Alex mused about the strangeness of the evening as he was on his way back to his suite. He should have been on his way to Lady Bethaeny's suite, but there had been a change of plans. Lady bitch and all of the others were cloistered in the Queen bitch's suite tonight. He hadn't heard the details, but someone had made a big mistake. He wondered who.

Lucky for him- one less night wasted on the bitches. Alexander DeSade was a Warlord Prince, for all the good that did him in Draega. For most males, very little made any difference in how they were treated. Life was miserable regardless of caste or Jewel rank. Miserable and short for anyone who got in Queen Meredith's way. Alex had only survived as long as he had because she considered him her greatest prize.

He supposed that he was. Being Hayllian, he'd inherited the golden eyes, raven hair and browned skin of that race. Every male in Meredith's court had that in common. But where they were handsome at best, Alex possessed a cold beauty that left women breathless. They were half-seduced even before he made a move or said a word. If he didn't keep the sexual pull natural to Warlord Princes leashed, he could seduce anyone he wanted- anyone. They were all drawn to him like moths to flame.

Extraordinary looks made a compelling case to set him apart from the rest of the Hayllian Blood; his Jewels reinforced that impression.

Darker than any others he'd seen in all of Draega- darker than even Meredith's. And that was before taking into consideration the ones he'd hidden from her. Alex never knew why he'd been gifted both the Red and the Ebon-ray at his Birthright ceremony, but even at that early age, he'd seen the wisdom in hiding the latter to only claim the Red to the bitch Queen. When he'd received another set of Jewels during his Offering, Alex chosen not to claim any of them at all, opting to reveal the Ebon-gray instead. The others he'd vanished and kept secret, hoping that someday he'd find a way to use them to break free of her control.

That had been well over three hundred years ago, and Alex had almost given up that he would ever see a day of freedom. Meredith and her coven bitches had torn that hope out of him a piece at a time. That and just about anything else that may have been human once. Six hundred soul-killing years of torture and abuse would do that to anyone. In his case, it had honed him into a beautiful and deadly predator that struck the unwary without mercy.

He wondered if Meredith ever wished she'd played her games a little more cautiously. She hadn't dared let any of her closest coven darlings use him in well over a century. A vicious smile lit his face as he remembered the last one who'd dared try it. That bitch had been a lesson to Meredith that she may have ringed him and caged him in her court, but he was far from under her control.

"I'm telling you, I saw it with my own eyes."

"But why?"

"No idea- just glad it wasn't me."

Alex watched two servants pass him on their way to their wing of the mansion. They didn't notice him, which wasn't a surprise. He was sight-shielded, ensuring that he wouldn't attract any attention. As far as witches went, he tolerated the servants more than any of the aristo bitches. Unless any of them did anything to deserve pain, he left them alone. Most of them did likewise, too afraid of what might happen if they tried to offer him anything more than polite distance.

He listened as these two continued to gossip, presumably about whomever had made the mistake of crossing Meredith.

"But she didn't do anything."

"Since when does that matter to any of them?"

"I know, I know," the one witch sighed. "But when it's something like this, it's never over nothing."

"I heard there was some commotion about a few of the warlords earlier who attacked one of the Ladies. Something to do with a Ring that wasn't working. You should have heard all the screaming she did when they got their hands on her. Maybe it has something to do with that."

Interesting. Alex continued to follow them at a distance while they talked. When he'd been dismissed earlier, his intention had been to seek refuge in his suite for the evening, but now he was too intrigued by whatever had gone on today. Meredith had kept him close all afternoon and evening, so he'd heard nothing about whatever happened with the warlords. No doubt she'd done that intentionally.

"Kareal, how could she have had anything to do with that?"

"You heard her last week. She said…"

"Shhhhh…don't even say it. You never know where one of them could be."

"What is the worst that could happen?"

"Grael gets three witches instead of one. That's what."

Grael. Alex despised the Warlord, but left him alive because he was a useful tool. Meredith considered him one of her pets, so witches who disappointed her were passed onto him. And in Alex's experience, most of those witches deserved a night with Grael. All bitches who only thought of themselves and their cruel games. He felt no loss in seeing them broken or worse the next day.

But every so often, Meredith turned him loose on one of the maids or some witch who'd done nothing other than get in her way. Alex felt a twinge of remorse when he did nothing to stop him those times. He'd told himself that he didn't get involved because Meredith would use it as a justification to make him suffer. Why allow her to torture him when all he'd accomplish was a delay of the inevitable? Nothing more than a pointless gesture. If Grael didn't have the witch, Meredith would find some other way of punishing her.

So who had been sent to Grael tonight- coven bitch or a member of the staff? Judging by the conversation between Kareal and the other witch, he guessed it wasn't one of the former.

"You don't suppose he's going to do it in the servant's wing, do you Fawne?"

"Why?"

"I don't think I can go back there tonight if he's…I just can't listen to another one. He broke Lisbeth just the other day- and that was just because he wanted to."

