three or four. Theo's case had been an exception – he was born a beast, which had led to the unusual circumstances of his childhood.

"But it's also instinctual. Just the same as you allowed your wolf – er, beast – to consume you, you must allow your human side to consume it. Think of the things you love and long for in your human flesh. Allow them to overcome you."

Luka closes his eyes, and Theo waits.

When nothing happens, Theo scrabbles through memory. Sometimes, hopiar soldiers had difficulty returning to human form when recovering from a terrible wound or after a long battle – their animal instincts were so strong that they would overcome their humanity.

Theo knew of only one man who had gotten stuck as a wolf. Unbidden, the image of the man's eyes fading, all human intelligence waning to animal, slaps him, overlaying itself onto Luka's upturned face.

Theo shakes his head. That won't happen.

Luka whines, and Theo gently brushes the fox's thick, coarse fur.

"Sometimes, it can be harder when you are tired," Theo says, turning away. "Maybe we should try again in the morning." The words weigh heavy on his tongue. Theo wonders if Luka can tell that he's lying.

Though the initial change should be difficult, it is never impossible, not even for a child. The divide between animal and human is always clear, even at such a young age. Already, almost a full day separates them from the trauma at Cesscounthe. More than enough time for Luka's heartbeat to have calmed, for his human and animal brain to have divided.

That Luka hasn't changed back now means that they're tightly wedded things.

Theo sneaks a look at Luka's eyes once again – human intelligence still flickers there. He tries not to feel silly at the cool relief that washes over him.

"Tomorrow," Theo repeats because Luka cannot reply. He sits, turning his back to Luka and the fire, facing the oncoming darkness of the plains. "Sleep now, Siacchian. I'll bank the fire shortly into my watch. We can't have it going for long – we'll shine like a beacon out here."

Luka makes a small noise, though whether it's in protest or agreement, Theo can't tell. When he finally turns back to look at the man, Luka has curled into a ball, his tail tucked neatly over his nose, his face softened in slumber.

When Luka's shoulders shake in an involuntary shiver, Theo must resist the urge to pull him closer, to hold Luka's body against his own.

Mate or not, if he is stuck in that body, he's a tool that has no use for me.

Theo looks away, throwing dirt over the fire and watching as the flames die to flickering coals.

In the distance, a thin pillar of smoke rises. Theo tenses. Other travelers? Possibly.

Pursuers sent by Octavian?

More likely.

He looks back at Luka's sleeping form.

I can't win back my title with dead weight.

If I can't fix him… Theo knows he can't look at Luka with these traitorous thoughts creeping through him. He stares up at the endless expanse of stars instead.

The right choice will be to leave him behind.

And Theo knows he's right – logically.

He only wishes it didn't hurt his heart quite so much.