~

I was spending the wake festival with an old friend who served at the palace. The king was always a humble man, and Greg had been talking about my visit for sometime, so he wanted to meet me. I’d spent the night before drinking and smoking and rolling around like an idiot, and I was far from feeling well.

“Patt, this is Jim.” The king introduced up, "Jim, this is Pattka Grey"

I nodded my head, not paying much attention until the boy looked up at me. His blue eyes just grabbed my heart and shook it.

He nodded back, “I hear you killed the shadows dancers who were conspiring against us.”

I could tell by the blonde hair and pink skin that he was certainly not a Lupine. He was probably a shadow dancer himself. Not uncommon for a king to get the real thing just for his pleasure. The spite in his voice was also a dead give away. I can’t imagine how hard he was trying not to hit me.

“Yes.” I said, “With help from my pack, of course.”

He smirked, “Are you always a fighter?” There was the spite. Gentle, but it was there.

“Only when there’s a challenge worth the effort.”

The King cleared his throat, “I’m sorry to leave your conversation at that…” He turned to his dancer, “Jim, you can go back to the temple and finish your prayer. I need you to practice tonights temple dance.”

The dancer nodded, taking a step back. Not before he made sure I saw him lick his lips at me, however. His tall, lean figured arched into his turn, and his long blonde hair fell over his bare back.
As he walked back to his temple, his hips rocked in such a way, it seemed as though he was dancing just for me.

And really, I wasn’t thinking about it. I was right next to his master, the king, and my employer. There was no way my mind could form the image of him naked against a wall. Not in this situation.

Not naked against a wall, those loose robes just falling off his body.

Not naked against a wall, those loose robes just fall off his body, and my hands running through his golden hair –

“Grey, are you ready for the tour?” the King rolled across my fantasy, “I hope you don’t mind that I accompany you. I’m very interested in your work.”

I was so glad to be tired and hung over from the night before, or my fantasies would have been damn obvious.

“He’s a real shadow dancer, we’re lucky to have him.” He said, referring to Jim.

“It’s amazing.” I nodded. I knew it! I knew he was a real dancer, “Why is he here? Isn't it illegal to have true dancers now?”

“Born out of wedlock, apparently. Most of the bastard young are killed, he must have escaped. We found him about twelve years ago, wandering around the palace. He’d been killing the village’s chickens for years, and we’d always suspected a fox or something.” The King showed me through a large hall while he explained further.

“As for the law... I'm the King. I wasn't about to leave a child like that. They may kill their young, but I'm not nearly so cruel.”

Dancers were almost a currency back in the day. People traded them like cards. The term ‘dancer’ was a generalisation. The term came from shadow dancer, a race of people from the Umbra, or the shadow world. The first slaves were captured from there, hence the name dancer. As time went by, any weak enough lupine family were captured and distributed like pets, and enslaving a true dancer became illegal, as it often sparked violence.

Most dancers were sold to palaces for their entertainment, both carnal and not. If you were anyone of notable worth, you had a dancer, if not many. Usually one was your companion and followed you around to be your beacon of wealth. Any others were your servants. If a guest stayed with you, your dancers would give an example of their talent (whatever it may be - you'd fucking hope to go they were good at something). If they were any good, your guests would boast. If not, everyone would know.

“Grey, do you have your own dancer?”

“No. Unless they were to able to defend themselves against the shadow who follow me, I have a feeling they wouldn’t be dancing long if they were around me.”

The King chuckled, “You do travel a lot. You’ve built up quite a reputation without one, I’m sure you’ll be fine for as long as it takes you to settle down. Tales of bravery are attractive to young women, but scars certainly aren’t.”

“We’ll see.” I laughed. Even my king knew I was unmarried. I was 25, and without a ‘mate’, let alone a wife. Lupine society was very much built around procreation, and carrying on a lineage, a race. Having not fathered or even attempted to find someone who could carry on my name was very much looked down upon. It was lucky that I was a hunter. Clearly they’d just think me not having a wife would be a result of my dangerous lifestyle. Homosexuality wasn’t so much of a taboo, rather it was taboo among people of my age and sexual-reproductive prime. I didn’t have a wife because it was dangerous. I didn’t have a wife because I was gay.

We made it to the temple just as the sun had rolled back into the hills. The moon threw a blanket of frost over the city, and there were plenty of fires around. Flags hung at the entrance, with the lupine royal symbol on them, embossed in gold.

Societies rich and well know had begun arriving at the temple, along with their well dressed dancers. A dancer was your public face. You dressed them in lavish clothes and expensive jewellery. If you didn’t, it was assumed you couldn’t afford it.

The temple was a large stone hall, built over four hundred years ago to serve as a place of worship to the Umbra, the shadow world. Although the faith had drowned out many years ago, the sacred place was still a place of worship – though hardly holy. It was a worship to pleasure and entertainment, that which was provided by trained and dedicated dancers. This time, the term dancer was litteral. Scantly dressed men and women danced across the hall, some taking of their robes for a price, others allowing just a brief touch.

The king was seated at a low table, beckoning me to sit beside him. Several other men quickly joined us, each with their own dancer. It was a wonder the dancers could keep themselves standing with such elaborate headdresses and jewellery.

One of the men playfully slapped the low table, sliding a glass of rum to the King  “Cass – I can’t see Jim up there”

“He’ll be here soon.” The king replied,  “I can’t let you soak up all the glory with your beautiful Morinda.” He gestured to the woman sitting beside his friend.

