"Could you hold this for a sec?" Bryce handed Peter's plastic container over to King when he carried the heaviest box they had.

King cocked a brow, a disgusted look on his face. "Dude, why the heck did you even bring this t— you know what, whatever." King didn't even bother. He just hooked his finger on the bottle strap and went on with it.

King and the others huffed along the staircase when they climbed up to the high castle. They wound around long strides of the hall, endless doors greeting them side to side in rows. King wondered what was beyond each and all of it. Some could be free spaces, workshops, library, study, or it may even be a standard bedroom with couples banging just by the bed. He shivered from the mystery.

"If they had informed us that these guys lived in a palace, I wouldn't have been against it!" Constantine tried to whisper against his excitement, although his voice bounced around the stone walls.

"You've never been against it." Donna shushed and elbowed him in the stomach. He winced.

Gabriela, the girl with the eyeglass that bumped into Pandora on the ascension night, discreetly studied them over her shoulder with a cautious look, before she pushed her glasses back again on the highest peak of her nose and looked back in front. They followed her as she led them to their assigned rooms. If you were wondering where the alphas were, well, they were caught up with Hugh and the other high-ranks, and Gabriela stood as one of the many guides for an endless stream of werecats.

"You guys built this thing?" Stan talked again, now directing it at Gabriela since he couldn't keep his mouth shut. Plus, he noticed she seemed shy. He thought this could act as an icebreaker. Or as a reason to open his mouth.

"T-this place didn't really belong to us," Gabriela replied. They drilled holes behind her back. "We were, uh, how do I say this... Well, we were the, uh... slaves of the people who lived here."

"C-cool," Stan awkwardly said, realizing he had touched a taboo spot. Stan finally kept his mouth shut after Donna made him with visual threats.

Then they reached the middle of a hallway, from god knows where in this maze, where an arch stood. Beyond it was a circular pathway with the gaping hole in the middle, just like you'd see in the mall. King held the stone fence and peeked down, seeing flits of people now and then.

"T-these are your rooms," Gabriela gestured at the four doors around the circle.

Constantine gasped in excitement, and Donna slightly chuckled at him. Then he blinked.

Four doors.

"Who's going to share?" he asked. Despite being a pair, Donna and Stan still decided to keep their last barrier up before they get married.

"Pandora and I could share," Donna suggested, eyeing Dora, who gave an approving look.

"A-actually," Gabriela's fingers knotted. "W-we have another room for, uh, M-mr. Stefen?" she sounded unsure. Then she took a paper stashed in the pocket of her tan culottes and swiftly stashed it back. "Stefan," she repeated, fixing her glasses, this time a bit firmer.

Gabriela flushed and felt naked when they drilled a barrage of holes at her using their eyes.

"What," King forced a chuckle, "did I do to deserve such special treatment?"

"U-um, w-well," Gabriela's pitch heightened. She gestured her hands around as it'd help in explaining. "b-because t-this s-spot is jammed! S-so t-the a-alph— I mean, I!" her hand unconsciously drew back to her pocket, but she realized it midway and stopped.

King's smile went rigid.

"U-um, I... w-well, I..." Gabriela looked like she was about to cry. King felt guilty, despite being innocent himself. Though he knew one thing:

They planned this.

"All right," he said.

Gabriela beamed, feeling as if she had escaped death. The three people behind King dramatically gasped, all except for Pandora, who looked indifferent but was worried about his cousin's ass. She loved King, but she also wanted to act like some sort of fairy godmother; give them a chance. Who knows, if they were his mates, then perhaps King would see this in a different sense in the future.

The four had already withdrawn to their stationed room. King's face went paler as they went further and further away from theirs.

"Just how far is this room exactly?"

"Oh," Gabriela exclaimed. She pushed her glasses up again. "w-were actually near."

King felt like a ticking clockwork that was about to explode at any moment. He mentally threw fuck here, threw fuck there, he threw fuck everywhere.

