She gives him a small unsure smile before going back to her phone. He can’t blame her for her apprehension. Things between them are tenuous at best. Though they seem to have come to some kind of truce after he drank her blood.
In the immediate aftermath, Malice was disgusted with himself. Disgusted with Reikan. Disgusted with Aerin. But now time has passed, and every time Aerin touches the Wolf with casual intimacy or flirts with that fucking Jaguar from Tower 77, the green monster in his chest flares bright and powerful.
Malice knows they are bonded-mates, something that can never be broken. He will always be tied to her, but it isn’t enough. Lately, it doesn’t feel like enough. Even when he desperately wants it to be. When all he wants is to stay as far away from her tempting skin as possible, out of fear that he’ll lose control.
One day he will reach out and touch her again. One day he will snap. This much he knows.
Even now, he finds his fingers itching for the casual intimacy she gives so freely to the Wolf. And worse, he finds his cock aching for a different kind of intimacy.
Adjusting in his seat, Malice pulls his gaze from the Princess to the dense pine forests beyond the windows. Close to Valtara the forest is temperate—full of large trees with large leaves, bushes and flowers everywhere. Eventually that woodland gives way to the deep and dark forest of the North. Pine trees tower above them, and shadows linger. This is the forest Malice knows.
The tube is a one-way system, a single track on which multiple interlocked rectangular-shaped carts are pulled, connecting the three city-states of Novhelm. The track starts in Valtara, the idea conceived by The Tolvare King during his early days of ruling. It took decades to build, obscene amounts ofmoney and magic. Now it’s one of the biggest sources of income for Valtara. The tube runs from Valtara to Zeneith, from Zeneith to Keylar, and finally from Keylar back to Valtara. The system is managed in each city-state. In Valtara, the guards are strictest both at the tube and at the gates.
Rogues, like Emrys, are not permitted inside Valtara for any reason. Hiding him inside the city is dangerous. They will be marginally safer in Zeneith, where Rogues are free to enter the city. Where the Hale King collects Rogues like figurines.
The tube begins to slow as they approach the station in Zeneith. Aerin leans down to wake the sleeping Wolf. Emrys quickly shifts to his Fae form, untangling limbs as he sits up. The Vipers also become more alert. Aerin removes the magic locks she placed on the door with a wave of her hand.
Malice still isn’t sure of the plan once they arrive. Aerin has skirted all his questions, as normal, and he has his suspicions she’ll get into trouble immediately. He palms the weapons Aerin concealed with her magic; everything is still accounted for. Even Reikan is alert, sitting a few doors too close to the surface.
The tube comes to a slow stop, the doors sliding open with a hiss. Malice leaves the cart first, scanning the area with all his senses. Nothing appears out of the ordinary. Other travelers stream from the carts farther down. Two workers appear, pulling their suitcases. Vyx and Quinn step out of the cart next, followed by Aerin and Emrys at the back. Their hands are tangled together, Aerin’s expression a mask of indifference.
Vyx handles the luggage, paying for it to be delivered to the Royal Village where they’ll be staying. Aerin bats eyelashes at the workers, despite holding hands with her supposed lover. Malice clenches his fist, averting his eyes from her little show. He knows it’s fake and still it irritates him.
Finally, they ready to leave the terminal, a different worker leading them out. Malice takes position at the back of the group,flaring his wings just wide enough to keep Aerin out of sight. He surveys the crowd as it parts for them. When they reach security, the guard nods his head at the Vipers.
“We were alerted to your arrival. No need to check the documents again. Please, enjoy our city, Princess.” They are waved through. The tunnel after security spits them out on the street where a mass of photographers lies in wait. Aerin dons her apathetic expression, still holding Emrys’s hand. Malice blocks her from the photographs as much as he can, a low growl forming in his throat at the invasion of her privacy.
The photographers, mostly prey Shifters, look uneasy after his display.
“If a single one of you follows us, you’ll be answering to me,” Malice growls the warning across the space. A few more pictures are snapped before the crowd disperses.
Aerin leads them through winding streets. Malice has a cursory understanding of the layout of Zeneith. Less structured than Valtara, Zeneith is more like a maze. Pockets of luxury and inequity lay just doors down from one another. Valtara is palatable, for the tourism and the economy there. Zeneith feels scattered, as if someone tossed dice and walked away, leaving everything where it fell.
Despite the narrow, packed streets, Malice isn’t worried for their safety. He is still one of the most formidable Fae in the city-state. As long as Aerin doesn’t order him to sit on the sidelines while she puts herself in grave danger, they will be fine.
Malice clenches his muscles at the thought. He won’t let that happen again.
Eventually, the Vipers split from the group with a nod. Malice doesn’t bother asking where they are going. He knows good and well Vyx can take care of herself and her cousin. Creatures aren’t stupid enough to mess with Viper Shifters, their reputation heady in all of Novhelm.
Aerin continues her trek until they come upon a non-descript apartment building, far from the Royal Village but near the western gate. Aerin enters. There is no doorman, the building is worn down with peeling wallpaper and banisters stripped of their stain. The stairs creek as Aerin starts up them.
“What are we doing here, Aerin?” Malice asks, keeping an eye on the next landing as they climb.
“Will you just trust me for once?” she snaps back.
“Doubtful,” Malice grumbles, following behind her and Emrys.
Aerin veers off the stairs and down a hallway, stopping at apartment 3F. She doesn’t knock, instead goes straight for the handle. It’s locked.
Aerin looks to Malice, gesturing at the door. Malice raises his leg and slams his boot against it. The wooden door goes flying off its hinges, skittering down the entryway hall. The studio apartment is small and run down, but homey. On the bed at the center of the small space is Zeneith Prince Khortland Hale, balls deep in another creature.
The creature underneath the Prince squeaks in surprise, grasping for sheets to cover their body. Aerin walks into the room confidently, striding past Malice in the entryway.
Khortland still hasn’t turned to see the intruders. Instead, he runs a hand through his shaggy white-blonde hair. He slides himself out of the creature below him. Malice can’t get a read onwhatexactly is in the bed with the Prince. Given they are in a shady apartment, far from the Royal Village, Malice hazards a guess it’s not a Fae. Maybe not even a Shifter. Certainly nothing formidable by the size of it.
Finally, Khortland steps off the bed and turns to face them. Naked as the day he was born, a lazy smile stretches across his features.
“Paramyr, how nice to see you.”