She was decorated in a delicate spray of diamond dust, and silver chains formed an intricate pattern across her bare chest. She had the fake branding of a shadow dancer. A regular lupine dancer’s brands would heal pink, like a regular scar. A true shadow dancer would have grey scars. Only a committed dancer would have brands. The commitment would be made by the dancer’s owner, who would do the branding himself. Depending on how committed the dancer wanted to be would determine where the brand was and how big or elaborate. This dancer was clearly in love with her owner, having branding all over her body. She held his hand in such a way that it warned off anyone looking at her half naked body. I felt like I couldn’t want her.
She blushed, and tightened her grip on her owners hand. Clearly the king hadn’t sensed what I had. He looked upon her like he already had her in his grasp.

The tension was broken when a quiet drum sounded. Jim stood as a centrepiece to the entire hall, his body arched and moving provocatively with the beat. The beat grew louder, and so did the intensity of his movements. With each beat, the chains and beads fell against his body in a new way, wildly throwing light over his skin.
He danced his way over to the King, before falling into a conclusion, right beside Cass. Beside me. He smirked as a rabid applause filled the temple.

Cass looked displeased.

“I’m certain you could have done better.”

“I’m sorry” Jim didn’t sound sorry.

“I’ll be sleeping with Morinda tonight” He declared to the table. Jim’s face filled with disgust, “Harlin, if you’d agree.” He glanced at Morinda’s owner. He wasn’t asking, we all knew that.

The king stood up, and Morinda slowly found her feet. Harlin rose and kissed her on the cheek. He nodded at Cass and followed the two out of the temple, leaving two other men, their dancers, me… and Jim.

I swirled my wine, trying to avoid conversation with him. I didn’t want to talk to a shadow dancer. I killed them for a living, it wasn’t an ice breaker.

“Did you like my dance?” He was close to me, and his body was sweaty and alive with candlelight.

I nodded.

He rested his hand on my thigh, “I can dance again, if you’d like. Just for you.”

Refusing him was the plan. I thought about it and I clenched my fists ready to refuse. I looked up and found his eyes. His mouth was ready to smirk, and his hand moved up further. I wanted to refuse. And I did refuse… to refuse.

~

Jim’s quarters were elaborate and filled with lavish sculptures and hangings. His bed was velvet and fur, and on each table was a bottle of wine. I couldn’t believe this all belonged to a dancer.

He took my hand, pulling me over to his large bed. He poured me a glass of red wine and watched me take a sip.

“Do you like it?”

I nodded.

“Cass brings me wine each time he visits, but I hate the stuff.”

“Do you… like Cass?”

“He’s demanding.”

I nodded. I really didn’t know what else to ask or say.

 “You’re getting drunk, aren’t you?”

I expected a concerned or disappointed look on his face, but I was confronted with a childish smirk as he tapped his fingers on the arm rest of my chair.

“We aren’t usually allowed to have alcohol in the temple.”

I nodded, “For good reason.”

He studied me as I finished the glass, “You must be here to get drunk.”

“I’m not.”

“You must have had a lot back in the temple. You’re already halfway there.” He hummed as he spoke, “Drunk, I mean.”

“Why do you say that?”

“My hand has been on your crotch for the past five minutes, and you haven’t said a thing.”

“What am I supposed to say?” I looked down at his small hand as it rested between my legs. I raised an eyebrow, not really putting two and two together until he began to firmly massage where his hand lay. His big blue eyes closed for a moment, opening just as he lowered his brows and gave a delicious smirk.

“Depends… on what you want.” He told me.

He stood up, his hand still on my crotch, and sliding up and down my clothed erection. The other held him up as he bent down, cocking his head just that inch away. So close, I could barely focus on his eyes. The pendant around his neck rested on my chest as he leant closer. So close I could hear his breath, and feel his eyelashes against my cheek. I didn’t want to move.

He unbuckled my pants and immediately dropped to his knees. He flicked his tongue over the head of my cock and moaned loudly. Taking the whole length at once, he squeezed with his hand as he went up and down with his tongue. He moaned again, the sound driving me mad. He pushed me back onto the bed and straddled me. I could feel his bare skin under the robes, and didn’t have a moment before he lowered himself onto me. He was so tight that I lost my breath, gasping for air as he rose and fell. I pulled him down around me, harder with each moan he gave. He bit his lip and clawed into my chest.

“Fuck me from behind.”

I arched my back into the bed, and he rolled off. He sat up on all fours, his golden hair draper across his back. I pulled myself over to him, pushing myself into him as soon as I reach him. He grunted, falling onto his elbows as I quickened my pace. I brushed his hair out of my way as I ran my hands across the brands on his back.

The black symbol of the lupine royals.

I pushed him forward, jumping back off the bed. He lounged back, glaring at me with a vicious smirk.

“You’re committed.”

“To Cass” He confirmed.

“You… tricked me.”

“You kill my people. Don’t think I’ll let you just walk away if I have the chance to do something about it.” He  stood up on the bed, his robes falling back over his body, “I thought you were a fighter, Mr. Grey.”

“You can’t prove anything.”

“People saw us leave together, people saw us come back here.” He leant in close, “People heard me moan. You made sure of that, Mr Grey.”

“You little shit.”

“Cass will kill you, Pattka Grey. The king doesn’t like others to touch his things.”