They both knew but could not bear to speak it aloud. This disturbance to their paradise, the invaders that injured one of their pack and carried unnatural lights that only belonged in the heart of a home, it could only be for one of two things: the princess or the wolf. Perhaps they had followed him after his excursion in town, or someone knew the location of his sanctuary, or his behavior towards the woman with the secret papers had been so unnatural it had sparked an investigation, but no matter what had led them to his home, it would only be settled with grander blood than a forest wolf's. Currently it would seem as if he was torturing the missing princess, should anyone look through his windows and see her hunched and agonized by the fire, but if they had come in days before perhaps they had seen him wander the moonlit trees with the silver wolf. He had no idea how ignorant the village was to it; they could know that their princess was cursed or they could know she disappeared and the only trace was a wolf, or they could know absolutely nothing. He could not deduce from the muffled voices what their intent was. He felt an ominous fear in the pit of his stomach that took him back to a snowy day when he had taken up his father's bow and aimed it at a massive bear, but this time when he pushed it aside to find courage he was filled with something more ferocious, territorial. The next wolf they wounded would be him.

"I had always assumed," Lucina whispered so that the approaching crowd would not detect human voices from the cabin, "that this place was secret."

"So had I." His whisper was a roll of distant thunder, warning of the impending storm. "Whatever happens, stay here. I will manage this."

"I will not be useless again."

"No, you will be hidden. With luck, they will not notice you." As he reached for his ax and checked to ensure his knife was still strapped in its usual place, their eyes met briefly and he almost fell into the abyss of them, but he had a pack to defend. Only fallen alphas ignore a plight such as this, he reminded himself with bitter thoughts of his father. "Do not watch me. Hide, if you can, or at least keep to the shadows."

She nodded; he heard the rustle of her hair and dress like the bitterest winter wind in the trees. "Tell me all that you learn. And bring the hurt wolf inside."

"I will," he vowed simply in a voice that was steadily becoming grave and merciless. In one hand he gripped the ax and with the other he opened the door, detecting with his perceptive ears that Lucina had crept away from light and glass, so he felt as if every inkling of restraint within himself had also crawled back into the shadows, fear and sympathy alike. The weak torches from the invaders barely cast light to his trodden earth doorstep and gave him the advantage of suspense, and he closed the door behind himself while the ax seemed tense in his hand. He briefly examined his injured wolf, whose ragged breath and bloody coat only enraged him further, and then his attention fell on the foremost of the townsfolk. He raised his voice. "What business do you have out here?"

"You've been out here alone for quite some time, woodsman," the man replied with a twinge of fear in his words. Apparently he had not seen Priam in the flesh before and realized he was a massive beast. "After the other day in town, we thought it was time to make sure you aren't up to anything, and here you come armed to the teeth. Something to hide?"

He snorted and lowered the ax to bump rhythmically against his thigh. "I've lived out here a while. Seeing anything carrying fire out here makes me nervous. I think introductions would put me at ease, to avoid any issues later."

"You first. We've all heard plenty of stories, but your name is never part of them."

"Priam." He tilted his head up just a bit, feeling irritated and channeling that into arrogance. "Tell me your name before sunrise, please."

Though he struggled to hide it, this intruder was visibly nervous to be in the presence of this alleged beast man. He fumbled a bit with wordless sound before he finally proclaimed with certainty, "Morgan. My name is Morgan."

"Well, Morgan, what do you need from me?"

"You were in town the other day and took a paper from my friend. She was so worried about buying your silence she forgot to get the paper back. It's very important to us, and we wanted to know if you had... read it." He inhaled deeply, brandishing his torch ever so slightly like a sword of light raised against a dark adversary. "I do not know if you have met with anyone else concerning the information on that paper, but I am here to say that we could use any information you have."

"What sort of information is that?" He shifted his weight a bit so that he seemed to carry more on his shoulders and that made them look tense and stronger. A slim knot of worry was forming in his gut, intermingled with the fiery embers of territorial possession that he carried nearly constantly now. It was evident that this poor man-more of a boy, now that Priam's eyes had adjusted to see him better-had ventured into the woods because he was desperate, but as much as he felt compelled to help a wandering boy, his loyalty to the wolf girl hidden in his home was greater.

"Where the princess might be," Morgan replied, still bolstered by his torch and his safe position at the edge of the trees. "I was a... supporter of hers. My friends and I wish to restore her to the throne."

"Well, I'm sorry. I know nothing."

Morgan's face fell somewhat, and his torchlit face sunk back into shadows when he lowered the flames. "She was about my height, dark hair that hung past her shoulders, blue eyes."

"Is it possible she is dead?" Priam voiced confidently as if he believed the lies he was telling. He had never lied before, but what was the difference from normal talking? He knew humans were notorious for it, so he could do it as well as any of them. "She must have been missing for quite some time if you were willing to come all the way out here."

"I suppose, but all that we found of her was a torn nightgown. No blood, no body, and no ransom note." Memories flashed through Morgan's eyes, the painful kind that Priam had masterfully forgotten himself. "I had hope that she escaped."

More than anything he wanted this young man to leave his woods, return to the complicated and hurtful world of humans. It had hurt him as it had hurt Priam, and it was especially tragic that the princess herself was only separated from these allies by a door and a secret. Even though he had a shred of empathy for this man who had lost something precious, Morgan's loss meant very little to Priam. The man would have to deal with loss, as Priam did. "If you were smart, you would abandon hope for work and results."

"I know." Morgan swallowed and nodded, his face steeling. His companions, who had not left the security of the trees, began to march back through them, and Morgan hesitated a last moment. "If you do happen to see her, let her know her brother wants her back."

This came as a mild surprise, but Priam was too full of irritation and discomfort to truly realize what this may imply. "If her brother is alive, why is he not on the throne?"

Morgan had already turned his back, and his words were spoken to the woods. "She is the eldest and our father said she should rule. I have to honor those wishes."

"I see." Priam turned back to the wolves, reaching for the wounded one. Its companion backed off to allow this, and with the beast in his arms he returned to the cabin. Morgan and his torchlit companions were long gone into the night, and when he turned his gaze to the window of his own house he saw Lucina's glorious, lacrimal eyes, despondent from a pain he could not name but was certainly, in that moment, sharing.