Nikolai

The kingdom of Lunaria rose like a shadow against the horizon, spires of black stone stabbing at the sky. The air itself changed, losing the familiar scent of pine and wolf for the cloying sweetness of exotic blooms and the underlying tang of human industry.

I sat stiffly in the opulent SUV, my gaze sweeping over the manicured lawns and gleaming white spires of the palace. It was a pretty cage, a display of wealth meant to impress and intimidate.

And there was King Cyrus.

The ...