2. Chapter Two: Luka

Chapter Two – Luka

L uka has hunted before, but never like this.

The ground gives beneath his feet as he tears after the rabbit, steaming pants escaping his muzzle – his sharp teeth. Already, his mouth waters at the thought of tearing into the creature's soft flesh, at the sensation of the hot, salty blood welling in his mouth and flowing down his chin.

Luka swallows down drool as his speed increases, so close now – his father would be proud. Luka has never caught something on these hunts before –

But then the rabbit changes. It slows and broadens, growing shoulders and rising to a towering height. Luka skids to a stop, not on four paws, he realizes as he stares up at the now man standing before him, but on human feet. His body still heaves, singing from the thrill of the chase. Sweat rolls down his chest – he's naked – naked and burning up.

Burning up because the desire to hunt has changed to the desire for something else. Something that belongs to Luka – not to his beast.

The man squares his shoulders. His blond hair is drawn into a messy braid, ruffled as if he has just woken from slumber. His eyes are anything but tired; no, his amber gaze is so hot it scorches as it peruses Luka's naked body like one would a feast.

The man – Luka refuses to admit his name, even to himself, though he knows this face and he knows this body – seizes Luka. For a moment, time seems to stretch as the man bends down and his nose brushes against Luka's – as their breaths intermingle.

And then the man consumes Luka with a fiery kiss.

The intensity overwhelms him. Luka devours. The man's tongue fills his mouth as his hands wander Luka's body, first stroking his sides and squeezing his ass, and then, finally – oh, how long Luka has waited for this – seizing his growing cock in a vise grip.

Luka groans into the man's mouth, and the man chuckles, eating up the noise.

"I want to hear you scream for me, Childes."

And just like that, the dream shatters –

Luka wakes with a muted gasp, one hand wrapped around his hardening cock, the other pressed over his mouth, instinctually muffling any noises.

Hands.

For a moment, he can ignore the implications of the dream and instead celebrate that he is freed from his impyassus form. He inhales deeply – no longer can he scent Theo's woodsy smell or the horse's heavy stench or the siren's song of the nearby rabbits tucked into the grasslands. And now, when he sighs with relief and stares up at the rising dawn, his eyes can take in the soft violets and ambers.

His relief is short-lived though, as memories of his dream – and the fact that his hand still grips himself – pulls him back to the immediate reality.

The reality that his body is warm and pliant. That there is a man – a delicious smelling man – but an arm's reach away. Luka's eyes flicker to Theo, his mouth going dry. Theo's face is soft with sleep, his upturned lips parted. He is wrapped in his furred cloak, but in the night, his robes slipped down to reveal his marble-like chest. One nipple puckers against the morning breeze. Luka swallows.

Somehow he manages to look away, but he cannot halt his hand as it jerks faster around his cock. His eyes drift to Theo's lips – oh, that kiss they had shared – how Luka longs for another. How he longs for Theo to trail that perfect mouth down his body.

I'm sure that mouth would feel so delightful around my –

Theo stirs, his face twitching and nostrils flaring, and Luka pauses. For half a second, logic tries to plant itself within him with firm roots, but Luka's hand is far more persuasive.

Maybe , some quiet part of him hopes, if Theo wakes up and sees me like this, he won't be able to resist.

Luka's hand flies to his mouth to muffle the groan that escapes at the thought. An image fills his mind of Theo leaning close, his lips brushing Luka's ear, whispering, Who said you could touch yourself like this without my permission?

Luka's back arches as he imagines Theo's hands drifting past his cock and toward his ass. He imagines those broad fingers probing and pressing, pushing against that most intimate part of him.

He imagines Theo entering him, one finger at a time, and his eyes roll back in his head.

He can't take this – he has to move before he loses himself completely.

Somehow, Luka forces his legs to carry him around the cedar. There, he braces his forehead against the bark, jamming one fist into his mouth and the other pumping –

Theo would murmur into Luka's ear, kissing down his neck. He would press his cock against Luka's ass, the head nudging against him –

Luka comes with a barely suppressed gasp, his body shuddering. He gives his cock a few pumps as he spasms, eyes rolling back in his skull.

