Iliana thought they would spend the following hours scheming how to rescue Natia.

Her head filled with the image of her wielding a sword in the nightmare's defense alongside Callias and the Wolves as Eumelia broke the young girl's collar. Semele would slay her owner, and they would flee the city before his family could retaliate.

Reality was, Lykos stayed collapsed on the bed for several minutes, before grumbling under his breath, and beckoning to Semele. The two then disappeared with Eumelia after calling in Nori and Abarron to guard Iliana.

The first stood stiffly with his back to the door as Abarron motioned for them to join him on the floor. He drew dice from his pocket. Remembering her previous plans to endear herself to the crew, Iliana reluctantly allowed herself to be coaxed into a familiar game. The rules he laid out were no different than what she'd learned years ago from Saul.

"Will they be alright on their own?" Iliana asked after a round.

Nuri snorted, and Abarron shook his head as Iliana shot Nuri a scowl. From his expression, she got the impression he was judging her for questioning Lykos, Semele, and Eumelia's ability to free a slave on their own. Which, was stupid. They were just three people.

"They'll be fine, lass," Abarron told her. "Eumelia's probably headin' back ta her room ta settle Abiel in, an' the other two will go down an' handle this."

"That's even worse. Two people against whatever while protecting a little girl."

Abarron shrugged, and shoved the dice cup into her hands. "This is what they do, lass. Those two've been in far worse situations than this and came out unscathed. There's a reason the wolves are feared, and why all of us follow that man. Now, take your turn."

Despite further efforts to pry information, Abarron remained solely focused on the game. As the rounds passed, she grew anxious, fingers curling over her anklet. It was then she realized she could watch what was going on. If something was wrong, she'd just return and make up an excuse to get involved. It'd work.

Somehow.

As if he could read her mind, when her next turn rolled around, Callias collected the dice before she could touch them.

"You alright with this, Iliana?" Abarron questioned with a quirked brow, amusement clear in his gaze. "Looks like our local seaman wants a round."

She faked a yawn and drew back. "Yeah. I think I might try and catch some sleep, actually. Take advantage of the bed while the rest of them are gone."

"Suit yourself."

Used to catching the bond at this point, Iliana slipped into the other realm moments after settling on the bed. She could feel unseen eyes on her as she followed Lykos' charm, but the short journey finished without a word from whichever god happened to be spying at that moment.

The white-void dropped into reality in that second of breath-stealing nothingness that was beginning to feel familiar. The faint, late-night buzz of conversation and a tired lyre filled the air, which stunk of booze and workers. Where the first floor had been mainly deserted when their group ate, it was now filled with villagers looking for a drink to finish the night. Was the inn the only bar in Aethe?

Whatever the reason for the crowd, Iliana drew closer to a particularly crowded table. In the time since he'd left, Lykos had somehow hooked Akile into a "friendly" drinking competition. As she watched, the mercenary finished his drink, and slammed it down on the table-surface to the cheers of his audience. Akile grimaced around the lip of his cup as he finished his own a second late, then lightly set his mug down.

"And that, gents, finishes round three!" Semele announced, pushing her way through the crowd with two more drinks in hand. "Who here is ready to see number four?"

There was a cheer, and Lykos grinned. His tanned face was flushed, but otherwise he appeared perfectly fine despite how much he'd drank. Akile, on the other hand, swayed faintly in his seat, a scowl on his lips. Apparently he wasn't enjoying the direction this competition was taking.

"You know, I'm impressed," Lykos said, accepting his next mug from Semele. "I didn't think you'd last this long. It's the whole reason I didn't bother with a wager."

Akile scoffed. "You shouldn't underestimate us country folk. I'll be sitting here long after you've passed out, I assure you."

"Hm... perhaps we should add something to this, then," Lykos mused, raising a brow. He settled his elbow on the table, laying his head against his curled knuckles. "A small wager between two, equal competitors."

