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for a man like this one, and it wouldn't be the first time she had done so.
    She approached the prince almost coyly. "It's a pleasure to meet you, my lord." The girl was not beautiful, not like Rayne, but neither was she entirely homely. She knew how to flirt in a crude way. She tossed her mussed dark hair, and smiled—forgetting the tear tracks and smudges of dirt on her face—and thrust out her chest to show off her wares.
    "Would you sit on my knee?" Ciro asked, patting the knee in question.
    "Of course, my lord." The girl perched prettily on Ciro's knee, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "What is it you desire of me, Prince Ciro?"
    Ciro had likely never been subtle, and in his new state all semblance of patience and princely comportment had been dismissed. He thrust his hand between the girl's legs and rubbed hard. Without so much as a word of protest, or a moment of pretending to be a demure lady, she closed her eyes and rocked against that hand. She spread her legs and shifted so that the prince touched her where she wanted to be touched.
    Fynnian watched, a silent observer. Neither of the participants in this groping encounter paid him any mind, so he was free to watch. Not only to watch, but to study Ciro's moves, the expressions on the boy's face, the way his breathing changed as the girl moaned and thrust her bosoms close to his face.
    "I want your body and your soul," Ciro whispered.
    The girl smiled, and reached down to caress the prince's erection through the tight crimson trousers he wore. Her fingers trailed there lightly for a moment, and then she stroked hard and bold, much as he stroked her.
    "Body and soul, you shall have them both, my lord."
    "Freely given?"
    She gasped in pleasure as his stroke grew harder. "Very freely."
    "Thank you," Ciro whispered.
    The prince placed his mouth against the girl's throat, and while he continued to stroke between her thin thighs, he broke the tender flesh at her neck, feeding greedily on her blood and on the soul she had so foolishly given him. Ciro slurped and grunted as he fed, moaning like a man in the throes of passion.
    Thanks to her enchantment, by the time the poor girl realized that something was wrong, it was too late. She was weakened by loss of blood, and Ciro was much stronger than he had been when he'd first invited her to sit on his knee. She struggled to get away, but the prince held her fast and attempted to fill his own eternal emptiness with someone else's soul.
    Fynnian knew that it would work for a while, but eventually Ciro would be hungry again. Soon he would be strong enough to take a soul without permission, and when that happened… when that happened, there would be no turning back for Ciro, and together he and Fynnian would be unstoppable.
    After the girl was dead and her soul had been emptied into Ciro's body, the prince continued to fondle her with one hand while he gnawed upon her ruined throat with leisure. Fynnian was both fascinated and repelled by the sight. When the transformation was complete, would Ciro be more beast than man? Or would he be entirely beast?
    Finally, Ciro allowed the husk of the girl to drop to the floor. She landed there limp and forgotten.
    "Thank you," Ciro said, sated and appearing quite sleepy. With the back of his hand, he wiped away the few drops of blood that stained his lips. In the early days his feedings had been quite messy, but he had become much more adept at the ritual. "I feel better."
    "Of course you do."
    When the Isen Demon stole a living man's soul, the resulting hunger was tremendous, or so Fynnian had heard. The ancient writings which had led him to this place in time had been written more than a thousand years ago. It had been that long since the demon had risen. The soulless man would feed upon other souls endlessly, searching for relief, but the souls he ingested were never his to keep. The Isen Demon took them all eventually. The Isen Demon took the souls its vessel fed upon, and it became