Slowly, as the heat drains from his body and the dawn's chill settles in, horror goosebumps across his skin.

What did I just do?

"Lockehart?" Theo calls.

Luka stiffens, closing his eyes. Maybe this is just another dream. He'll wake up shortly, his hand still wrapped around his dick, but this time , he'll think with his brain and not his penis.

But the cold only continues to settle around him, drawing shivers across his naked body.

A different kind of heat consumes Luka's face.

"What are you doing back there?"

Luka hurriedly wipes his hands on the tree's leaves, hoping the heavy, woodsy scent will help disguise it. He has only just managed to cup himself with his hands when Theo rounds the tree.

The other man's eyes widen as he looks Luka up and down. Luka splutters, the heat in his cheeks now surely creeping down his neck. He can only imagine how he must look, goose-pimpled, dark locks wild from sleep and likely filled with twigs. He desperately hopes that Theo mistakes his flush for embarrassment and embarrassment alone, and not a postcoital glow.

Theo looks Luka over for the third time before he jerks away. "I see you've recovered your human shape," he says, adjusting his robes. He undoes his cloak and holds it out, not looking at Luka.

Luka accepts the fur gratefully. "Yes," he says, unable to conjure any other words.

"So you embraced your human desires?"

"Wh-wh-what?" Luka begins, before he remembers what Theo told him to do – the most ridiculous advice. Luka never thought to embrace any feeling other than cold logic, and the idea of trying to override his animal instincts to stalk prey and sleep beneath the sun with more untamed feelings had been unthinkable.

But that's exactly what his dream did.

He is not what I desire, Luka tells himself as he wraps the cloak around his shivering body. "I just needed to relieve myself," he says, and it's the truth.

"Right," Theo says. "Well, clean yourself up then. I have some spare clothes in Geriin's saddlebags. You can wear those. We still have a long journey ahead. You can ride, yes?"

Luka says, intelligibly, articulately, "Yes."

"Good. I'll stay in wolf form so I can keep pace. I'll see if I can hunt us down a rabbit or something for breakfast, too." Theo nods, pressing a hand to his cheeks. It is only as he spins away, waving his arm as if to tell Luka to hurry up, that Luka can make out a similar blush on his face.

And a bulge in his pants.

Luka has ridden a horse before, but he's not very good. After a quick, impromptu lesson with Theo wedged behind him, his hips nestling Luka's in a way that was far too reminiscent of Luka's dreams, they are off. Luka, thankfully, is left to ride solo, while Theo runs alongside Geriin in – thankfully – wolf-form, making it impossible for him to make commentary on Luka's terrible riding ability.

The only unfortunate factor of the silence is that it leaves him to worry. His mother's face haunts him when he closes his eyes – the way she had looked at him when she split Evland Childes' stomach open, the way she had held a knife to Xyla Mobiele's throat, threatening the life of his best friend and once-lover, the way she promised to kill not only Luka… but also Cassian.

Cassian .

Luka's heart squeezes painfully at the thought of his little brother. What would Linne tell him had happened to Luka?

My own brother likely thinks I'm either dead at the hand of the Kiterans… or worse – a traitor.

Luka shakes himself, eyes flying open as he tightens his grip on Geriin's reins. The horse snorts and tosses her head, and Luka splutters, remembering that Theo had warned him about her sensitivity to emotions.

"It's alright," Luka murmurs, attempting to pat her neck, though the beast barely seems to notice. Instead she slows to a walk, tossing her head again. Is she glaring at me?

Theo, who had been running ahead of the horse to lead the way, pauses and looks back. Even in wolf form, his exasperation is clear. Before Luka can explain, Theo's fur ripples and his bones crunch. Luka covers his face, bracing himself for a naked, angry Theo –

But Theo still wears his robes from before. They fall into place and cover all the essential bits – that was what those bunches of fabric had been around his neck in wolf form? – and Luka isn't sure if he's relieved or disappointed.

"Why are we slowing?" Theo demands.

"I didn't mean to," Luka says. "She just – she just stopped!"

" She isn't the problem here."

