Malice leans closer. “Because you refuse to tell me anything,” he growls over the table.
She leans forward too, drawn towards his fire. “I said I don’t trust you,” Aerin snipes right back.
“You can trust me,” Malice says softly, straightening up in his chair, pulling away from her.
It’s a stupid thing to say, really, but it sets Aerin up so nicely.
“Prove it,” she demands, arms folding over her chest as she too leans away, resting back against her chair.
Malice narrows his eyes. “How?”
“Bond with me.”
She watches as the color all but drains from Malice’s tanned skin. He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again.
“You’re insane,” is what he finally comes up with.
Aerin expects his resistance. Becoming bonded-mates is uncommon for a reason: binding means sacrificing individual magic. It’s almost never done, and when it is, it’s viewed as a grave mistake. But Aerin needs to be able to trust him, and nothing ties two creatures together like becoming bonded-mates. More than a partner or a friend, they become part of one another—wholly intertwined.
Malice scrubs his face with his hands, resting his elbows atop the chairback.
“Dragon-Fae don’t have bond-mates,” he says through his teeth.
Aerin doesn’t let her shock show, keeping her face neutral.AllFae are supposed to have bond-mates. They’re social creatures by nature, and the Fates weave bond-mates into Fae paths. At least, that’s what the fanatics believe. Aerin doesn’t much believe in the Fates. But she knows bond-mates are real. Is he lying? Or is this one of the Dragon-Fae’s well-kept secrets?
“All the better, then I won’t have a Core to explain myself to when you bind to me.” Aerin shrugs a shoulder.
“You can’t bond to someone who isn’t your bond-mate. Dragon-Fae don’t have bond-mates, ergo?—”
“Don’t‘ergo’me,” Aerin snaps, cutting him off. “You don’t need to be bond-mates for a blood-bond.”
If Aerin thought Malice looked pale before, he appears downright nauseous now. Blood-bonds are rare, an old magic that faded into obscurity when Altrios fell. Similar to Aerin’s blood-contract with her father this bond would require blood, intent, and Witch magic to form, and once formed, could be finicky, dangerous, unpredictable.
“Where the hell did you learn about blood-bonds?” Malice asks, shaking his head. “You know what, I actually don’t want to know. The answer is no, Aerin. And you’re ridiculous for even asking.”
Aerin’s memories take her to another Fae, a different rejection. The pain pulsing in her chest feels a hell of a lot like anger. She shoves back from the table, her chair clattering to the floor, causing the creatures around her to turn, look, whisper.
“Aerin—” there’s apology in his voice.
Her voice is vicious and cold when she says, “Don’t follow me.”
15
AERIN
After her reaction at the bakery, Aerin wants to see Malice snap. She wants him to unravel at her hands. To see what lies underneath the hard façade. To get her way. Aerin always gets what she wants, one way or another.
Aerin strides into her living room at exactly 10:30 p.m. It’s been three weeks since Malice was assigned to her, and never once has he followed her on a night out. Aerin is always giving him the slip. It clearly drives him wild, given the way he grinds his teeth, clasps his fists, and holds his wings so tight to his back they might snap the morning after.
Malice’s eyes are on a book he holds open with one hand. They flicker up, likely expecting her to be in sweatpants with her hair piled on top of her head, searching for a snack, like usual. His eyes flicker down and then immediately up again before he startles into a standing position, letting the book fall to the couch. A ripple of movement goes through his wings.
“I—You—” He snaps his mouth shut, his blue eyes carefully assessing her. She is not wearing sweatpants but rather a tiny, tight, black dress. Malice has a hard time pulling his eyes from the swells of her breasts spilling from the neckline. He drags hisgaze down her bare legs to her heels before panning back up to the curve of her hips.
Finally, his eyes make it back to hers. He flinches when he finds her looking directly back at him. Aerin doesn’t allow their gaze to remain locked for long, lest those searing blue eyes see something she doesn’t want him to.
She says nothing as she moves to the door and walks out of it, listening as he scrambles off behind her. She manages to get half a block away before Malice’s wing beats move the air around her, landing just behind her on the sidewalk.
Aerin lured him out, now it’s time to play.
