Long ago, before anyone's grandfather could remember, there had been a war, between wolves and men. The wolves won, not only because they were stronger, faster, and more cunning, but because they did not betray their own kind, as did the men.
After the war, a peace was settled, so that man and wolf might live in unity, but only a wolf was allowed to hold the throne, because humans were easily corrupted, and could not be trusted with government.
Hundreds of years passed, and times changed. Things were forgotten, even by the long-lived wolves. A young wolf rose to the throne, and he was the best king the land had known for many centuries. He ruled generously and well, and was loved by his people. By his side he kept a human lover, and for many years they were happy.
But the Wolf-King found out that his lover had betrayed him, and he flew into a rage. "O, that I should have forgotten what my forefathers warned: humans are evil, lying betrayers. I was a fool to have loved one."
So did he have his lover put to death.
After that, the Wolf-King was changed. Wrathful and temperamental, he sent out a command that the humans would provide to him each day a virgin youth or maiden to be his mate for the night, and in the morning they were put to death.
Every night, the screams could be heard echoing for miles around the castle.
*
Shay pushed his way into the room, bickering with and shoving past any guard who tried to stop him. The night's sacrifice was in tears, mewling piteously, with long wailing sobs.
"Oh, god's fur, you're going to present that to his majesty?" Shay snaps.
The courtier overseeing the girl's preparations looks up. "Who are you?"
Shay lifts his head proudly. "I am Sharizade. You're going to present me to the king in her place."
"Just like that? This can't be done, you aren't sanctioned. I don't know who you think you are."
"What choice do you have?" Shay indicates the girl, who might've been pretty under the tears, but now merely looks ghoulish. "Let the King decide, if he'll have me."
The courtier nods. "We'll have to hurry, then. Strip."
*
Shay refuses make-up, even threatens to bite the cosmetic artists when they try to insist, so it is in the simplest of white ceremonial dresses that Shay is escorted into the court, his shoulder-length chestnut hair tucked with demure white blossoms. As the veils are drawn aside, he drops respectfully to his knees, but then raises his eyes boldly to gaze at the king.
The king's most respected advisor—a human, who has earned his position owing to his having wisdom and honor to match any wolf—leaps to his feet. "Shay!"
The Wolf-King turns to his advisor, puzzled. "You know this boy?"
"Your majesty," the advisor drops to his knees. "From my long years of loyal service, I crave your indulgence. This boy is my only son. I know he was not the one chosen to be your companion tonight, I have seen the girl chosen with mine own eyes."
"My worthy father," Shay interrupts. "And O, most beloved sovereign, I beg your indulgences." Shay stands, a proud, exotic beauty with dazzling gold eyes, tall and lithe, graceful in form, with broad shoulders and narrow hips. "It is true, I was not the one chosen for you. The maiden was, however, ill-disposed, and I begged to be given the honor in her place."
"You stand before me of your own free will?" The Wolf-King rumbles, intrigued.
"I do." Shay holds the King's gaze without fear or hesitation.
"My liege!" The advisor begs. "My son is not well, he knows not what he does! I beg you, I am an old man, my boy is all I have. Do not take him from me."
The Wolf-King rumbles, pacing forward. "It is an interesting dilemma you present, boy. What is your name?"
Shay is tall, for a human, but the Wolf towers over him by almost a foot. "Sharizade," he replies, voice raised only enough for the King's ears to hear, regardless of the entire court.
"And you know, Sharizade, that to be my companion tonight means to die tomorrow?"
"I am willing, my lord, to take that risk."
The Wolf stands close, challenging, demanding, and his breath is warm on Shay's neck. He studies Shay at a proximity that would make a normal man stammer with terror. Although he can sense Shay's heartbeat quicken a step, the youth shows no other signs of fear. His eyes do not leave the Wolf's face, and their gaze promises desire, and devotion. The Wolf has never seen such eyes, nor such depths of emotion, and he has never felt such lust as he feels for this strange reckless boy with eyes like the harvest moon.
"Why?" The Wolf asks, and he can hear the boy's breath catch, before he replies.
"I am of age, my liege, and I could desire no greater honor, than to lay down my body and my life for your majesty's pleasure."
The Wolf-King considers, brushing the soft pads of his fingers across Shay's cheek. The youth closes his eyes, turning his head into the touch, regardless of protocol, and kisses the Wolf's palm. When his eyes open again, there is a soft blush on his cheeks, and his gaze is deeper, smoky—sensual.
The Wolf turns, hand still on Shay's cheek, to regard his advisor. "For someone so clearly unwell in the brain, your son is undeniably convincing that he knows exactly what he does, my friend."
The advisor's eyes linger over the pair, distressed. "Your majesty."
The Wolf turns back to Shay, clearly enthralled by him. "But the youth is of age, and not only eligible, but willing. His paw slides lower, caressing Shay's throat. The motion elicits a delicious shudder from the boy. "I will mate with him tonight. I cannot resist so exceptional a gift, when it is freely offered. But because I so value your friendship, I will show mercy. Your son may choose his own fate, on the morrow. Is this acceptable?"
The advisor looks down as he nods, heartbroken in the apparent loss of his son. "Yes, your majesty."
Letting go of Shay, the Wolf-King returns to his throne. "Take him to my chambers."
*
Shay looks out the window at the darkening sky.
"It is usually an hour before he will hence, lambling," the old maidservant says.
"Yes," Shay nods. "I know."