Luka glares. Theo ignores him and goes to gently stroke the mare's face, cooing and gazing into her honey-colored eyes. The horse wickers softly, and Luka shifts, uncomfortable with the idea that the mare might be sharing his secrets… and, stranger still, uncomfortable with the sour bubble of jealousy that swells in his stomach.

"She's fine," Theo declares. He levels his gaze with Luka, and Luka again hates the way his body reacts to the attention – like a flower unfurling under the blaze of the sun, his shoulders opening and his heart warming.

Those feelings wilt when Theo says, "You're the problem."

"I'm the problem?"

"I told you we were in a hurry –"

"In a hurry toward where? You haven't even told me what the whole plan is, Theo!"

Theo flinches when Luka says his name. Luka grits his teeth. He has pointedly avoided such familiarity until now, when habit makes it slip loose.

Theo's face, which is already glowing red from sunburn and exertion, grows almost cherry-like. Finally, he spits out, "The South."

"The South?"

"Hessalar. The capital of the Southern nation."

"Balivartia's capital?"

"Yes! I've told you already! And why do you keep repeating everything I say!" Theo's voice reaches a tenor Luka has never heard before. "Yes, we're going to the capital of Balivartia, and yes, of course, I have a plan! Just ride the Mother-damned horse and keep quiet, and maybe we'll actually make it there in time to do something!"

Luka is almost relieved that he can feed his frustration and fears into the glowing fire of his anger. He spits out, words soft and cold, "I'm not one of your soldiers. I don't just follow orders mindlessly. Either tell me what you're planning, or –"

Luka pauses, but his ultimatum, even left unspoken, only angers Theo further.

"Or? Or what? What are you going to do, Luka? Go back to your mother, who tried to kill you? Go back to the city that hates you and everyone like you? There is no one for you. You already turned down the one chance you had to go somewhere else because you wanted to be with me."

Luka nearly speaks, but Theo continues with a snarl, "So keep riding. I will explain everything to you tonight."

Luka climbs off the horse. Theo's hands knot in his hair as Luka nearly face plants while struggling to dismount. It is only when solid ground is beneath his feet that Luka manages to say, "I will not go another step farther until you explain to me what you're planning on doing."

Theo slams his face into his hands to muffle the frustrated roar that escapes him.

Very mature.

Luka is almost grateful he is able to witness this side of Theo. Before, the man was always so perfect and painfully easy to like (even under the circumstances in which they had met). But now, melting beneath the soft heat of the sun, Luka wishes he could say he feels nothing but distaste and anger.

Well – and a bit of amusement. For all that he huffs and puffs, he is cute –

Luka upends the thought.

"We need to take a break," Luka says. His stomach growls. "I saw a river a little way back. Why don't you scamper off and catch some rabbits for us like you said you would –" Theo's eye twitches – "and I'll fill up the wineskin. Alright?"

Theo walks until he's towering over Luka. His eyes roll – but oddly enough, no angry wolf hovers there. Only a frustrated and slightly sweaty human.

Despite himself, Luka finds the power to add a slight, almost whispered, "Please?"

The word softens the angry lines in Theo's face. The man heaves a sigh as his own stomach gurgles. "Fine."

This time when he turns away, he pointedly removes his robes. Luka tries to avert his eyes as the cloth pools around Theo's feet, but he still catches Theo's gaze as the man looks over his shoulder.

Luka's cheeks warm at the sight of Theo's perfectly sculpted back – shoulders carved with muscles that roll down his spine, toward his well-shaped ass –

As Luka looks away, Theo hunches and fur sprouts from his skin. Theo's wolf spares Luka one last look – and his eyes are shockingly soft in this animal form, almost… sympathetic – but before Luka can contemplate it, Theo sprints away.

Luka collects Geriin's reins and tries to persuade the horse into the shade of the tree on the hill behind them. Theo's words haunt him as he drags the beast up the slope.

Where else could I go?

He could try to find Xyla, of course, but the woman already headed north nearly a day and a half before. And if she went in beast form, Luka would likely be far too late to catch up.

Thoughts of his father – Carlo was always so kind to him – are even more scorching than his anger. Unexpected and uncalled-for tears fill Luka's eyes, and he furiously swipes them away. Carlo had been complicit in the murder of his first son, and would likely stand by as Linne killed Luka… and then Cassian as well.

