Her lip quirked, and she gave him a full once over. "Is that what you call it?" she teased, and he knew she wasn't talking about the packing.
He allowed his eyes to linger as he took in her figure again, practically feeling his eyes darken beneath her banter. And then he leaned closer into her, nose whispering against her ear.
"Play the game, Lady Fyre, and you may find out exactly how thorough the two of us can be," he uttered.
Her eyes fluttered up at him when he pulled back, and he nearly hauled her to the top of the bar and took her right then. "Is it all a game to you, or is anything ever real?" she asked.
"Games can't be real?" he wondered.
"Are they?"
He considered her. "Everything I do is real," he said, voice a little softer than before. "I've lived through too many lies for my life to be anything other than this reality I've found myself in."
"Is that why you'll not be having more whiskey tonight?" she asked.
He smiled at the floor, the memory of what Katla had talked to him about coming to mind. "Maybe it's about time I let myself feel something more than what I've told myself I deserve for that night," he admitted.
For a moment, her gaze didn't move from his.
"Dorian—“
Laughter and a loud greeting interrupted whatever it was she was about to say. The man she'd been flirting with two weeks before was making his way towards them, stopping only to greet his friend who happened to be behind Reverie. He clapped his friend on the shoulder, and then he turned his attention to them. His hand wrapped behind Reverie as he spoke.
"Hello, beautiful," the Blackhand, Beron, said to Reverie. His lips brushed her cheek, and Dorian wasn't sure what his face was doing.
He nearly threw the cup Smyths had just given him.
"Beron," she smiled, wrapping her arm around her chest and bringing her cup to her lips. "You remember Dorian?" she asked him.
Beron straightened, obviously flexing his ample chest, brown eyes flickering over Dorian. "Prince," he said shortly.
"Beron," Dorian clenched. "How nice of you to wash the soot off your face before tangling with the rest of us."
"Surprised you're standing upright on your own," Beron said. "Where’s the Second? He's usually on your heels or his knees."
Dorian's brows elevated at the comment, and he almost laughed. "Yeah," Dorian scoffed. "He's good at it too. Perhaps you should give him a go. You might enjoy the pleasure of something more than your own hand."
Beron started to step forward, but Reverie pushed back on his chest, still staring at Dorian. He could see the bite back of amusement on her lips. The leer in her eyes. But Dorian didn't press it. He caught Hagen's gaze across the room, and he gave his friend a nod, holding up a singular finger to tell him he was coming.
Leveling up with Beron, shoulders rounding, chin rising, and Dorian's eyes flickered black. Beron took a step back, and Dorian grinned triumphantly. He glanced down to Reverie, and he gave her a wink beneath his unruly hair.
"Join the rest of us?" he asked her.
"I'll meet you over," she smiled.
And when she winked back at him, he had to force himself past Beron to his seat.
Hagen was watching and shaking his head when he made his way over. "Starting fights in my bar, mate?" he asked. "At least make sure Dag isn't drunk before you get into it with Beron. He's who you want on your side in the brawl."
Dorian grinned crookedly. "I think I'd rather have Katla."
Hagen clapped his shoulder, shaking him jovially. "Prince... You want them both."
Dorian laughed as he and Hagen crossed to the table where Katla, Dag, and the rest of their self-proclaimed 'gang' sat. Falke was still in town from Monsburne, insistent that the snows were too much for him to travel, but Dorian was sure it had something to do with the woman he'd been keeping on his arm for some time.
The drinking game was announced, and Dorian settled into the chair, leaning on one hand and laughing at the rest of them as they told their stories. He sipped his drink that night, not wishing to be hungover or careless before their big trip the next day. And every time Katla caught his gaze, she raised her own drink to him.
Dorian sat up once in a while, pretending to be stretching, but in reality, glancing to his left towards the bar to see if Reverie was still flirting with Beron. She met his eyes a few times, each time smirking his way. He couldn't decide if she was flirting with him or Beron more despite her standing beside the gruff man.
