I lean back in my chair, watching the casino floor through the one way mirror. I built the back room of The Blue Moon to ensure I would have a good view of what’s going on in the hub of the place.

I have a set of monitors on the other side of the room so I can watch each individual table if I want to, but sometimes I like to look at the scene as a whole, get a feel for the vibe of the night and any hint of something off.

The whole picture is often more telling than any individual detail. I've predicted more than one fight or incident of cheating simply based on the feel of the place on any given night.

But tonight…everything looks pretty damn standard tonight. I almost wish there was something more for me to do. Restlessness runs through me, nibbling at my edges.

I turn my attention to the dealers. I just recently upgraded them to the more realistic models with better artificial intelligence. So far, they seem to be working out just fine. I watch as one of the pretty androids smiles at a member and deals the cards in a blur of motion, her exposed mechanical bottom-half moving silently from patron to patron.

With the addition of better human interaction coupled with speed, accuracy, and efficiency of the machine, I've increased revenue by a significant amount. The members of Moon appreciate the practical efficiency of the androids, but one can't get around the human desire to look at a pretty face.

A pretty face that knows how to flirt.

People are basic at our cores. No matter how evolved we may say we are, our primal urges still affect our everyday decision making. And I'm happy to take advantage of that fact. I make sure I create an environment that projects money and class, while also whispering to that animal inside all of us.

Humans and Singarti alike, though ours may be stronger.

The dealers, the atmosphere created by the dark wood and dim lighting, the exclusivity of the club—all reasons why membership is so sought after. And why this particular business is so lucrative for me.

Usually, I amuse myself thoroughly watching my private casino club's patrons flirt and lose their money, while keeping an eye out for any potential problems. I can predict behavior for the most part, but even I'm surprised sometimes.

Keeps things interesting.

But tonight, I'm too distracted to really let any of this reach me. I can't seem to get the confrontation with Adir out of my head. I frown, looking away from the smoke filled interior of the club as I think back to what happened. What's been happening.

Adir's slow but inexorable slide came on incrementally. So gradually that Herne and I didn't even realize it until recently. But the beginnings of a snout, the denser hair growth, the elongated ears, his increasing inability to control his inner beast… He's getting dangerously close to going feral and I’m more than a little guilty for not noticing sooner, not trying to get to him sooner.

I rub my face roughly. I probably shouldn't have ribbed him about taking the brunette females at the cotillion, but I didn’t realize exactly how far he's slipped. How even a harmless joke like that could set him off, engage his beast so thoroughly. That he would actually physically attack me over what was obviously meant as a joking shot at his preference for that particular type of woman.

He didn't used to be like this. He could volley back insults and jokes with the best of them, not letting anything really get to him. He's different. And the fact that he refuses to acknowledge the obvious signs that his inner beast is taking over is concerning. Very concerning.

Only he can really do anything about controlling or reversing the progression, the downward slide of his beast starting to take over. We can talk until we're blue in the face, but neither Herne or I can do anything unless Adir decides he needs to address the matter.

The whole thing is eye opening and a primal reminder of my own need to control my Wolf. I haven't really thought about myself for a long time. This’s probably exactly how Adir has ended up in the state he's in now. In fact, it's forcing me to take a long, hard look at myself. Check in with my inner avarice, look at my own decisions and actions.

I'm not as far gone as Adir, yet, but I'm not as in control as Herne either. I like to indulge, perhaps a little too much. The women, the money, the strokes to my ego. I have many vices, all of them entertaining. And I really thought I was beating the system, having my cake and eating it too. Indulging myself well also keeping a tight reign on my wolf. But…

But perhaps I'm slipping as well.

I rub at the heavy stubble on my face even though I only shaved a few hours ago. The signs of my inner animal are there, though not as intense yet. But I definitely need to watch myself.

I look over as the door opens and Ryan, the security at the door, lets two red-heads inside with a knowing look at me. My employees know what I gravitate towards and often try to find it for me. Something I usually appreciate but I guess tonight is a night where usually just doesn't apply. All I feel is a sense of irritation and obligation at their appearance. I smile automatically at the skimpily dressed human females, their tight, glittery dresses barely covering their asses. Dressed for attention.