Cassian, who has less than a year left to prove himself before he is made to take the Bombani Exam. Less than a year left to show that he is not the beast that Linne suspects him to be… or else he will be put to death.

Luka jams his fists against his eyes. Less than a year .

That has to be enough time for Luka to gather allies. For him to solidify his relationship with Theo, as rocky as it seems now, and for them to find someone powerful enough to help take Linne down – because Luka is far too weak, too foolish, to manage such a thing alone.

Someone powerful enough… Luka blinks, surprise finally halting his tears.

He has been to the Southern capital of Balivartia before – once, when he was very young, on an ambassador trip with Linne.

Maybe Hessalar isn't the worst place to go after all.

Luka is grateful that it takes the better part of the afternoon for Theo to return in human form, two rabbits dangling from his hands.

"Where's the fire?" Theo asks as he accepts the filled wine skin. He drinks deeply, the water trailing down the exposed planes of his chest and the bobbing outcrop of his throat.

Luka frowns, crossing his arms. Of course, he knew they would need a way to cook the rabbits, but…

"I don't know how to make one," he mumbles.

"What?"

"I don't know how to make one!"

To Luka's surprise, Theo chuckles. "No need to shout. Hopiar hearing, remember?"

Luka's cheeks warm as he recalls that morning and the soft noises he likely wasn't able to muffle. Theo has not mentioned it, and Luka is grateful… if suspicious.

"At least you gathered us some wood," Theo says as he sets the rabbits down. "I take it you don't know how to skin anything, either?"

Luka grinds his teeth. "No need to rub it in."

"You've never even gone camping?" Theo prepares the fire expertly and has a tiny flame growing in minutes.

"Only when I was very young," Luka replies. Memories of that dreadful fox hunt flash through his mind's eye –

Those were foxes.

Bile sours Luka's throat and turns his stomach as he recalls his father raising the fuille and pulling the trigger, releasing a blaze of smoke and a bone rattling boom. The sight of red fur soaked in blood.

Theo strips the rabbits of their skin and guts and places them over the fire to cook. Luka's grumbling stomach is instantly at odds with itself.

"So tell me," Luka says, relieved when his voice emerges even. "Why Hessalar? Who are these allies you are seeking out?"

Theo focuses on skinning the second rabbit and placing it over the fire, taking his time before he replies. Finally, he says, "I didn't say we were looking for allies , exactly."

"Theo," Luka begins, his exasperation clear.

"Hessalar contains many opportunities, but it is the last place Octavian will expect for me to turn because it… it houses the person who saw to my first and only defeat in battle."

Luka looks up from the crackling fire and the beads of fat trickling off his meal. "What?"

Theo turns a rabbit, the muscles in his jaw flexing. "The Snake of the South. One of the demon princes – you've likely heard of him. The third heir."

Cathalan?

An image of a snot-nosed boy with a wisp of dark hair and a gap-toothed smile flashes in Luka's thoughts – a memory so long ago, he nearly forgot it.

Luka often avoided his Kiteran history lessons, but this was too close to home. Theo must be mistaken. The prince would have been only a teenager – too young for such things.

"You could avoid Octavian by other means," Luka says. "If we are so unlikely to find allies in Balivartia, we're likely better off heading elsewhere." Like the North, where you should have people who would want to support you – like your family.

But perhaps Theo, like Luka, has lost his family already – to either war or betrayal. His parents are dead, Luka knows that much.

Theo blinks and then narrows his eyes as he processes Luka's words. Finally, he says, his light Kiteran accent thickening with emotion, "You don't know Octavian like I do."

Well, that's certainly true . The two had undoubtably been fucking.

"And the enemy of my enemy is my friend. The Snake of the South saw to my loss over a decade ago, but that was when we were facing each other on our superiors' orders. Now, the Southern king wastes away from illness and age, and I approach him of my own volition. Things will be different. I am sure of it."

Theo tests a rabbit and, finding it cooked, hands it to Luka. He blows on it before Luka can take a bite. "It's hot," he warns, and Luka's mind dives down a dangerous avenue that involves Theo's mouth shaping those same words in a very different situation. Luka narrowly manages to emerge from those thoughts.

