Kassan hated meetings.

  It didn’t matter that he had fought his way up the ranks, nor that he had earned his importance in the Nightlord’s inner circle. He was still forced to sit like a child and listen to the ramblings of those who didn’t care. They didn’t truly care, Kassan was sure of it – they spoke and analysed for the sake of being employed, and that was the end.

  Megie sat next to him, and judging by the vacant look in her eyes, Kassan suspected she shared the same sentiment. Indeed, when he nudged her, the selkie blinked blearily, before slipping into a daze once more. When Megie wasn’t maintaining relations with the Sea-Fae, she was on land, forced into the same meetings as Kassan was.

  Today, however, was special. Today they entertained the Lord of Starroam, a place Kassan had been only mildly aware until a fortnight ago, when the newspapers rolled in. With Megie as a seal, he’d read it by himself, alone in the training room. And the headlines were, to put it bluntly, stunning.

  But it was good Mr. Harvino was gone. Kassan never liked him.

  A foreign Lord sat at the opposite head to the Nightlord, who Kassan served. So far, neither had truly adressed each other, and they’d communicated in skewed glances and raised eyebrows. If the treaty between Nightland and Starroam would work, there would have to be far more cooperation. Kassan squeezed Megie once. Not looking good.

  Megie squeezed back twice. Let me sleep, dumbass.

  While a Starroamian diplomat went over the Treaty terms for the third time, Kassan found himself in a sluggish state. His hand went to touch the tattoo behind his ear, the one his morion-black hair covered. A crescent moon and four stars, where the moon identified him as a Night Court member, and the stars showed his rank – four stars, fourth in command. Megie was the Nightlord’s fifth. Across Kassan sat Gabriella, a beautiful, slender seer who was the Nightlord’s equal – and mate. While the Nightlord had a full moon on his neck, Gabriella sported a half-moon and a sun. Partnership. Love.

  When he pinched his tattoo, he felt a little more alive for a second. Hopefully that counted for something.

  Silence finally fell upon the meeting room; all eyes fixated on the two Lords in the room. Everybody else – even Megie – seemed slightly uncomfortable with the amount of power emanating from the both of them. Two Lords in a room had historically ended in disaster – and as the highest-ranking warrior in the Nightlord’s army, perhaps Kassan should have been paying more attention.

  Their magic did not affect Kassan, however. Werewolves, after isolating themselves from Fae community for so long, found no intimidation in power – only smell.

  Kassan pressed his tongue against his teeth, preventing his canines from slipping out.

  Finally, the Nightlord leaned back, his glittering eyes set on his rival. “This treaty helps Starroam more than it helps Nightland. You are aware of this?”

  The Lord of Starroam leaned forward, his long, plaited beard brushing the table. “You may see it that way. I see it another. The combining of the produce from our shared fields may profit us in terms of the food we have, but it will profit you in the reduction of conflict. If I remember right,” the Lord scoffed, “you have been paying the most for mini-farmer wars.”

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  “That your own farmers start.”

  “That your own farmers start by trespassing on Starroamian land. Take the treaty and combine our produce. Then-”

  “To order another Lord in his own territory is quite brave, Lord Kavesh.”

  “To interrupt another Lord while he is surrounded by his warriors is also brave, Lord Damien. Take the treaty.”

  Silence encroached upon the room once more. Gabriella fiddled with her bangles. There were far too many, but the Nightlord would have him executed if Kassan dared comment on the Nightlady’s style choices.

  “We will take the treaty,” Kassan’s lord drawled. “This meeting has dragged on for far too long. Next time, come alone to my land. The diplomats and warriors were unnecessary.”

  The half-ogres who sat next to the Lord of Starroam shifted in their seats, but their Lord simply smiled. “A piece of advice I will never follow. Good day.”

  Their visitors were out as quickly as they came, like shooting stars amidst the night. The Treaty, now inked with the Nightlord’s signature, was now important and something Kassan should probably care about – but he hadn’t trained all day, and he was in the vein to do something active. He made to leave when Sir. Nirven, the third in command, huffed.

  “My Lord. We ought to do something about Starroam’s clear disrespect towards us. If we do not war with them, then perhaps a sanction would be in place-”

  “How have they wronged us?” Kassan interjected. Sir. Nirven’s beetle-ish eyes turned on him, sending shivers down his spine.

  “This is not your business, child.” Sir. Nirven dismissed.

  The Nightlord sighed, as did Gabriella. Megie’s eyes opened a fraction wider, and Kassan leaned forward.

  “It very much is my business. If war is being discussed, I’m ninety percent sure that’s my domain.”

  And it was. Kassan was in charge of the foot armies and their progress. But Sir. Nirven struggled with the concept of a nineteen-year-old being capable, a concept Kassan never failed to challenge.

  Plus, Kassan had seen how Sir. Nirven eyed the maids when he thought nobody was looking. The man triggered all sorts of responses within the werewolf, and Kassan tensed as his canines dropped and claws jutted into the cushion of his chair.

  The Nightlord wasn’t in the mood. He brought a finger on the table, commanding silence. He remained staring at the seat where the Lord of Starroam had sat, then sighed softly. “We will not have any conflict with Starroam. They have not wronged us and any disrespect is not enough to consider war. We will end this meeting here and regroup if Sir. Nirven wishes to discuss this further-”

  “I do.” Sir. Nirven growled.

  “No, he doesn’t.” Kassan growled right back. Who the hell wanted to be locked in a meeting room for another five hours over a pointless topic?

  “But for now, you are all dismissed. Attend to your duties.”

  The inner circle rose, flooding out through the doors. Kassan let Sir. Nirven leave first, just in case the damned noble thought it would be funny to corner him as they left. When the room was near empty, he made to leave. Gabriella’s soft call stopped him.

  “Kassan.”

  “My lady?” the werewolf bit out. Megie hung around the door awkwardly, tugging at her robe.

  “Do not pick so many fights with Sir. Nirven.” Gabriella looked to him with that far-away, seer look in her eyes. “You may regret it.”

  Shut up, Kassan thought. “Of course,” Kassan said.

  With the final dismissal, he lightly stormed through the door, Megie half-jogging after him.

  “Hey! Hey, you imbecile – wait for me!”