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Kirill's voice was hard. He brushed past her to the living room, leaning over to pick up his clothes from the floor. Under his breath she heard him mumble something about ripping out her bothersome throat to shut her up. She thought it better not to ask him to clarify the entire statement.
    "Sorry," she answered, rolling her eyes at his back and making a face. Going beside the bathroom he pushed a tile. When an opening appeared in the wall, he tossed the clothes inside and walked to the kitchen. The hole closed behind him.
    When he ignored her half-hearted apology, she followed him to the kitchen and demanded softly, "So, how do you get out of here?"
    "Do you ever quit talking?" he asked, seeming amused. "The morning is a time of silence and reflection of the day."
    The kitchen was constructed of industrial metal against stone. Despite the fact that they were in a castle, it was very modern. Ulyssa watched him open a cabinet and take out a bowl. She did her best not to smirk. Next, he grabbed a jar of milk from the fridge. She bit her lip to keep from laughing. Oh, it was just too easy--kitty cat with his bowl of cream. Unable to resist, she asked, "Having breakfast?"
    He shot her a puzzled frown. Ulyssa snorted as she tried not to laugh.
    "What's wrong with you now?" Kirill demanded. His brow furrowed.
    "Um, nothing," she managed, still struggling for control.
    "You are a strange one, aren't you? I don't suppose you escaped from the medical ward?"
    Ulyssa's expression fell.
    "Guess not," he answered for himself. Taking a metal container, he poured a powdery substance into it and then added the milk. He handed her the bowl. She stared at the gruel with a look of disgust. He put the milk away, grabbed a spoon, and thrust it into the bowl. "Here, eat. Then I will bring you back to the harem."
    Ulyssa's stomach growled, as if to answer for her. She was famished. Slowly lifting the spoon, she tested the mixture with the tip of her tongue. It tasted bland, like milky paste, so she braved a small bite.
    "It's only been one night of pairing," Kirill said, moving through the kitchen to the dim living room. He paused to stretch his arms over his head. "If you're lucky, some of the willing bachelors will still be without a mate."
    "Excuse me?" she choked, dropping the spoon into the bowl she carried with her. "What exactly is this pairing thing you want me to do?"
    "The Var bachelors come to woo the half-mates, at least those who haven't bore children to King Attor. Those who wish it will be married." Kirill stopped stretching and turned to study her.
    "Oh, no," Ulyssa said, shaking her head. "Not a chance in hell! King Attor is not pawning me off on some.…"
    His brow rose in warning, as if he could sense her coming insult. She choked it back with some effort. She wasn't use to curbing her tongue.
    ".…some man," she finished weakly.
    "You're right," Kirill said. "King Attor isn't. I am."
    "You? Who are you to decide my fate?" Ulyssa took a threatening step forward and scowled. "You're just some ... I don't know what you are. Some guard? What do you care if I marry?"
    Kirill's arms crossed over his sturdy chest in a very domineering manner. His head tilted arrogantly to the side. He said nothing.
    "Oh, I see. You're a guard and you've picked me to ... woo." Ulyssa sighed. "Listen, I'm really flattered, but I'm--"
    "I have no wish to mate," Kirill stated.
    "Oh, then I'm sure we can come to some sort of an arrangement." Ulyssa shot him her sweetest smile, letting her lashes flutter over her eyes. It was a look she saved for special occasions such as these. It was a look that men could not resist.
    Kirill's didn't move, except to blink, as he showed no masculine interest.
    "Fine," she grumbled. Snarling, her eyes rolled heavenward. "Listen. Let me be perfectly honest. I don't belong here. I don't want to get married and sweep up fur balls for the rest of my days. As you can see, I'd surely make any Var's life a living hell. I'm just not