Regan followed Cassian from the sentencing hall feeling the sizzle of witchcraft in her fingers. Training had its place, but there was nothing like letting someone feel the sting of witch magic—particularly one who deserved it. Fischer was such a one. Regan’s own sense of justice had fixed on him, and its black and white left little room for mercy or redemption.

But the room grew further and further away, and Regan’s thoughts shifted from Fischer back to Cassian. To be a royal guard was to watch the king through a window, day in and day out. You felt as though you knew him—his habits, his preferences, the mundanity of the royals' lives—when he knew you hardly at all. There was always that pane of glass separating you that made real closeness impossible.

Regan shook her head slightly as if to clear the thoughts from her head. As it should be she decided, as she tried to keep her eyes from the murmuring royals. Anything else would be absurd.

When Cassian nodded, Regan started to turn, believing she too was dismissed. But upon hearing her name, her eyes snapped to Cassian. She hurried to catch up, following his steps like an eager puppy.

Regan might have resembled a puppy in the way she hurried at Cassian's heels, but the king thought of her more like a loyal weapon. An embodied opportunity. A chance to pursue something he had not yet reached for.

They entered his office and he closed the door behind her. The conversation didn't wait for the desk and chairs, but started then.

"The position I intend to appoint you to," he picked up where they had left off days ago, so if she wasn't with it then she had better step quickly, "is one of my creating. I want to make you the King's Huntsman."

Huntsman.

Regan's eyes flashed, veins of hellhound fire rising before descending back into the inky darkness. She was hungry, both for the opportunity and for the hunt itself. The pursuit of Fischer had given her a taste of what things could be, and now she wanted more.

"Yes, sire." Regan struggled to contain her bursting smile, one that brightened her usual surly expression. "If I could -" Regan cleared her throat, reining in her excitement, "What would the position entail, exactly?"

Cassian expected nothing less. She wanted to hear the details and he was glad to relay them. There was a light in his eye as he spoke.

"It is as it sounds. You will hunt for me. Not for food, but for people. For information, when necessary. When you are not out on an assignment then you will be here, close to me. Your position will remain a military posting. When necessary, you will possess authority over soldiers and royal guards." He watched her closely, eager to observe exactly what she thought of that.

If she knew her military positions, she'd quickly realize that she was a form of a King's Witch...only with a more independent posting.

Regan had entirely lost hold of her spreading smile. Her eyes shone like a child getting the finest present they could hope to receive. For that’s what it was: everything she could hope for and more. But weeks ago, Regan had resigned herself to the fact her career as a soldier was over. And now this? The word gratitude fell entirely short.

“Yes, your majesty. I can, I —” She cleared her throat again, “Thank you, sire, for the opportunity. I won’t let you down.” Regan debated, opening and closing her mouth for a moment before deciding to chance another request. “If it’s possible, your majesty—if it’s not too much to ask—it would be helpful every once in a while to have time to train away from the palace and castle. Not long. Just somewhere I can, uh, burn.” Regan tucked her hands behind her back, starting to get a handle on her composure.

“If it’s possible, sire, I think it’d be worthwhile.”

Cassian almost smiled at seeing her smile. Almost. There was definitely something smiling on his face, but it wasn't his lips. It was his eyes. Not even a stranger to the man could miss it.

At the mention of training, Cassian clasped his hands behind his back and cut his eyes towards his window before returning them to her.

"There is another thing I wish to present to you." He'd wait, wanting her full attention for this.

And the smile in his eyes was enough.

Regan’s dogged pursuit of external validation had led her to accomplish great feats. Now, seeing the look in Cassian’s eyes, Regan’s hunger for service was more powerful than ever. She would be worthy. No matter what it took, she’d be what he needed her to be and more.

His answer to her question had Regan raising her eyebrows in curiosity, a smile still dancing on her lips. “Yes, sire?” She was practically vibrating with eager anticipation now, her little heart beating faster than it likely should be.

Cassian had never done this before. It was awkward, at least he felt so, and would surely present as odd. But here it was. He had given it much thought and knew that this was something he wanted to do.

"I want to make you a werewolf." He sounded about as smooth as a pimpled seventeen year old sounds asking a girl to prom.

Regan’s heart stopped. Whatever she was expecting, this offer hadn’t even made the list. For a moment, she stared at him, stunned and speechless. She thought about Grant, about the first time she shifted him, about how new and thrilling the power of the creature was. Then he thought of Alys and Cassian, about the control they had, even in a form that demanded chaos.

The next smile that cracked over her face was a wicked, very Regan grin, one that lit the veins of amber in her eyes.

"Absolutely brilliant." Her voice was almost playful, forgetting for a moment that this was the king and not a co-conspirator to some sort of fantastic, mischievous plot.

And there would be more moments than just this one when she forgot that he was king, for the choice to make Regan a werewolf was more than just a ploy to give her another advantageous form. It was an intimate invitation into a vulnerability that Cassian currently only shared with one other. It was a commitment, one that wasn't over this year, or the next, or anytime soon. This was forever on earth. This was to become a part of his pack. To run the moon at his side, hunt at his side. It grew his path, and therefore their strength, and it would bond her together with him and Alys in a way no human connection ever could.

This time his lips did smile, too.

Regan, who had the tendency to let her sentences run away with themselves, was temporarily at a loss for words. As Cassian smiled, she looked at him, starry-eyed, full of hope she hadn’t felt since Hadrian called Grant and her into his study to tell them about the ranger program. This was different, though. This was bigger. Enough to make Regan forget about losing her partnership to Grant and any misgivings she might have about her new position. This was where she was meant to be.

“So…” Regan rose on her toes then rocked back on her heels, still beaming, “When is this, uh, all gonna happen?” She bit her bottom lip, now not even trying to appear as anything other than beside herself with anticipation.

Her question was entirely appropriate. There was a process for all this, of course. To his shame, Cassian hadn't exactly planned the exact place and state of things for each part to take place. He hesitated, not stupidly, at least not visibly stupid, before speaking,

"I bite you, and then over the course of days...or hours...you change." The king's hazel gaze flickered to the ground for a breath as he thought about what he was saying. Then, "...only Alys has done this."

Regan watched the king carefully. For the first time, his eyes averted themselves instead of steadily holding their mark. Her brow furrowed for a moment before falling back to neutral, her smile softening into one a little less aggressive.

"I can do it. I want to," Regan affirmed as if there were any doubt. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, dark eyes bouncing between Cassian's. "Whenever you're ready, so am I."