Prin was alone. He wasn’t sure if it was still night or not night, or maybe something else entirely. Had Elwin said something about where he was going? Prin thought so, but couldn’t recall exactly what. The flames in his midsection made it difficult to concentrate and sleep was more of a twilight doze.

  What was that pounding? Lighter and less rhythmic than the one in his head.

  The door.

  Total disorientation set in as he opened his eyes and slowly sat up, every motion a fight against the lapping waves of pain. Some kind of room with a door, is where he was. Prin hoped that wasn’t Squeaks at the door. He had told Elwin to keep the boy away. As he had grown attached to him and . . . and that wouldn’t do at the moment.

  He could see well in the dim light that drifted around the porthole curtain. An unfamiliar room with two beds, two nightstands. The scrap of paper on the night stand could have been a note from Elwin, and his eyes ate at it, hungry for his handwriting. No, it was just a number, alone, and in an unfamiliar hand.

  Prin stumbled to his feet, almost tripping on the inexplicably looped bed sheet. He knew if he just let go, gave in, let him – it have free reign he would become more light on his feet right away. Capable. Strong. It was going to happen anyway, so why did he fight it?

  Prin groaned as he opened the door, his other hand trying to press some quietness into his unruly head. Why did he open it.

  “Oh! Excuse me. I’m sorry to bother you.” An unfamiliar young man, a boy really, stood in the doorway, his hand up, poised to knock again. “I almost hit you by mistake.”

  The boy was on the short side, with shiny black hair that fell around his ears in sheaths, like crow’s wings. His skin was the color of weak coffee and looked soft to the touch. His self-effacing grin showed perfect teeth.

  Was he a gift from Elwin?

  The pretty boy’s outfit was carefully curated, casually rich. White linen pants, and pink striped white shirt with a glittery array of diamond scatter pins on the collar. Prin had not realized he had learned so much about clothes from Aster, but he guessed some had sunk in.

  The thought of Aster snapped Prin out of his fugue for a moment. “Who are you?” Prin asked. “Did Elwin send you?”

  “I’m Kit. I’m looking for Elwin? Did – Is this his room? We met last night and he brought his sister away from the gambling parlor. Are you . . . also . . . related?” Kit put his hand out hesitantly to shake, but Prin ignored it.

  Prin struggled to comprehend what he was saying. If the intrusive thoughts weren’t noisy enough, the pain in his body had its own language. Things to say. Loudly.

  He remembered the random slip of paper on the nightstand. “Are you 613?”

  “That’s my room number, yes!” Kit said. “I thought maybe Elwin would want to come visit me . . . Never mind, I decided to just visit him instead. Maybe see if he wanted to get some breakfast together. You are welcome to join of course!” His eyes cast up and down Prin.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Prin panicked for a minute, wondering if he was naked, or covered in blood. He looked down at his patched and worn leggings and nightshirt. No, just ragged, like something the cat dragged in, as their nanny used to say.

  “Are you unwell?” Kit asked. His eyes were amber in the morning light. A kind wolf’s eyes. If there was any such thing.

  “Yes. But it’s okay.” Prin said. “So, Elwin sent you here, didn’t he?” He wondered why he was asking this, when he knew it didn’t track with what Kit had just been saying. Of course maybe he sent the boy here without letting him know he was being sent. Sneaky, sneaky, Elwin. Was this a bad wolf?

  “I – no. I came to find him.” The boy seemed startled, unnerved.

  Prin reached out for him, the tip of his fingers grazing his arm, feeling the tantalizing warmth of flesh underneath.

  Kit seemed to not know what to do, but he leaned back, away from the doorway.

  If Prin could just get him inside the room, without making him run away. He was more antelope than wolf cub now already. Anyone with instincts would run.

  “Do you want to come inside and wait for him?” Prin asked. He locked eyes with the boy, knowing that his had the pull of vortexes, the allure of deep water to a child who can’t swim.

  “Is your sister home?” Kit asked. His voice had gone calm, no trace of the bashful youth who had knocked on the door, his eyes sticky honey.

  Oh this would be even more fun than he had thought. Prin laughed, the sound raspy to his own ears, gods knew what it sounded like to others. “We don’t have a sister.”

  Kit tilted his head to the side. “I better let you rest then. We’ll get together some other time.” He took a further backwards step into the hallway.

  “No. Come in.” Prin insisted. He tried again to grab the boy’s arm, but this time he dodged away quickly.

  “I can’t.” Kit said. “Feel better soon.” He said quickly, before scurrying down the hall and away.

  Damn. You sure made a mess of that one. The voices said to Prin. You will just have to get better at this. There were other people watching us. Prin went back inside and closed the door. He had looked so good too, tender and delicious. . . But he was wily. We have to pick prey who are more na?ve. No, this one was fine. You just didn’t. Say. The. Right. Words.

  Prin set down on the edge of the bed, doubled up once more with punishing stomach pains. In a moment of clarity he realized, that’s what it was. Punishment.

  Why do I have to stay in the room and wait for someone to come along, like a spider in a web. It’s the easiest way for a top of the line predator.

  But it’s not the only way.

  *

  Elwin hated to leave Aster alone, although he was sure (fairly?) that she was in good hands with the cruise ship doctor. However bad her medical situation was at the moment, though, Elwin’s head was distracted by much more pressing concerns.

  As he walked back toward their room, he thought of how suddenly it seemed to come on. But, no, the truth was he hadn’t been paying enough attention. It had been a long time since Prin’s meal of the investigator, and he had probably been masking pain and illness for days now.

  They would just have to figure out something better than this. Some schedule, some timeline of feeding. Elwin shuddered. It wasn’t like either one of them wanted to admit this had to be a regular thing. A thing to be planned for like a teeth cleaning or a weekly trip to the market.

  Elwin passed the ship’s buffet and stopped to fill a to go container. He didn’t have much of an appetite himself at the moment, but hoped he could convince Prin to eat a little something to tide him over until . . . Until what?

  The real meal.

  Elwin hurried back to their room and fumbled with his key, only to find the door unlocked.

  “Prin?” He called, as he stepped into the room.

  But Prin wasn’t curled up in the bed as Elwin had expected. He wasn’t anywhere else in the small ship’s cabin. He wasn’t in the bathroom.

  Prin was gone.