“I am not a slave!” She growled through clenched teeth.  This was all part of the plan for him, she assumed.  Break down her defenses piece by piece until she revealed something useful.  Deep down, she wanted to believe the witches were waiting outside the door, clawing at the chance that Vara might reveal something important.  Yet, she could not smell them.  In fact, this place smelled nothing like the lands the witches held.  It lacked the perfume of incense and oil, the clean and sturdy smell of crystals.  She had heard that the witches deemed some wolves dark, as if they were born with a taint to them.  Most were gathered up by Blackvayne and kept under his rule.  This man seemed to have evaded that fate.<br/><br/>“Valvoline?”  She questioned.  If it was pertinent information, it was not something that was shared with her.  Again, a voice nagged at the back of her head, but this time it was not just her own voice.  It was her wolf, that instinctual part of her that she could not drown out with logic or emotion.  Vara did not think she was a pawn, but that did not mean she was not a piece to be played.  Surely Blackvayne had some angle on this.  A reason for putting her in this position.<br/><br/>“I would not presume to tell you to serve him, nor do I think he would take you.  You’re far too mouthy.  He likes his wolves loyal and...quiet.”  She shrugged and she was immediately reminded of her chains, the pain seared her mind as the silver burned her flesh until she adjusted again.  Vara pressed her eyes closed and opened them again.  “Water.  Just water...”<br/><br/>She peered up at him with ocean-like eyes.  “Blackvayne is not perfect, I’m am not some idiot blood bag who thinks he’s a deity or some other farce...but he protects what is his, and the humans on his lands are treated with respect.”  She did not believe the witches did so.  Vara heard the stories, the witches had killed thousands in their bid to protect the earth.  They had no love for mankind.