Dyson woke in increments of pain. He became aware of his body like a ER doctor performs triage; the worst cases got his attention first. The gash on his head was by far the worst.- it felt as if his very skull was being split in two. With his brain screaming in agony and it took a few minutes of breathing to get it to all dull roar. His back ached- why? No, not his back…it was his arms, his shoulders, his wrists- oh, there it was. He was on his knees but his hands were shackled and secured above his head. He gave them a yank. No good.

The iron cuffs that bit into his raw skin were ice cold and no doubt enchanted to keep him from shifting.

How long had he been hanging there?

And where was…his eyes shot open.

"Kenzi."

"Not here I'm afraid." A smooth voice replied without hesitation. He looked around. He was in a dark room lined with stone. Torches lined the walls every few feet, casting eery shadows around the mostly empty room. Immediately to Dyson's right was a large table. A man stood before it, his back to Dyson. He was looking into a huge gilt mirror. At least, he thought it was a mirror. But it did not reflect the room, rather a live action image of a darker haired women. Her head was resting on window, and looking closer he could make out that she was fast asleep on what looked like a Greyhound bus.

He blinked and refocused on the man.

"Where is she?" He asked, meaning Kenzi. He didn't know the woman in the mirror and he didn't really care. He needed to know is Kenzi was safe, where he was and who had kidnapped him- in that order.

"Tell me!" He barked after a moments silence.

"You mean the human I suppose?" Asked the man, utterly unaffected by Dyson's fury.

"Yes. The human. Kenzi." The man turned from the mirror at last and faced him. He was average height, well built. Dark hair and strong, regal features that remained passive when he spoke. What was really striking about him though were his eyes. They were the eyes that belonged to a man who had seen everything, all the wonders of the world- had probably seen the dawn of time itself- and had, after so many years of seeing so much, grown quite tired. So he stopped seeing, and remained content with just looking.

He carried himself in a similar manner. A king who had grown bored of power, took his commanding presence for granted yet did not expect to lose any respect in spite of that. Dyson hated him instantly.

"Fascinating creatures, werewolves." The man began, not sounding fascinated in the slightest. "Beasts who dilude themselves into thinking that because they can assume the shame of a civilized being that they are civilized themselves. But you and I know better don't we." He paced in front of Dyson, fixed those ancient eyes on him as if to study a painting or work of art that he found maybe a little less dull than the rest of the world, but still not interesting enough to give his full attention to.

"They, like all animals are slaves to their baser instincts. The need to hunt, to kill…and more redeemably, the need to protect what is theirs." He glanced back at the mirror, a look almost like sadness crossing his face. "Believe it or not I share this passion with your kind. That's how all this started you know. I'm simply a man trying to get back what is his. Trying to get back my little girl."

"So you're the one behind it then. You're the one who changed things." It wasn't a question, and the man didn't take it as one.

"Changed things?" He chuckled, resumed his pacing. "Well I supposed that is one way of putting it. Technically speaking I created an alternate timeline. Not an easy thing to do mind you…" He touched a hand to his chest, just below his throat. Dyson caught a glimpse of something- it was nearly impossible to see in this light but it seemed that there was something hanging from his neck on a gold chain. But as quickly as he had registered it's presence the man had turned away again to continue his unbroken pace.

"Even the smallest changes take more power than you could even fathom. And the farther in the past the event is, the higher the price. To stop her mother from taking her from me in the first place…" He sighed bitterly. "Well, let us just say that there are some prices even I am unable to pay. Thus, the adjustment had to be more recent. Smaller. One little misplaced aluminum can and I could set my Isabeau on a path that would lead her straight toward me, and away from the bad influences like you and that annoying slip of a human you call a mate."

Now by this point Dyson was quite tired of the man's lecturing. He had no idea what any of this meant- aluminum cans and alternate time lines and the path of a woman he had allegedly had a bad influence on (in a life he had no memory of living no less)- so most of what was being explained went over his head.

But that didn't.

Mate. The word echoed in his mind, louder and louder, making his throat clench and his stomach drop.

Because the man was talking about Kenzi. Implying- no, outright stating that Kenzi was…

But of course she was. He was an idiot for not seeing it sooner. From the moment they had met he had fought tooth and nail to protect her, swooning over her scent like a lovesick puppy. Because she was his mate.

The man was ignorant of his revolution; he kept speaking, assuming any audience put before his glorious form would listen with rapt attention.

"In fact you should be thanking me. Had I not altered the course of things the way I did you would have met Isabeau first and fallen in love with her. But you needn't blame yourself- succubi are impossible to resist. And I do speak from experience on that matter." His mouth tugged into a devilish smirk. "It wasn't your fault little Mackenzie failed to get your attention. After all, once you have seen the sun, the light from a candle would no doubt be…insufficient."

Dyson growled. The man's smirk grew.

"And really it is quite adorable the way you fight for her. It's almost a shame you'll never be together."

"And why's that? You have your precious daughter- why bother killing us?"

"The ritual I performed was a complex one." He said with thinly veiled pride. "Until it is completed the timeline will be unstable. This reality is not yet permanent, but once my daughter kills you it shall be." Dyson's confusion must have shown on his face because the man sighed wearily, as if having to explain a very simple concept to a particularly dim child. But his next words were not contemptuous. Rather, they dripped with accusation and envy. "You were the first Fae she trusted. You introduced her to our world, and to herself. You protected her, won her heart. You were there for her then- but I am here for her now."

"And Kenzi? What about her?"

"She is Isabeau's weakness. Her…compassion for humanity. It's understandable of course, that she grew attached to the wretched species that raised her, but that attachment must be eradicated."

"So you send assassins to do your dirty work."

"Oh make no mistake wolf, I would have taken great pleasure in watching my little girl slaughter you both- but I couldn't take the chance. I know she will not kill a human in could blood…at least, not yet."

"Except your plan didn't work. Kenzi's alive."

"A temporary setback I assure you." The man replied icily."I suspect she is already planning a daring rescue for her beloved mutt. And if not, my valkerie will bring her here by force and then I will figure out what sort of protective enchantment the Blood King no doubt put on her, remove it, and kill her. I admit it has been centuries since I have taken a human life myself, but I trust I can rise to the occasion."

"I'll die before I let you touch her." He said softly.

"My poor, foolish beast." The man said with a light chuckle. "You won't have a choice."