"Nothing happened," King hissed at Pandora, who was in front of him.

The girl casually stared back at him, her mouth just zipped.

"I told you, 'nothing happened'!" King complained.

"I didn't say anything," Pandora uttered, looking back at the countless grandiose meals placed along in the Great Hall after the Lykaios hosted a feast as a celebration of their first coalition night.

"Your eyes totally did!"

"Well, technically, something did really happened for you guys to be... on that position." Pandora moved along, ignoring the assortment of seafood dishes.

"I said, 'nothing happened'!" King fought as he trailed behind her, eyebrows wrinkled in frustration.

"Calm down. I didn't mean it that way," Pandora explained. "Why was he in your room?"

"He just threw nonsense." King stopped to grab scoops of the plates of seafood, which Pandora was allergic to.

Pandora cocked a brow. "And that is?"

"'How bout we strike up a deal?'" King copied Kain, waving his hand mockingly in the air. "Damned idiot, asking me to stay away from him when he's the one who keeps on barging in," he spat. "And he says I'm his m—" King paused and sharply gasped. He turned around and surveyed if anyone had heard them.

All clear.

Pandora's eyes momentarily followed before she sighed, not from relief, but because, like always, his trouble-magnet cousin troubled her. "Just try to stay away from trouble," was the only thing she said.

"How am I supposed to stay away from trouble when I'm currently living in a place full of troubles?" King stared back at her with an 'are you kidding me' look.

Pandora narrowed her eyes at him. "Right..." she trailed off, "I forgot, you're trouble too."

"Hey—"

"You know the spot when you finished," Pandora said before sauntering towards the 'spot' where Stan, Donna, and Bryce sat. "Don't make any trouble."

"We're just getting food," King's voice tried to catch up to her, "why would I be?"

Pandora didn't look back.

King huffed a snort. He narrowed his eyes while watching his cousin move through the crowd before his eyes moved around to examine the grand hall with the tall walls that reached up to the ceiling. There was a gigantic window on the farthest end where the moon peeked through at them. His eyes then moved down, and that's when he noticed something. The werecats and the werewolves were sitting on opposite sides of each other across six lengthy lines of tables like there was an invisible partition in the middle of the room — and King could sense the waft of awkwardness... and faint hostility.

I guess it's still too early to be buddies, King thought.

Just as he was looking around, his eyes landed on the face of the guy who was confidently talking with his associates, and the same guy he least wanted to see — Kain. King madly blushed and mentally screamed when the scene from earlier flashed so detailedly in his mind. Then, as if sensing his gaze, Kain's eyes snapped at his direction, and his blue eyes widened the same way as King's eyes did... Then he threw the glare bomb.

King was just about to sneer back when someone bumped into him.

"Move out of the way, sucker," Vance spat.

Great, another guy King didn't want to see.

"Why the fuck are you even still here?" the bleach-haired boy continued spitting vinegar.

"I can say the same to myself," King huffed. He looked down on Vance's hand, noticing the mini hill on his plate, which was as big as the one on King's plate.

"Good for you. Now stop blocking." Vance bumped into him again, passing to get to the braised ribs.

King pressed his lips together, and his fingers tightened around the rim of his plate, but he kept himself on the bay. After getting his fill, Vance turned, only to see King stuck on the same spot, giving him a dirty, tinged with pity, look.

"Oh, now you're watching me? What are you, a fag?"

King pressed his tongue against his cheek. His knuckles were really itching so bad.

Don't make any trouble, Pandora's voice rewound like a tape inside King's head.

King's face relaxed, then he sighed, exhaling out instead of firing all the swears he wanted to spit at the other boy. "Vance," he said, shaking his head, "you know, your existence is already annoying enough. You can tone down on trying to annoy me."

Vance's face wrinkled into a grimace. "Hah—"

"Well, well. So it's really the puss?"

Vance's laser eyes darted behind King, and King, himself, blinked as he heard another voice boom beside him. He turned his head to the other side, and his face stiffened once more.

Ahh... Sherlock Bones.

"I was contemplating if I saw things right, but ooh boy, I am," the man chuckled.

King snapped his head straight, lowered his gaze, and faintly sucked in air and blew it out through his clenched teeth.

"So after all that arrogant and mighty attitude, your pride still came here running to ask for kitty help. Ironic being called a pride. That's kinda sad—"

"Would you shut up, blabbermouth?"

King's brows slowly arched, and his wide eyes moved to the corner, as shocked as the ginger-haired guy beside him.

The red-haired's stupefied face slowly wrinkled into a war glare, lower lips slightly quivering from the abrupt reply of a random menacing-looking sixteen-year-old kid.

"H-how about you shut up, kid?"

"Make me, old fart," Vance huffed.

King's face stiffened as he stifled a laugh. He covered his mouth when he let a snort out.

The ginger guy didn't like that. His lips drew back into a snarl—

"Gian! Where are you?!" a man yelled in the background. "We need the tray already!"

Captain Sniffer's eyes — or more like Gian's eyes — rounded. He looked back and forth at the two male werecats, then at a distance with a frown. He gulped. With pursed lips, his hand slowly slithered around the nearly empty tray of braised ribs.

"I won't waste my time on pussy boys," Gian hissed, turning around and about to walk away with the metallic container on his arm before Vance decided to utter:

"Asskisser."

Gian immediately paused, face coloring like an intensely boiled lobster. "You son of a—"

Uh oh.

Gian dropped the tray, turned around, grabbed a chunk of the squishy thing he could lay his hands on, and hurled it towards them. "Bitch!"

King sharply gasped. Not a moment too late, he ducked, letting the triple-layered chocolate mousse cake rocket towards the boy behind him. The cake splatted and welcomed itself onto Vance's face before slipping down as a messy patch on the floor.

"You—" Vance's body slowly trembled, like a volcano about to erupt. And he did. "You fucking son of a bitch!" he roared, hurling his plate back.

---

Oh, it's on.

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