(Paris is in fact a creation of SK, I think his first appearance was in 'unleash the night' - Wren's book. However if you don't believe me check him out on the DH website - trust me he's cute!)

Paris Sebastienne flashed himself to Neratiti, the mysterious island that floated off the shores of Australia, unheard of and uninhabited except for one person. Savitar. Now that guy was one truly freaky individual. No one knew exactly what Savitar was only that he was a being with unrivalled, immeasurable power, as a testament to the kind of power Savitar possessed he was feared and revered by all were-hunters, which was not an easy feat. He was leader and referee of the Omegrion, which was the all ruling council of were-hunters and if you wanted to open a Limani; he was the guy you had to get the thumbs up from. Running a Limani was nothing short of suicidal to Paris's point of view, and Savitar, renowned for his ruthlessness and lack of compassion and mercy was quick to deny the honour to anyone whom he deemed unworthy. By opening a Limani you set down roots which was something Paris had never done, no place had ever felt right enough for him to consider spending the rest of his days and though by no means a young cub anymore, the thought of being in one place for the rest of his life gave him the eebies.

He stepped further into a large circular room that was decorated in burgundy and gold, the heels of his scuffed biker boots clicking on the black marble floor while his golden eyes behind his dark sunglasses took in the ceiling to floor windows that spanned the room and were open letting in the sight and sound of the surf, with intense sunlight shining through making the gilded ceiling sparkle.

The room was lushly decorated and in the centre of the room was a large circular table and to the side, up high like a lifeguards tower was Savitar's throne, where he sat playing mediator.

The mysterious king of weird hadn't arrived yet and sparsely scattered about the chamber were some of his Katagaria Brethren, Paris gave a wry smirk to note that after all this time still no Arcadian dared to turn up on his own. They arrived in a huge pack all at once, afraid of facing their animal cousins. Paris had no time for Arcadian's and though he played nice with them here, because Savitar would fry his Litarian ass to cinders and the neutrality rule notwithstanding, if he met one of them outside this enchanted island they would die by his hands. Or be maimed for the rest of their lives.

He had been pronounced a slayer since birth and knew no other way of life then that of rogue and runaway, since most of his pride had been killed off over the centuries by insane Sentinels and as Katagaria lions it was in their nature to exile males once they reach maturity, he had taken to life on the road, with only his Harley and Ax for company.

Who, incidentally, he had left in a rundown, side of the road bar in Arizona somewhere, Ax was currently going by the second of his three titles he had given himself (Trey), gods knew why. And he was making time with a gorgeous, pouty brunette who had Paris's name all over her until he got the call to bring his furry hide to this place. Paris let a hiss of irritation escape through his teeth and allowed his eyes scan the crowd, a few more Katagaria faces flashed in and that completed the whole set bar two, Nicolette Peltier, the Ursulan rep and Lysander Stephanos, the Tigarian rep. Lysander wasn't conspicuous in his lateness, he lived completely by his own rules and was very much a loner, like most tigers.

Nope, no Arcadians, he thought, not counting Vane Kattalakis who was the Arcadian Lykos rep, but everyone knew his story and no one would dare challenge him for being here, if they did, Paris thought with a grin, they had to contend with not only Vane's power as Sentinel and Aristos but his brother Fury. When it came to fighting there were few better then that psychotic wolf. Besides that the wolf was extremely popular among the Katagaria community. Paris felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise and his whole body grew still, his lion heart growling as someone stalked up behind him.

Paris spun round just in time to catch Dante before the Panther pounced, Paris snarled and threw the panther laughing from him.

"You piece of shit!" Paris growled but smiling openly as he extended his hand towards Dante Pontis. "How's life, panther?"

Addressing a were-hunter by his animal form was a sign of respect and most Katagaria preferred to be referred to as such. Dante inclined his head.

"Life's looking better everyday," he replied with a self-satisfied shrug and grin, Paris raised an eyebrow, what was it with Weres as soon as they were mated they walked around like they owned the world?

Paris couldn't see how being tied to the same woman for the rest of your life could do that, but he just guessed it was one of those - 'you have to experience it to find the humour in it' things.