The inn-keeper seemed to hesitate, his eyes flicking between Lykos and the crowd. It was obvious he'd realized that perhaps making a show of their event had been a bad idea, although Iliana was certain it hadn't been his idea to begin with. The smile Lykos had hidden behind his knuckles looked far too smug for it to have happened without his or Semele's interference.

"What did you have in mind?" Akile questioned.

"Gold seems boring... but I don't have much on me at the moment..."

Lykos hummed under his breath as he tapped his fingers against the side of his mug. Then, he raised his head, and reached into his collar to retrieve a leather cord Iliana hadn't noticed hanging beneath the fabric. Realizing that since she technically wasn't there she had no reason not to stand closer, she closed the distance between them so that she could study the "necklace" he'd produced.

An expensive looking signet ring hung off of the leather cord. It looked old, and therefore hard to make out the indented design, but she caught sight of a sword in the center, and... writing? If it was, the words weren't in a language she recognized.

"You didn't steal that, did ya?" Akile asked, squinting at the ring.

"Of course not," Lykos replied with a laugh. "It was passed down through my family. Worth a lot of gold, this ring. What'll you wager?"

She wondered if that was the truth. He didn't look like a noble... but only nobles and merchants had signet rings, right? Why would a mercenary need one?

Akile's expression had a greedy edge to it now. He dug into his pocket, pulling out a coin purse to dump on the table. Lykos leaned forward to study the pieces, then shook his head.

"That's not near enough to be equal. Haven't you got something else to offer?"

The inn-keeper furrowed his brow as he looked between his collection of silver and coppers, and the ring. That greed still lit his eyes, along with confidence born of a crowd and a few too many drinks.

"... we're simple folk here. I doubt anything I own would match," Akile grumbled.

Lykos made a show of considering it, drumming his fingers on the table. "It's a shame. I saw that 'mare out front and thought this had to be a well-off establishment to be owning something like it."

"It's just a 'mare," Akile snorted. "That don't mean nothing."

"Why don't you just bet the girl, Akile!" someone suggested.

"Yeah, just bet the girl, it's not like you're gonna lose, right?"

One-by-one, the crowd chimed their agreement. Iliana had to wonder if it was natural, or if coins had been exchanged to make them suddenly offer the one thing she realized Lykos had been fishing for.

"... fine, I'll bet the 'mare. You win, I'll give you its key."

"Hm..." Lykos studied his ring, letting the cord slowly spin, before he laid it on the table and saluted Akile with his cup. "It's a deal."

What followed had to have been exactly what Lykos had expected when starting this venture. Given the disparity between their states when the bet was placed, it only took two full mugs of ale to finish Akile off. As the inn-keeper mumbled something flush against the surface of the table, his expression hidden by the old wood, Lykos pressed for information from the crowd, then the staff, about the location of Natia's keys.

The barkeep turned out to be Akile's son, and while reluctant, he seemed to decide it was a good idea not to finch a mercenary. Within ten minutes of Akile's defeat, Lykos held two pieces of iron that looked too small to control a young girl's life. The first a thin rod that connected to the back of a flat circle, and the second an actual key.

Leaving the drunks behind them, Semele and Lykos excited the inn. Iliana half-considered watching their backs--she had a bad feeling about how easy this seemed--but something unseen pushed her after him. It was as if an invisible, moving barrier had been erected to ensure she wouldn't stray far from Lykos. So, she followed them into the chilly night.

"This feels like--" Semele began.

"Don't say it," Lykos interrupted with a soft voice. "... please."

The harpy grimaced as they approached the stables. "You're meant for this, Lykos. Don't pretend any differently. There's a reason--"

"I said drop it, Semele."

The finality in his tone seemed to do the trick, as Semele fell silent with a dissatisfied ruffle of her feathers. Lykos began to peek into the stalls one-by-one and a sinking feeling settled into the pit of Iliana's stomach. The man wouldn't have left Natia to sleep out here with the horses, would he? The days might still be warm, but with each week that passed, the nights chilled. Soon, trees would be bare, and the mountains topped with snow.