Alex was beginning to suspect that more witches than he thought ended up in Grael's clutches. Maybe he'd outlived his usefulness and it was time the Warlord had an unfortunate 'accident'. Meredith might even suspect that her coven did it, in retaliation for the warlords' attack on one of them.

"Where do you plan on going instead, then?"

"Isn't there any place to hide?"

"Not likely, unless you'd rather take your chances with one of the other warlords."

"I'm not going to bed one of them just to avoid Grael. They might not break you on purpose, but they enjoy getting away with doing things the aristos would punish them for."

"Some of them aren't so bad, Kareal."

"Name one."

"Paeter isn't like that."

"How would you know?"

Fawne hesitated, and Alex saw her blush in the dim hallway lighting. The other witch must have seen it, too.

"You're lovers, aren't you?"

"Only for a few weeks. It's not easy because he's one of Kaeremi's favorites. But we make things work with what little time he has."

Her speech caught Alex by surprise. He knew of the Warlord they were discussing, although not very well. Paeter was one of the mid-level pleasure slaves. Their paths had crossed a handful of times since his arrival nearly two decades ago. And while he wasn't actively hostile towards the witches, Paeter had seen his share of misery from the bitch Queen and her coven. How he could turn around and call any witch his lover after that was something Alex couldn't reconcile.

Nor was it a topic he could bring up with the other pleasure slaves in the hall. They might talk about it amongst themselves quietly, but not around him. Or anything else, for that matter. Alex was too different from them to share any sort of confidences. While his temperament, status and Jewels guaranteed that the coven bitches feared him, it also cut him off from anyone of his own gender. Most times, he preferred the isolation, but it was moments like this when he wondered what he was missing.

While he'd been thinking, Kareal was obviously having second thoughts about her earlier comment. She dithered for a moment or two before finally asking, "Would he…know of anyone else who might be of a similar mind?"

"I dunno. He might."

"Then I'm thinking maybe I ought to risk it. I don't want to chance running into Grael. He's the most cold-hearted bastard in Draega."

"I could think of worse," Fawne replied.

"No one is worse than Grael."

"You're forgetting the Prince." Although Draega didn't have many Princes left- and almost no Warlord Princes at all- witches only meant one person when using that particular tone in their voice. They always meant him. Alex knew he wouldn't like what he was about to hear next. "I've heard what he's done to witches. Even if they control the Ring."

Kareal shivered and closed her eyes.

"Don't, Fawne. I don't want to hear."

"Nothing left of the last one- spattered all over the room, I heard."

"But…but he only goes after the aristos. I've never heard any stories about him and the likes of us."

"Doesn't mean it's not possible. He could make anyone disappear if he wanted to and what would the aristos care? One less witch to wash and fold linens."

"I…I don't want to think about it anymore."

Well, that told him what the Blood thought of him, didn't it? Even though he'd never done anything to Fawne or Kareal, they thought he was a monster worse than Grael. No doubt all of the staff in the hall thought the same. That's what Meredith and her coven had turned him into- all he'd ever be to them. A chill permeated the corridor, mirroring the rage that swept through him. Alex slipped his hands in his pockets and dropped the sight shield.

"If you were really that afraid, you'd be more careful about what you say in open hallways," he crooned at them.

Both witches whirled around, horrified that he'd appeared seemingly out of nowhere to overhear their conversation. They froze, unable to move when he turned his cold, golden gaze on them.

"It just so happens I have nothing to do tonight. Perhaps you would like me to find something to fill the hours until morning. After all, weren't you just saying that you wanted to find a place Grael wouldn't look for you?" After an enigmatic pause he added, "I can find a place like that."

Fawne found her voice first, but it wobbled as she spoke.

"N-no, Prince. No need t-to bother with us."

"Hmmm…I'm not sure I'm convinced."

Alex glided nearer to them, standing close enough that the hair on the back of Fawne's neck teased her skin when he breathed. She shivered in fear, and he smiled to himself while eyeing Kareal. She was shaking all over, hands clutching her skirts. He could let a sensual wave wash over both of them and they'd both be his. Alex thought of the games he could play with them- something to justify the stories the Blood were telling of him.

It would be all too easy to let himself go and follow that violent dance. Something in him resisted, knowing that doing so would kill what little honor remained in him. Did he care? As Alex hovered on the decision, a shout at the other end of the corridor snapped him to reality. He pulled himself back from the edge. Control. Focus. Leash the rage before it was too late. Turning towards the sounds, he stepped away from the witches. They scurried off the minute his back was turned. Alex hoped he never laid eyes on them again.

For now, he decided to pay a visit on the much talked of Grael. No doubt he was behind those shouts Alex was hearing. He and the witch Meredith had given him. So he followed the sounds of the struggle, which grew louder the closer he got to the servant wing.

His guess had been correct. Grael restrained a witch by her wrists while dragging her towards one of the hallway's cramped rooms. A few onlookers just stood by, watching grimly. None of them seemed inclined to do anything for the witch, though. Nor would he have expected them to, knowing what Meredith would do to them in exchange. As for her, she wasn't screaming or sobbing like he'd seen others do. Oh no, she was putting up a hell of a fight.