"How's your mate?" Paris asked out of genuine curiosity. He knew that Dante, a fierce hater of Arcadians, was mated to an Arcadian pantheress. Dante however just grinned even wider.

"She's fine, we just dropped a litter so she's a little tired, but she's happy and she has her sister around so it helps."

"Mixed?" Paris had to ask and he watched Dante grow still as if readying for a fight.

"Yeah. Eldest was Arcadian and the rest were Katagaria."

"Gonna be tough on him being the only one," Paris observed sombrely, feeling something kin to sympathy for the little human boy having to grow up in the midst of his animal brothers. He may have no love for Arcadians but as far as he was concerned a child was a child, race, creed and colour goes out the window when it comes to babies.

"He'll do fine, he won't be treated any different. He'll be loved like the rest."

Dante said it casually though there was an underlying threat of violence as though he were daring Paris to deny it. But Paris nodded and smiled, "Still feel sorry for the poor little bastard, having you for a father and all."

Dante gave a wry grin and jerked a shoulder, "yeah, me too."

"So you know why we been called?" Dante asked.

"Yeah, one of the lion prides are bringing a case against a psychotic cub," Paris said with a shrug.

"Trelosa?

"Apparently."

As the Katagaria Litarian rep, he knew a little more about the situation then most but he was still unsure of who the accused was and who was bringing the charges. Plus Paris never took his role as rep. to seriously.

A flash in the centre of the room drew their attention and both Weres stood agape as a Arcadian lioness stood in the middle of her Katagaria cousins, her face cool and uncaring that she had literally thrown herself into the lions den. No pun intended, Paris thought to himself as he surveyed her with a dark smirk. Dante's black eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline as he watched her saunter with a self-possessed grace and self-confidence that was hard to come by and was innate rather then learnt, to the right side of the table and take her seat.

Damn! Was the last word that entered his mind before it sizzled out of action like an electric appliance breaking down after an overload.

"Well, that's something you don't see everyday," Paris heard himself say, then heard Dante's murmur of shocked agreement and a low appreciative whistle next to them.

"I'll say," the Drakos rep, Darion said, his eyes raking her figure and then clucked his tongue as she turned to seat herself coolly at the table, looking at nothing yet taking in everything.

For some reason he didn't like the thought of the dragon looking at the young lioness like that, perhaps it was simply because he was dragon and subconsciously he realised that that was kind of racist but he didn't give a shit.

"She's new," Paris said frowning.

"She's brave," Dante said rather admiringly.

"She's fucking sexy," Darion said and looked as if he was a man spying his first meal after a months long fasting. Paris cleared his throat, he was irritated at the Drakos and was irritated at himself that he was irritated. It wasn't as if he had any designs on her … even without being Arcadian she wasn't his type. He liked brunettes like the hotty back at the bar, this one was a blond like him.

She was tall and made even taller by the heels she had on her sedate black pumps, she looked like an executive manager of some fancy business, though with some details that put unwanted fantasies in Paris's mind. Her black satin pencil skirt stopped just above her knee to reveal an expanse of toned, honey coloured flesh of her shapely, feminine carves and strong looking ankles as if she ran regularly. He had noted that she had women's black braces clipped to her skirt but were criss-crossed over her ass as if she merely put them there for decoration rather then use, in Paris's mind he had an image of her tumbling wantonly upon a desk while a man, any man, him … ripped at her clothes and in her haste to get her clothes on once that little afternoon delight was over, she had forgotten to pull them up.

Paris admitted that the straps of the braces weren't noticeable unless you were gawking her ass, his gaze strayed up and he lost the need to breathe. Her flared hips that were emphasised appreciatively by her skirt connected to a tucked in waist encased in a red silk blouse, it was low enough to show a hint of teasing cleavage but high enough to drive you mad wanting more, over this she had on, and Paris thought it a sin really, covering such a nice body up, a sexy little black business jacket. Her whole outfit was designed to accentuate her amazing body in all the right places. The woman had more curves then a road map and everyone was designed to drive men wild and what was even worse adding to his desire was that by her scent alone, that reached him across the floor, Paris knew she wasn't mated. Under that light flowery perfume she wore that was just subtle enough to be tempting and just heavy enough to draw you in as she walked past, he knew she was single.

