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statement as a
personal threat. The strange reaction of her faithful sidekicks
made Morrigan wonder again just how much Tiarn could be trusted.
She also wondered why, when she wasn’t sure she could trust him,
she still felt the undeniable urge to wrap her arms around his neck
and kiss him.
    “If they stay here alone, they’ll definitely
get killed or at least sent to the pound,” Morrigan told him. “I
can’t let that happen. So, they’re coming. End of story.”
    Tiarn’s eyes flashed dangerously, and he
looked like he wanted to argue, but thought better of it. “Very
well, Princess. Bring your mongrel felines. Just keep in mind
Guardians and lycans do not mix well.”
    “Lycans?” Morrigan repeated.
    A sick feeling started to settle in her
stomach as the truth of his words sunk in. It all started to make
sense—his hairy arms and chest, his reaction to the cats, even his
earlier comment about smelling her out. Her dark knight had a much
darker side than she had ever seen in her dreams.
    “Why yes, Your Majesty. Did you not realize?
You are a witch and a sorceress. And I, your faithful traveling
companion, am a lycan—a werewolf.”

Chapter Six
    “Are you really a werewolf?” Morrigan asked
as she jogged to keep pace with Tiarn. “Or was that some kind of
strange joke?”
    Tiarn snorted, but he didn’t reply or even
glance in her direction. Apparently he was still pouting over the
fact the cats were coming with them. They trudged along behind
them, obediently following their master. They were no trouble
except for an occasional hiss in Tiarn’s direction.
    “Hello! I asked you a question.” Morrigan
huffed when she still got no reply. “I guess you’re not in the mood
to make conversation.”
    He was still silent, and she had pretty much
given up on getting an answer at all when he finally turned to her
with a tight frown and said, “Yes, Your Majesty. I really am a
werewolf. I hope that does not disturb you too much.” His frown
changed to a conspirative smile, and suddenly his teeth looked
remarkably like pointed fangs.
    Morrigan swallowed hard and tried her best to
sound nonchalant. “No, of course it doesn’t bother me. And I wish
you would stop calling me ‘your majesty’. Just plain Morrigan is
good enough for me.”
    “Is that an order, Princess?”
    Was he trying to be so annoying? Or did it
just come naturally to him?
    She crossed her arms. “Yeah, I guess it
is.”
    “Then, Morrigan it is.”
    They spent the next half hour traveling the
deserted back streets of the Maryland suburbs in total silence.
Eventually they crossed into the city of Baltimore where
skyscrapers lit the night sky and the hustle of foot traffic never
died out completely. They passed through the safety of the well-lit
and populated Inner Harbor. Along the way, pedestrians gave the
oddly dressed pair curious looks, but otherwise ignored them.
    Morrigan started to get nervous once they
found themselves in a much less savory part of town. Even the glow
of the tall buildings in the distance didn’t make her feel any less
secure. The houses lining the city streets were dingy at best, many
with bars across the windows. A few shady looking characters
watched them enter their turf with frowns of disapproval. The
tattooed men leaned against graffiti-covered walls while they
puffed on their cigarettes. One of them even had the nerve to
whistle and wink in her direction.
    Morrigan wasn’t sure what she was doing.
There she was, following a total stranger—a self-proclaimed
werewolf no less—through the back roads of the city to a yet
unknown location. The whole thing was making Morrigan more than a
little tense, and she felt the need to fill the silence with some
kind of conversation to keep her mind off her precarious
situation.
    “So, do you need to wait for a full moon to .
. . you know . . . transform?”
    It seemed like a logical question to ask when
making casual conversation with a lycan, but Tiarn turned to