"And we couldn't go with Xyla to Akull because…?"

Theo laughs bitterly. "You think Octavian wouldn't have already told them of my terrible betrayal and how he had to assume command? They will all be expecting me – and preparing for my death. No, we will lie low until we've created powerful enough ties they will be forced to accept us."

"What about Xyla?"

"Your friend? I sent her to the one person that might be willing to help… and she made her choice."

Theo tears a piece of the rabbit off, steam billowing from the meat. Luka does the same, his mouth watering as he swallows the roasted rabbit down.

"This is all very vague," Luka says as the food warms his stomach. " How are we going to make powerful allies with these so-called demon princes? Why are they even called that? I assume they'll be under heavy security, so we likely won't even able to directly speak to them –"

"I imagine that once I make my presence known, the third son will want to have a word with me."

Luka presses his lips together. "Theo – what if he just wants your head on the end of his sword?"

"What is your plan then, Siacchian? How are you planning on retaking your home and defeating your mother?" Theo pins Luka with a cool, appraising stare. "And don't you have a brother to save? How long did she say you have until she will wring his neck like she did your elder sibling's?"

The bite of rabbit catches in Luka's throat, and his eyes water as he looks away. Theo's plan might be a poor one – obviously the man is still blinded by the betrayal of his lieutenant and unable to think clearly – but it is a plan that Luka can still use to his advantage. "I'm sure we can find allies in Hessalar," he says quietly. He remains silent until he has stripped the rabbit to its bones. Stomach full, he shakes himself and stands. "We should get going then."

"Lu –" Theo starts, but then stops himself. He adjusts his clothing so he can shift into wolf form. "Fine," he says. "We have a few more hours of travel before dark." He looks ahead. They stand upon the rise of a hill. Below, a little village hums with activity, cooking fires burning. Despite the rabbit, Luka's stomach growls.

"I have a better idea," Luka says. He pats Geriin's nose as he passes her. She nibbles at his fingers, and he must fight a smile. "We needn't spend so much time hunting if we gather supplies beforehand, don't you think?"

Theo is silent for a long time. Luka finally meets his troubled gaze.

"We'll go with the plan I wanted to use back at the Kiteran camp. When we were trying to steal back Geriin," Theo finally says.

"Right. I'll just do whatever you say."

Luka returns his gaze to the village. Is it Gliatria? No, they aren't far enough south. Perhaps Hecchia? No matter. They should be fine if they can pilfer some supplies. It is the right move, the move he would make if this were all a game of Cesse.

His eyes slide to Theo. So long as things go according to plan.

"You absolute idiot! " Theo shouts, sparing Luka a scathing glare as he runs, the single loaf of burned bread tucked beneath his arm.

"Me?" Luka gasps. Each breath feels like it burns as he sprints, hardly able to keep up. Thank Thought Geriin came when called. He can already see her waiting. He only needs to clear this wretched hill.

At their backs, the horde of angry villagers shrieks. "You kicked my baby!" shouts one, which Luka is certain is untrue, though when another says, "You ruined my cabbages!" he realizes that perhaps his memory is failing him.

Everything is a blur. One moment, the plan was going perfectly; and the next, Theo, smiling, speaking to a vendor, was saying, "Evland, why don't you come over here?" and then everything fell to pieces.

"What is the point of a tool that only fails?" Theo shouts as they run. He tosses Luka the bread, which Luka manages to catch – barely – before they both mount Geriin. There is no time to change form – and doing so will only attract more attention.

"It's not like –" Luka struggles for words between breaths. "You ever make things any easier for me!"

"We will find you!" howls one woman as Theo kicks Geriin into a gallop. Luka bounces painfully.

"Duck!" Theo shouts in his ear.

Luka clutches the loaf of bread to his chest as a shoe arcs over their heads. Geriin snorts, but only increases in speed at Theo's urging.

It is only some time later, both sweaty and exhausted and only a loaf of bread richer, that Luka looks at Theo and says, "Tool?"

Theo mutters something under his breath about needing to fill their wineskin and turns, leaving Luka alone with the horse. Luka brushes dirt from Geriin's sides and feeds her grass, trying to focus on the mossy feel of her lips on his palm and not think about Theo. Not think about how, time after time, Theo has blamed Luka for failures that were not Luka's own.