Paris licked his lips, tipped his shades down the bridge of his nose to get a better look at her, her dark blonde hair divided on a side parting was drawn back into a severe looking bun at the base of her neck. Dainty studs glinted in her ears, a thin chain at her neck and a light mask of make up covered her face but not so heavy as to detract from her obvious natural beauty.

The woman knew the art of subtly and finesse, she had grace and elegance that bled from her very pores, was made all the more sexy by the fact that it was a birthright rather then something meticulously taught and remembered. Paris's only complaint was her face was set in such a cold and stern way that it didn't do justice to that soft wonderful skin tone, her eyes a wide, bright blue were like chips of ice from the coldest glacier.

"If she weren't Arcadian I'd go give her the pleasure," Darion said and when he turned to see both Paris and Dante looking at him with sardonically raised eyebrows, he put his hands up unconsciously in surrender. "of my company! Geeesh, get your minds out the gutter!"

"You should go over there anyway," Dante said casually, still he hadn't taken his eyes off of the cool, blond beauty.

"Why?" both Darion and Paris asked frowning.

"Because she might be your mate." Dante said with finality and Darion looked at the woman with obvious interest again, a fire lighting behind his eyes, Paris opened his mouth panicked trying to stall him.

"She's a lion - your dragon - its unlikely you'll be mated! Think of your kids!"

Darion smiled but before he could say anything more the rest of the Arcadian reps flashed themselves into the chamber along with the two missing Katagaria ones, followed instantaneously by Savitar. As well as not knowing what Savitar was in cosmic terms, his race was indefinable also, he could be accused of being Asian, Italian, Spanish, Arab, he was a hard one to place and Paris had long since given up trying. His long, dark brown hair swung lightly about his broad shoulders, his black eyes were always alight with mocking and bitingly sarcastic wit, he had a neatly trimmed goatee and swaggered his way through the crowd of animals, confident in his six feet of pure power to protect him from any adversary; Paris couldn't blame him. He was dressed in a long dark flowing robe, that looked ancient Egyptian in design and his huge feet were bare.

"Animals, people," he said walking through them with his arms extended at either side, no one mistook this as a gesture of warmth and welcome, he sat upon his throne with a resigned sigh and before he spoke again he grinned at Dante. "Cop a squat."

Paris laughed when he saw the Panthers teeth go on edge and as he sat Paris heard Dante muttering darkly to himself.

" … Hate that saying … knows I hate that."

"Shut up grumbling, panther," Savitar said easily and watched the rest of the weres take their seats around the table. Paris's eyes involuntarily shifted to his right back to the lioness already seated, there was only a chair between them, Paris's heart jumped. And angry with himself he gritted his teeth intent on ignoring her. Paris looked determinedly at Savitar and noticed with a curling feeling of dread that the all powerful being was reading his mind from the dark quirk in his lips and glint in his eyes. Paris shifted uncomfortably and hoped to Artemis, Savitar needed to surf real bad and didn't have time to waste on him. But that ominous feeling did not go away and Savitar huffed out a quiet laugh and opened the council of Omegrion.

"There's no point of going through the litany, we all know why we're here, or we will in a second," he turned to pin his stare on a lion standing to the side of Savitar's throne. The lion was tall with light brown hair, he bowed his head respectfully to Savitar before he spoke.

"We are here to dispense justice upon a rabid lioness, she is caught in the throes of the trelosa and has attempted to kill many times. We thought it only fair that we bring her before the Omegrion."

As he said the last sentence he cast a murderous glare over his shoulder at a young lion who had stood unnoticed behind what was most definitely his father. The lion was young, Paris observed, but he could hold his own, evident by the glare he returned to his father. His father turned back to address the Omegrion.

"My son wished for her to tried fairly, we rely on your judgement."

"You have your doubts as to her guilt," Savitar addressed the son, he made it a statement not a question. The boy nodded, not censored by his father's quelling look.

