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for
nothing, nothing but humiliation.  Her pride was stung. “You could have gotten
loose at any time, couldn’t you?” she demanded furiously.
                He smiled at her
and strode from the room.
                She wished she’d
had something to throw.
     
    * * * *
     
                Raphael summoned
Arion with the Flow.  A current of thought known to beastmen, the Flow was
necessary to them for communicating when they shifted, for they could not talk
while they were in animal form.  Though it did not work over vast distances, it
was invaluable to their way of life.  Raphael used it now rather than wasting
precious time locating his second in command.
                He was in the
great hall when Arion found him.  Seated on the mantiam throne, he was staring
pensively into the darkness, troubled by his reaction to the human woman. 
Never had he been so tempted to break old laws.  And yet, he was disturbed to
find the urge within himself to do so, particularly since he was no youngster,
but a man full grown and aware of the consequences of doing so.  His friend,
Blasien had done so--he’d nearly lost his woman because of it.
                Arion bowed
deeply with respect and straightened.  “I felt your call, my lord.  What is it
you wish of me?”
                Raphael stood and
descended the wide steps to stand beside Arion.  They were of an equal height
and look, much as all the hunters were ... dark haired and animalistic, wild as
the humans would say.  Arion, unlike the elders now gone, had supported his
rise as leader of the hunters.  He trusted Arion as he would a brother.  “The
pack is restless.  The scent of new prey drives them mad with the blood lust.” 
Their disquiet rippled through his mind.  Violence and passion were easily
read, and the growing danger disturbed him.
                Now that he’d had
the woman, he could easily understand their provocation.  Her scent clung to
his skin, fueling his own lust.  Already he hardened, thinking of driving into
her again.  He’d taken her once, and still his appetite was unsated.  If
anything, burying himself in her body only seemed to have magnified his desire
tenfold.  Angrily, he pushed the madness back, tempered it with resolve.  Even
to consider touching her again was beyond foolhardy.  It was dangerous to both
of them.
                Arion nodded. 
“Yes.  They cannot help but be so driven.”  He paused, looked his lord and
master over as if weighing the wisdom of saying more.  Finally, he said, “She
cannot stay, else she will be devoured alive.  Their restraint is not as it
should be.  I fear much blood will be spilled along our borders if e’er any
cross.”
                Arion saw the
root of any problem, much as he, himself. Raphael clasped Arion’s shoulder.  It
was more affection than hunters usually showed one another, but he and Arion
had shared much in the past.  And he was leaving a heavy burden for Arion to
bear alone.  Unfortunately, there was no alternative to the decision he had
made.  “I know.  I leave the pack to you until my return.  I trust you, Arion. 
Not merely as my second, but as a friend and brother.”
                Arion nodded once
more, clasped Raphael’s arm in return.  “It means much to me, old friend.  I’ll
not fail you.  I will await your return.”
                Raphael dropped
his arm and walked down the centerway with Arion at his side.  Avonleigh lay
just beyond the Northern border of Shadowmere.  Although many leagues distant,
it was still a land easily reached without overwhelming hardship.  The night
was young.   However, they needed to begin their journey to Avonleigh soon if
they expected to cross any measurable distance in the darkness that remained. 
He did not relish the trek or breaking the pact, but he’d made her a promise. 
He would see her