It wasn't weather you left a young girl to sleep in.

But, sleeping she was. Curled into a ball much like the animal her kind preferred to be, Natia rested in the back of an empty stall atop a mound of hay. As they approached, something about their silent steps must've alerted the nightmare, because she jerked up, lavender eyes almost seeming to glow in the dark. If she'd been a wolf, her ears would've been pressed back, and her fur on edge.

"Relax," Lykos murmured. "We aren't here to hurt you."

Reasonably, Natia didn't seem to believe him. He took a step closer, and the young girl scrambled back, pressing her back to the wall. Lykos paused, exchanging a look with Semele as Natia bared her teeth at them. A soft rumble echoed from her throat. It was a growl that felt... off coming from a human. More animalistic than should've been possible.

"What do you expect?" Iliana demanded. "A big, scary guy like you approaches a defenseless kid in the night. Anyone would be terrified, let alone a slave girl."

As expected, her words fell on deaf ears. For a heartbeat, no one moved. They simply watched one another, weighing the tension, before Lykos groaned and sat where he stood.

"If I go back up there smelling like horse shit, I'm blaming you," he told Semele.

She snorted. "I told you to let me handle this part. The shit sitting is your own fault."

"You hear her?" Lykos asked Natia, pointing his thumb towards Semele. "My own fault. She's the one who insisted I win the keys to that collar you're wearing. None of this falls on me."

Iliana watched, amazed, as the words seemed to work some sort of magic. Or maybe it was how his position kept him from towering over her, and would make a sudden attack hard for him to perform. Either way, the defensive tension didn't leave her frame, but Natia stopped baring her teeth. Her eyes darted to Lykos' hands. He grinned.

"Looking for these?" he asked, digging said keys from his pocket. He dangled them from his fingers. "I don't know if you'd recognize them, all the cheap ones look the same, but they're yours."

Natia's eyes glued to the keys, a silent longing clear in her gaze. Apparently seeing the same thing, Lykos tossed them across the stables. She jerked back, hitting the wall, as the metal landed in the dirt with a soft clink. For all the effort Natia made to reach for them, you might've thought they were a snake about to bite her hand.

"Do you know how to use them?" Lykos questioned.

The wolf-girl hesitated, glancing between him and the keys. Then, she slowly nodded. Everything apparently settled in his eyes, Lykos stood and dusted off his pants. Then, he offered Natia a smile brighter than anything Iliana had seen from him to date.

"It's scary, and doesn't seem real, I know. But, those are for you to use. I swore long ago I'd never own someone, and I'm not planning on changing my mind anytime soon. Take tonight to decide what you want, and if you've disappeared come morning, that's fine. With the collar gone you shouldn't have trouble changing forms. I don't believe there's a pack of your kind nearby, but there are mountains, so you should be able to hide from folk who'd mean you harm." He paused, scratching his cheek. "Did you... get all that? I know words don't come natural to your people, so..."

That bit of information tickled something in the back of Iliana's mind. She'd heard something similar, long ago. Stories about how nightmares like Natia were intelligent animals that could shift into humans, rather than the opposite as most assumed. As a result, they tended to communicate through body language, growls, moon songs, and the like. Which, in Iliana's opinion, was its own language. The majority of folks disagreed, though, leaving the nightmares to learn speech if they wished to trade with their local villages.

Iliana drew closer as Natia hesitated, then offered a short nod. Was Lykos really planning on leaving the girl alone in the dark?

"You ass," she told him.

He, of course, didn't hear her. Or maybe he did, as he chose that second to nod and turn away from Natia, starting back towards the inn. Swearing under her breath, Iliana trailed behind him and Semele, pausing midway to glance back at the stables. The moonlight provided just enough illumination for her to see Natia hadn't moved, she still sat with her back pressed to the stable wall, fingers digging into the dirt as she watched the keys with an unreadable expression in her haunted face.