"I do, my lord," the son answered, his tone was quiet, respectful, yet steady. "I do not believe she is lost to the trelosa, she has been left alone a long time, she is feral."

"She is a danger to everyone!" his father spat, Paris raised his eyebrow, he smelt a rat, a shifting to his right made him glance at his Arcadian rep counterpart. Apparently she thought along the same lines. "She nearly ripped her father's throat out!"

"Yet her father does not bring her here to be tried?" Savitar said and the man stood straighter.

"Yes he does."

Paris narrowed his eyes. "You are her father?" he said, a feeling of deep dislike for this lion growing within him.

"I am."

"Did she do this?" Paris looked past the father to the son, who hesitated before reluctantly nodding.

"Without provocation?" Nicolette Peltier asked, she also looked sceptical, she had once accused the young tiger Wren of being mad with the trelosa, he could understand why she would look closely before passing judgement.

"It seems so … but I was not there," the son hurriedly added, while his father growled.

"Bring her out we'll take care of a rabid Katagaria," Anelise Romano, the snow leopard rep, grinned evilly, "its what we're good at."

Immediately there was an outbreak of spitting, curses and growls from the Katagaria side, Paris again looked at the young lioness and saw she still sat coolly and calmly waiting for the noise to subside. She did not join her Arcadian brethren in their jibes and insults, this pleased him which in turn irritated him. Savitar yawned widely and then raised a lazy hand and silence descended once more, Paris curled his lip as he watched Anelise grin with the Arcadian next to her.

"Bring in the accused," Savitar's voice rang through the chamber and both father and son bowed and flashed out of the chamber only to reappear second later with two more lions and a lioness, all holding on to chains securing a writhing young lioness in the middle of their circle.

It was easy to determine that the accused lioness was only barely out of puberty, she had not even acquired the skill to remain in human form, it was impossible for any young were to retain their human form in the daylight hours as it was for Arcadians to use their animal form. Paris however was not looking at the lioness, who certainly looked mad by the way she swiped and growled and ripped at her chain. Paris's eyes were fixed on the blond woman who at seeing the lioness had made an involuntary gesture as if to get up out of her seat but stopped herself in time.

"She is mad you see!" her father demanded, "she must be put out of her misery!"

Paris felt a vicious growl rumble in his throat but suppressed it, his fists clenched and unclenched as he eyed the cuts marring the lioness's fur, the congealed blood.

"This is a Katagaria problem," Darion's voice spoke from the other side of the table, "she cannot be judged by Arcadians, they will not try her fairly."

The animals cheered in agreement while the humans objected angrily, all except the blond lioness who merely looked up at Savitar, with polite interest. The noise level rose to an unbelievable high and Paris felt the urge to roar his distress as his sensitive ears felt like they were bleeding under the scathing decibels.

Savitar stroked his goatee thoughtfully and a loud bang that resounded form the very walls punctured the noise and it slowly descended like air being let gradually out of a balloon.

"How do you wish her executed?" Savitar asked her father who beamed unabashedly at Savitar.

"No!" A furious shout sounded close to Paris, her firm, clear voice stopped all shuffling and muttering, it rendered everyone within hearing distance completely still, made shivers fly up Paris's spine. He deliberately rubbed the skin on the back of his hand that had bobbled with goose bumps from the sound of her melodic accent, all eyes narrowed on the young woman. Savitar grinned and waved his hand signalling her to speak.

"This lioness is not effected by the trelosa," the lioness rep. said her voice barely trembling with nerves, she flashed herself into the centre near the said lioness that had gone surprisingly still.

"How would you know human!" the father spat, using the word human like a curse and the young woman turned to face him fully, a strange look past over his face as if he were searching his memory banks in effort to find her face.

"Who is she that dares to interfere?" the Katagaria jaguar snarled, raking his offended gaze over the blonde. Paris was impressed by her, more then he would ever let on, she merely raised a cool eyebrow and turned the full force of her stare upon him, she looked like a professor conducting a seminar or an executive addressing her board members. Again the image of a afternoon rumble over her desk entered his mind. "She is not even Katagaria!"