Right?

Wrong, whispers a voice that sounds so much like his mother's, Luka recoils. He bites his lip.

It would make sense that this was all Luka's fault. He is a failure, after all, and has been his whole life. His mother only kept that from him.

He says nothing when Theo returns. They only break into a trot again, Luka riding, Theo walking, so they might put more distance between themselves and the village, even though the day has long since turned to night.

For the next nine days, they advance, alternating between Theo riding and Luka walking, and Theo running alongside Luka on horseback. To Luka's horror, the riding never gets any easier, but his ass does get sorer.

They travel until the grasslands fade to sand, the waving green fronds wilting to pale white, and then vanishing into rolling hills of gold and bronze. The sun only grows hotter, and one night, Luka tears the scraps of his cloak into shreds and fashions head coverings for himself and Theo to combat the terrible sunburn spreading down their exposed arms and cheeks. Though Luka's skin has freckled and darkened, Theo only grows redder and redder as the days pass.

And each night…

The days are long and hard, but the nights are even harder.

Exhaustion makes it easy for sleep to claim him, but in the darkness behind his eyelids, Luka is almost always met with nightmares – or worse – memories.

Jagged recollections spear him, pulling him back into dark cold nights, his breath fogging the air, his mother's hand tight around his as she yanks him from the protective walls of Cesscounthe. Alessandro's grave looms, unmarked, but forever clear in Luka's mind, like a lighthouse guiding him to the first of his mother's sins. The first of her failures.

But then the dreams warp, and Luka finds himself running – running from the people who have discovered he is a monster, running from Xyla's disappointed face when she learns he still wants to hide, running from his parents and the little brother he left behind –

And then he isn't running anymore. He's chasing. The rabbit darts from him on quick little legs, but it's never fast enough. Drool drips from sharp fangs as Luka descends, savoring the rend of flesh and the hot salt of blood –

Sometimes, if Luka is lucky, he wakes before he catches the rabbit. If he is not, then he devours his prey with glee, savoring every bite, only to hear the echoing shouts and then bangs of hunters with their fuilles. They've found me .

Rarely, Theo shakes him awake.

This night is one of those rare occasions.

"Lockehart," Theo usually never speaks Luka's name, but now he whispers it like a caress. "Wake up."

Luka's eyes flutter, blinking away memories of his mother's disappointed scowl, his father's bloodied hands, and Cassian's accusing eyes. Instantly, he touches his lips, expecting to find them wet with gore. Instead, he finds his cheeks damp.

Theo's face swims into view, his brow wrinkled with worry. Luka takes a minute to savor the rare sight before croaking, "I'm fine."

Theo's wrinkled brow furrows deeper, and his throat bobs with a swallow. Finally, he says, "Alright. I'll let you get back to sleep then." His hand lingers on Luka's bare shoulder, fingers hot against Luka's skin. Luka shivers at the wake of cold left in the absence of Theo's grip. As he rolls onto his side, away from the warm fire and the weight of Theo's concerned gaze, he nurtures the flicker of frustration in his belly.

In captivity, Luka gave little thought to his attraction to Theo. Survival had been his goal – so what if he found his attention lingering for too long on the Kiteran? Kidnapping could do strange things to the mind.

But now? Now, when they streak like shooting stars across the countryside, toward Theo's halfhearted attempt at leadership and even poorer effort at partnership? Luka doesn't understand it. Never before has his libido been so poorly aligned with his brain.

Perhaps it is the animal inside of him. This monster he has unleashed. The creature in particular seems to crave Theo. Luka can almost hear it, raking claws down the mental cage Luka has forced it back into, desperate for any bit of attention or touch.

All the more reason to despise the thing. All the more reason to never release it again.

It is only in slumber that Luka and his impyassus can safely become one. And sometimes, when Luka lets himself forget what a terrible thing it is to give into the monster, he almost enjoys himself – racing through the moors of his dreams and crying at the moon, the wind carding through his fur as the world turns to streaks of silver starlight and gray grass.

He pretends he doesn't remember such dreams when morning comes for him.