Gabriela stopped. "W-were here," she said.

King narrowed his eyes at the tall door beside them and gulped. But that wasn't what he was worried about. His gaze slowly traveled to the corners of his eyes, to where the three doors next to his stand, all intimidating despite being a seven feet tall block of wood in the wall. The familiar scents were what he was actually worried about. He had a bad feeling about this. Very bad.

Gabriela pushed through the door, and King's eyebrows popped up, lips parting.

"This my room?" King asked, walking in like a turtle.

"Y-yes," Gabriela replied. "I-I'll leave you to your business then, M-mr. Stefan."

"T-thank y—" King was just about to say when Gabriela had already closed the door behind her and bolted away.

He didn't mind much, though. He was stuck, hesitating to land his feet on the grandiose nude carpet. His eyes went here, then there, around the room with the cozy warm shade brought by the opaque lamps.

He dropped the single box he carried on the ground, flinched and gasped when Peter's bottle went with it, shaking the spider in a panic rush as its temporary habitat rolled along the black cherry floor. He forgot to give the spider to Bryce. The younger boy will kill him when he finds out he dropped it. But in the end, he'll never find out.

He retook the bottle and hooked the safety strap into his finger, supposed to bring it back to the boy, but he decided to do it later.

King explored around; he peeked in the stone-interior bathroom to the world beyond the seemingly simple cabinet door.

"What in the world," King whispered to himself, trembling from elatement as he looked around the empty walk-in closet.

Then he blinked when he heard the bedroom door shut just outside. He wondered who it was. He turned from his heels and peeked out, and his eyes nearly fell out of their sockets when he saw Kain again, alone and unannounced, in his room.

"W-what are you doing h—!" King choked on his saliva.

"Enjoying the coziness?" Kain's eyes moved around unenthusiastically as he welcomed himself in.

Coughing, King forced out, "Y-you can't barge in here."

"I just did," the latter huffed, nailing holes at him with bored steel-blue eyes. King couldn't believe this guy.

The werewolf moved towards the bed. He plopped down, pressed both hands on the faux fur comforter. He sharply sighed from the comfort. "Okay. Let's cut the small talk," he said, buff legs wide open. "I'm here to tell you the rules."

King forced a brow up to his scrunched forehead. "R-rules?

"Since you seem as unwilling as I do, how bout we strike up a deal?"

King didn't answer, or more like he couldn't answer. King hated to admit, but this guy was intimidating like a loaded bazooka!

"Rule number one," Kain started, tilting his head and pulling up an index finger in the air. "No one, and I mean, no one other than the people who know now should get the word about..." Kain shrugged. "what we know."

King still didn't answer.

"Number two. Try to stay away from me, would you?"

Gladly.

King lowered his brows and pursed his lips, feeling an angry vein join his ripening face, but he still didn't answer.

When Kain hadn't said more and just continued to pierce him with his intimidating eyes, King finally cleared his throat. "Are you done?" he softly asked, placing a hand on his nape and avoiding eye-to-eye contact with the raven-haired man. "I mean, you didn't have to tell me," he muttered.

It's not like I'll chase you around like a dog.

"Anyway," King cleared his throat again, removing the hand on the back of his neck and forcing his eyes back to the man on the bed, "now that I remember it. I would like to request to get our stuff back. It's not you have... any need for it now."

Kain hung back. "... What stuff?" he asked without the slightest hint of conscience.

"Our luggage in that car right when you chased us before." King was trying to control his face and tone.

Kain picked on his ear. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You son of a—!" King bit back his words.

"... You son of a what?" Kain asked. There was a cold swirl in his glacial eyes.

Uh oh.

King flinched and struggled with swallowing the sudden knot in his throat when the big bad werewolf rose.

"I'm a son of a what?" the man asked again, inching towards the young werecat.

—

Kain would be a son of what in your opinion?
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