Her jaw worked, grinding, but she didn’t deny it. She couldn’t. She knew.
“Why do you want to meet him?” she asked, in a tight voice.
I considered leaving her with nothing but silence. But then I let the truth drop, simple and heavy. “I need to warn him.”
“Cryptic,” she muttered.
My mouth curved with quiet amusement. “I trust you will be there, little errand girl?”
Her glare was sharp enough to cut steel. “And miss meeting you again?” she said in mocked horror, shaking her head.
I smiled, though inside the black snarled. She didn’t know it yet, but this little human spy was about to become far more than an errand girl.
TheWings and Tits.I picked it just to antagonize her. Why, I didn’t know. Maybe because her restrained fury in our last meeting had amused me more than I cared to admit. Maybe because a soldier-spy wrapped that tightly in control deserved to have her composure tested. Whatever the reason, I had chosen the sleaziest den of flesh and distraction the Pandraxians had to offer.
The place was as crude as its name promised. Neon haze, stale smoke, bodies pressed too close. Winged dancers twisted around poles in the main chamber, feathers glimmering in low light, while the clientele ogled with the hunger of predators who’d never been told no. I sat in a private room overlooking it all, the glass designed to see without being seen, and let the ugliness wash over me.
I leaned forward in the chair, watching the private dancer on the stage in front of me with deliberate hunger. My aura pulsed gold and black with every sway of her hips, but it took an effort to make it appear like I was enjoying the show. My thoughts were firmly with Ella. It wasn’t desire, not even close. It was theater. When Sloane Storm walked through that door, she’d find me playing the part of the arrogant bastard she believed me to be.
And right on time, the door slid open.
“You’re late,” I said without looking up, keeping my voice cold.
“Well, we didn’t exactly set a time,” she shot back, every word clipped with irritation.
I smirked faintly, still pretending to be more interestedin the dancer than her. But I caught the way she scanned the room, always assessing, always cautious. One-way windows. No extra exits. Ceiling unmarked. She was a sharp woman.
“She’s got to go,” Sloane said flatly, nodding at the dancer.
“Sorry, sweets,” I murmured, rising to my feet.
For the briefest second, I let her think I meanther. I felt the spike of her anger, sharp and satisfying. But then I turned to the dancer instead, offering a hand like some ridiculous gentleman. The female slid down the pole, and I kissed her hand, just to rile Sloane further. “You are a goddess,” I told the dancer, dismissing her with a lazy grin.
When I finally looked back at Sloane, her jaw was tight, her eyes flashing with barely contained fury. Perfect.
“Send him in, little errand girl,” I demanded haughtily.
The sharp retort on her tongue practically burned the air between us, but she swallowed it down. Another reason she amused me. Most would have tried to snarl back, but Sloane’s discipline was like bryx; she knew when and how to pick her battles.
She retreated without a word, slipping out like the dancer, and then Emperor Daryus entered. I straightened and turned my amusement into bryx. Games were for Sloane. With Daryus, it was time for war.
The private chamber sealed behind us, muting the noise of the strip club beyond. Daryus lowered his hood, and for the first time, I saw the Emperor of the Pandraxians.His gaze was sharp, his jaw set, and his aura flared with authority even without words.
“So,” he said, folding his hands behind his back. “The Arkhevari still walk.”
I leaned against the edge of the table, arms crossed, meeting his stare without flinching. “Legends die hard. We were never gone, Emperor. Only watching. Fighting where your kind could not.”
His eyes narrowed. “Why reveal yourself now?”
“Because the dark grows,” I answered simply. “The Dark Abyss is not passive. It births monsters. They gnaw at the seams of creation, clawing for a way through. My brothers and I have held them at bay for eons. But we are fewer, our strength has diminished. Without balance, without our Aelyth, even we will fall.”
Daryus’ expression flickered, just once. “Aelyth,” he echoed. “You lost soulmates, just like we lost ours.”
I inclined my head to acknowledge his point, even though he had no idea how close to home he hit. Both of our species lost our soulmates to pride and the never-ending search formore.
"We seeded the universe in search of it. We wove bloodlines, forged species, created the Pandraxians themselves as one of our experiments to find balance again.”
His jaw flexed. “You claim my people are your creation.”