For a while, Alex merely observed the battle. He could easily walk away and let the Warlord claim his prize. She might not be one of the coven bitches, but that didn't mean she wasn't any better than them. And after hearing what the servants thought of him, Alex wasn't sure he cared what Grael did to any witch.

He was still riding too close to that side of his temper that usually promised pain to anyone who got in his way. The other witches and warlords eyed him nervously and melted away in the darkness. Just as well. No matter what he decided to do, this wouldn't end well for someone.

So who is it going to be?

"You can keep struggling all you want, bitch, but you'll be mine in the end," Grael grunted at her with a laugh. "I'm gonna make sure to take my time with you, too."

The witch didn't respond to the boast, more focused on the struggle to get away. Smart thinking. Until she lost the battle, they were just empty threats. Worrying about them only wasted the slim chance that she could get away. She was so intent on that goal that she hadn't even noticed him. Neither had Grael, in point of fact. He just might witness it all without either realizing they had an audience. Which made for an interesting thought. What games did the Warlord play with his prey?

Without warning, the witch whipped through a one-footed spin that knocked Grael off-balance and wrenched his arm painfully. He was forced to break his hold. Alex raised his eyebrows in surprise at her cunning and skill, wondering where she might have learned such a move. Grael, meanwhile, swore violently and snatched her up again.

"Think you're clever, don't you? Well, you won't be much of anything when I'm through with you."

To prove his point, he slammed her into the wall. As Grael pinned her roughly, he leaned in close. One hand reached up to grab a fistful of hair. The witch showed no reaction, so he taunted her again.

"Where should I start, bitch? You think you'll be so tough when you're strapped down, legs spread open. You'll cry and scream in the end- they all do."

This time, the witch twitched in his grasp. But try as she might, she couldn't break free. Alex felt something twist inside him and he knew now who was going to dance with his temper. No matter what the other two witches had said about him, he wasn't going to let this happen.

You're right, Grael- in the end, they all scream. Tonight, it'll be your turn.

The temperature of the hallway plummeted suddenly. Lilith's concentration broke for a second as she sensed a presence of someone else nearby. Grael paid no attention to the fact that they were no longer alone. Not surprising, since he was still amusing himself with giving her the lurid details of all the things he was going to do to her.

Lilith wasn't impressed, or intimidated in the least. Weaker witches would have been, but none of them could fight back. Unfortunately for Grael, she could. In fact, she'd been using the fight to her advantage. It kept him from noticing the death spell she'd been weaving around him. But evidently that had taken too long, because now someone else was here. And that someone was pissed.

Casting a quick glance around to see who'd stumbled this far into the servant wing, Lilith's eyes froze on the shadowy figure only yards away.

No…oh no it can't be. She looked away and back, hoping her eyes had been playing tricks. They weren't. There he stood, a lethal mix of masculine beauty and feline predator. Not him. Anyone but him.

Alexander DeSade.

At first glance, he seemed casual- a bystander watching her plight without interest. Until she caught the glazed, cold expression in his eyes. Mother Night, he was already riding the killing edge. That's when he chose to approach, every movement the graceful stalk of a predator. She was doomed. If she didn't get away now, she was doomed.

Panicked, she abandoned the unfinished death spell and sent a phantom spike heel through Grael's instep. As he cried out in surprise and lost his grip, Lilith took a chance and ran. She didn't look back to see if Grael would follow her. All thoughts were bent on escape as she scrambled her way through the warren of corridors.

A hideous scream erupted from the direction she'd come. The Prince had dealt with Grael himself. While she appreciated that at least that task had been taken care of, Lilith knew it would only make things worse. She had very little time to disappear before he came for her next. Chances were very good that he would. Lilith couldn't let that happen.

But as she ran, it became harder to keep focused. Lilith couldn't remember if she'd already been down this hallway, or which way she needed to go to escape from this wing. She turned a corner and let out a breathless shriek. He was there- blocking her way. Lilith slid to a stop and immediately took several steps backward. A Red shield pressed against her back. The Prince's expression was impassive as he looked at her.

"You might as well save yourself the trouble of running."

Although she didn't make any attempt to escape, she shuffled her feet. Just to do something. He must have noticed, and sighed.

"Grael isn't going to bother you again, witch."

"That is the least of my worries right now." Lilith broke eye contact as she muttered, "I've heard of you."

"I'm sure you have. What made you think you could run away?"

Lilith shrugged but didn't answer. She needed to move; standing still was torture. But the Prince continued to pin her in place, standing between her and the only way out of the hallway. Short of passing through the Red shield- which she couldn't afford to do right now- her options were severely limited.

"I know what you're running from."

Shit.

He must have picked through Grael's thoughts before he…well, she assumed the Prince killed him. That meant he knew what the Queens had done to her. And now he'd followed her. Not good. She had to get away. Now.