The inn door slammed into the wall behind her, pulling Iliana's attention back to the others. Akile stood in the door, if supporting his weight against the frame could be called standing, his face flushed red.

"Ya drugged me," he declared, spitting at the earth between them. "Fuckin' sympathizers, the bunch of you, I bet. I ain't never passed so fast. Ya had to 'ave cheated." His eyes slid between Lykos and Semele, studying them as neither spoke a word. "Or, are you just the type wanting to fu--"

"I would ask you to watch your words, good sir," Lykos drawled. His usual, smug, commoner speech had disappeared. In its place was a lethal, educated confidence. "You wouldn't want to give me a reason to ask for a duel of honor."

Akile sneered. "As if the like of yers have any honor. Everyone knows drug peddlers and nightmare fuckers are forsaken by the fucking gods themselves."

A shiver of souceless fear slid down Iliana's spine as Lykos closed his eyes, drawing in a slow breath.

"Da, leave it!" the barkeep call from inside. "Ya lost fair and square."

Then, as the inn-keep stumbled from the doorway, continuing to sputter curses, Lykos turned his head, slate-gray eyes flicking open to meet Semele's gaze.

"You're fine with this, aren't you?" he questioned.

Iliana had no clue what Semele was supposed to be fine with, as being insulted didn't strike her as the sort of thing the harpy would put up with, but Semele slowly nodded her agreement, a lazy smile on her lips.

"Knock yourself out, Wolf."

He flashed a toothy grin in response before focusing on Akile. Then, just as his intentions clicked in Iliana'd mind, Lykos shifted from his relaxed stance into a heavy kick, sending the drunk flying backwards through the doorway.

"Sir!" the barkeep exclaimed, hopping the counter. "I know he was being rude, but you can't just--"

He cut off as Lykos lunged forward, shoving his boot under Akile's chin. The innkeeper's eyes bulged. He scrambled to shove Lykos away, breaths coming in stifled gasps, but failed.

Iliana realized in that second, watching the blankness of Lykos' expression, that this him was the man who commanded a city. It begged the question... which him was the real one? The one crouching down as he suffocated a man with his boot, or the one who joked with a child over his shoulders?

Semele held the barkeep back, the previous crowd leaving a careful distance between them and the unfolding events. Apparently Akile wasn't so well liked that the villagers would defend him. Good.

Iliana nearly grimaced at the thought, then remembered no one could see her and gave into the urge. Gods, how jaded that sounded, being glad that someone was potentially about to get the shit beat out of them, maybe die, and she was standing here glad to see it happen. Sure, he was a slaver... but did that really excuse her passiveness?

What did it say about her that she didn't care?

Lykos drew a knife from his boot, and there was a shout of pain from Semele's direction. Iliana's attention remained on the duo in front of her, however, as Lykos trailed the edge of the weapon up Akile's trembling arm, then settled the tip beneath the man's chin. A gasp of surprise sounded behind her, and Iliana glanced back to see Natia standing just outside the stables, the keys grasped tightly between her hands.

"Fuck, Lykos you can't do this in front--" Iliana began, taking a step towards the girl, then cutting off as the crowd behind them went deafly silent, and a faint, gurgle of pain touched the air.

Iliana would've turned around to confirm what happened, but her eyes were stuck on Natia. The keys she'd been so desperately holding had dropped from her hands at the sound, her eyes going wide. A single, shaking hand raised to touch the collar at her throat as she mouthed something Iliana couldn't understand. The meaning was clear in Natia's eyes, though, as the sound of Lykos shuffling to his feet sounded behind Iliana.

The nightmare would follow him anywhere, for that. 

Iliana realized, then, why the Wolves were considered dangerous by governments. Why Eol left Nokos alone, despite it being a den of criminals.

If Lykos ever bothered to turn his lethal gaze to the capital... if every wolf and citizen of Nokos looked at him with eyes like those...

The crown wouldn't stand a chance.

Eol was lucky that the this king in their midst refused to lead.