Malice is a sight to behold. Despite being Fae, he appears as a shifter would, half in his Dragon form. Another one of those well-kept Dragon-Fae secrets. His eyes are no longer blue, but a glowing orange, flames dancing inside of them. Gorgeous iridescent black scales run up his neck, his wings changed in color to match. His hands end in talons so large that Aerin has to cross her legs to ease the sudden ache that blooms inside of her. She bites her lip.
The Tiger half-shifts in response to Malice’s interruption. Orange and black stripes pop up over half his face and neck, his own claws forming at the tips of his fingers. Aerin was right—they are massive. But not as big as the Dragon’s talons.
Aerin looks back to Malice. He is the apex predator. He is so stunningly beautiful in his loss of control.
Gods, she’d let herself get slightly too inebriated for this. She needs to get a handle on them before someone gets hurt. The males are exchanging growls, beyond words now in a fight for dominance.
Silly males. They never understand Aerin willalwayswin a fight like this.
“Don’t hurt him, Malice,” Aerin snaps.
Malice does not listen. He lunges for the Tiger and the Tiger meets him blow for blow. They slam into one wall, then the other, before finding the floor, Malice with the upper hand.
“Enough!” Irritation burns in Aerin, her magic flaring. She relishes in them a little too much, the way she can wrap invisible binds around the males and keep them still. They way her magic is so muchmorethan simply changing her appearance for thirty minutes at a time.
Using those binds to pull them both to their feet, Aerin keeps their hands, and wings, pressed to their bodies. Both males snarl at each other.
“Enough. Shift back. Now,” Aerin demands. She reaches inside of them andpullstheir Fae forms forward. Both are ripped from their half-shifts, transforming before her, shirts torn, chests heaving. She doesn’t mean to, not really, but she’s inebriated and hasn’t accessed this much magic in so long it just happens.
“How the…” the Tiger mumbles, squirming against the invisible chains of Aerin’s magic, but it’s Malice who has her attention. He slides back to his Fae-like form slowly, as if his Dragon form is clinging to the shift. Once settled, he’s still as stone.
Aerin watches them both closely from her position on the counter, legs crossed, heel dangling. Aerin opens her mouth to dismiss the Tiger, but Malice beats her to it.
“Get. Out.” His growl is low and menacing. The Tiger, no longer blind with animal-like possession, looks between Aerin and Malice for a moment. Aerin lets her magic fall off the males.
“We could do a threesome,” he suggests, smiling that shit-eating grin again.
“Out!” Malice roars. The Tiger looks sheepish but still winks at Aerin as he passes, slipping out of the damaged bathroom door without another word.
“You’re jealous,” Aerin accuses.
Malice whirls on her, affronted. “I amnotjealous.”
Aerin’s indignation swirls. Annoyed she shouts, “You just chased my date out!” while thrusting her arm towards the door.
“I’m. Not. Jealous.” he repeats. His eyes are blue once more, furious.
“Then why are you being a territorial asshole?!” Aerin uncrosses her legs, leaning forward, towards him. Like he’s got her on a fishing line, always dragging her closer with his anger, with his resistance.
“Because!” he snaps, “You—you—” He inhales sharply. “Fuck it,” he breathes out.
Malice closes the distance between them in one long stride, his mouth slamming into Aerin’s. Aerin rocks back, wrapping her arms around his neck, fingers digging into his messy hair, loose from the fight. His arms bracket her in, hands on the countertop.
The smug satisfaction Aerin usually feels when she gets her way is forgotten with Malice consuming her. Biting. Demanding. And Aerin meets him in turn, yanking on his hair, scoring her nails down his back, shredding his already ruined shirt. Tongues and teeth and a fire deep inside of her being ignited. Malice groans into their kiss and Aerin eats up the noise. His hands find each of Aerin’s hips, forcefully gripping her. He yanks her forward, driving her body up against his.
Malice is all muscle, bulky and broad, heavy against Aerin in the best way. Aerin presses herself into him further, breasts pushing against his chest, panties against the front of his pants. Her dampness spreading, begging for attention. Aerin wantshim: his fire, his anger, his stubbornness, his loss of control. She wants him to use every bit of it to make her come undone too.
Instead, like he’s been zapped with electricity, Malice jerks back. Everywhere his body had been touching her turns cold with the loss of him. His lips are swollen, face flushed, chest rising. He looks shocked.
And then he looks pissed. Lust in his eyes turns to fury in an instant.
“No.” Malice says the word harshly, with a finality Aerin immediately wants to rebel against. Before she can protest, Malice storms out of the bathroom, leaving Aerin on her own.
16
AERIN
The setting sun casts Valtara in a warm orangey glow as Aerin walks briskly down a side street near VCU. Heat clings to the air even after the sun dips below the horizon, summer well on its way.