They giggle as they sway over, not drunk, but not completely sober. Alcohol or a hit of something that exchanges hands in the dark corners of the club. I keep a close eye on those under the table transactions, though I don't have security get involved unless it looks like someone might be hurt. It's people's business what they want to put in their own bodies.

"Hello there, Prince Zane," the first girl says in a sultry voice as she runs a finger down the side of my neck, her overly glossed lips parting in a smile, her eyes calculating. Someone used to getting her way using what nature and the plastic surgeon gave her.

I'm not the right mark for that kind of gamble.

"Up for some fun?" her friend asks, coming up on my other side, her hand going to my arm and squeezing my bicep, making sure to bend over enough that I tell she isn't wearing a bra.

Blatant and shameless. Not something I'm generally opposed to. I should be taking them up on their offers. They're serving themselves up on a platter, easy pickings. I could dive right in and have a nice time, see them off without a promise for more.

But…they leave me cold.

There's no game, no conquest, no satisfaction in corrupting them. You can't corrupt those that who are already too far gone. They've already done a thorough job of doing it themselves. And that line of thought is just another sign of my own loss of control, of my own slow slide into danger.

It's taking more and more to satisfy the wolf, to scratch that itch.

Lately, I find myself simply bored in the most debauched situations, thinking of other things. Like a drug addict who needs a larger and larger dose, chasing the high that seems to be increasingly elusive, increasingly farther away.

I'm in danger of slipping too far.

The inner feralness is in all of us, all of the Singarti, but most of society follows the generally accepted idea of moderation, of sedate, rigid rules to keep the animal weak and buried. Easily controlled and dismissed, not a problem in everyday life. Indulging my wolf only makes it stronger. Everything has a price, a price that must be paid, one way or another.

And I'm paying that price now.

"Thank you ladies," I murmur, standing and gently extricating myself from their grasping hands. "But I'm afraid I have another engagement to attend to."

I ignore their murmurs of disappointment as I walk to the door and catch Ryan's eye. He walks over, a questioning, confused look on his face.

"Please escort them to the floor," I murmur. "I'm sure there are more than a few patrons here willing to oblige them."

He nods, moving in past me. "Got it, boss." He approaches the women. "Ladies, if you'll follow me…" he starts.

I walk away, heading to the door that leads out to the alley on the side of the building. I need something else tonight, though I don't know what. Slipping into the alleyway, I walk fast, needing to get rid of some of this restlessness. This need to move, to be away.

My feet take me through the twists and turns around the area, as familiar to me as the back of my hand. I find myself wandering the streets at night more often than not these days. In search of… something.

Something to relieve the boredom.

Something to make me feel alive.

I ignore the holograms that pop up as I pass storefronts, advertising the latest gadget, the newest men's fashion. The marketers are getting better at scanning pedestrians and targeting them with more appropriate ads. I make a mental note to look into it. There might be money to be made, after all.

Eventually, I turn the corner and find myself on the corner where my loup-garou like to meet sometimes. And as luck would have it, the gang's all here today. I scan their faces as they turn to me, their wolf tattoos showing up even in the dim moonlight.

"Have any sport tonight?" I call out as I reach them.

Though my clothes are most likely much more expensive than theirs, I fit right in with my jeans, t-shirt, and leather jacket. Even with money, my tastes are usually pretty simple.

One of the men breaks away from the group and walks over. His long black hair and the scar running down the right side of his face, through his eye and down his cheek, make him easily identifiable.

"Slash," I greet him as he reaches me, giving him a hard hug and a slap on the back. "How's it going?"

"Good," he says, returning my greeting. "Don't have any plans yet, but we're about to head out. Look for some trouble." He grins, his teeth a flash of white in the darkness. "You're welcome to join us, of course."

It's as good of an offer as I'm going to get tonight.

"Let's go."