“Maybe it was one, maybe it was the other, maybe it was both.” Aerin shrugs with a lazy smile on her face, the Pixie Dust making every bone in her body feel lighter.
“I love you!” Quinn says with a laugh.
An arm is thrown over Aerin’s shoulder.
“Regaling the girls with your conquests, hmm?” Khortland asks. He has a drink in his other hand. Aerin snatches it and tosses it back, handing the glass back to him. She can feel eyes on her. Emrys sitting on the couch, Malice leaning against the wall.
Aerin shrugs off Khortland’s arm, swaying to the music. She feels it in her bones, her blood. She moves towards the dancefloor.
“You know me,” Aerin calls over her shoulder, “Always here for a good time.” Something in Aerin’s chest twinges as she says it.
It only takes seconds for Vyx and Quinn to join her. Aerin’s head is light and fuzzy as the Pixie Dust and alcohol course through her. All her worries melt away. She spins and twirls with her Vipers. She loves forgetting everything. When she doesn’t have to work at it, it’s even better.
Instead, all she feels is good.
Another drink finds its way into her hands and Aerin downs it. A pair of Lion Shifters approach them, but a different pair of hands on her hips ward them away. Aerin doesn’t have to turn to know who holds her. Their bond in her side purrs with enjoyment. Aerin shifts her weight back into Malice, letting her body touch him from her ass up. She threads her hands through his at her hips.
“Not going to let me have my fun with some kitties tonight?” Aerin teases. Malice’s fingers on her hips tighten their grip as he pulls her back into him, pressing the evidence of his arousal into her.
“If you want to fuck a Lion, then you’ll have to turn me into one,” Malice growls lowly in her ear. Aerin laughs again, her head spinning from his touch, his charred earth smell, and the drugs.
“I thought you didn’t feel anything towards me. You said it was only the blood-bond.” Aerin’s insecurities bubble to the surface, let loose easily by the Pixie Dust and alcohol.
“I lied.” He says it so matter-of-factly Aerin’s world tilts.
Aerin pulls out of his grip and turns to face him, her eyes scanning his face. With her vision slightly blurred there is no way to discern the truth.
“You lied,” she repeats. Malice grabs her arm and tugs her into him, their chest’s flush with one another.
“Yes, I lied. Against my own will and better judgement, I have wanted you since the moment you slit my throat in that alleyway,” he confesses. Aerin’s breath leaves her.
The club strobes around her, moving without her consent as she keeps her focus solely on Malice. His eyes are a blue flame, alight with something Aerin can’t let herself hope is passion.
“What about Reikan? About the blood-bond? About Emrys? Khortland?”
Malice shushes her, flipping her around and pulling her back against him to dance once more. “Those are not conversations for tonight, Princess,” he murmurs. “Tonight is about having fun.”
A whilelater Aerin and the Vipers abandon the dance floor, ending up in VIP. Aerin finds herself on Emrys’s lap, with her back resting against Malice where he is perched on the arm of the couch. Emrys’s thumb draws lazy circles on her bare thigh. Across from them, Vyx is draped over one of the Lion Shifters from earlier and Quinn is chatting animatedly with Yarrow Hale. Khortland is in a dark corner, hovering over his precious Human, who made an appearance just over an hour ago.
Aerin still can’t decide if she should be jealous of the girl. Hypocrisy or not, Aerin’s drunk brain finds itself irritated at the Human’s presence.
Pulling herself from Emrys’s lap Aerin works her way around the table, collecting the Vipers from their various conversations. Finally, she makes her way to the dark corner. With Vyx and Quinn flanking her and her head slightly clearer, Aerin taps Khortland on the shoulder. He turns his head, annoyance painted over his severe features.
Khortland is the type of male who can, in the blink of an eye, turn from unassuming to intimidating. He is so like Aerin, with his masks. Despite being her Paramyr, Aerin often wonders which mask is his true face.
“Yes?” he offers, ticking an eyebrow up at Aerin.
Aerin gestures to the Human. “I believe I’m owed an introduction.”
“Absolutely not,” Khortland snaps. It’s Aerin’s turn to raise an eyebrow at him. She folds her arms across her chest.
“Now, now, Khortland, that is no way to talk to your Paramyr,” Aerin coos at him.
She isn’t going to hurt to the girl, at least not on purpose. Aerin has never been good at gauging what is too much for a Rogue. She’s met very few Humans in her life, only ever on expeditions to Zeneith or Keylar. Humans, like all other Rogues, are not permitted in Valtara.
A small hand snakes around Khortland’s bicep.
“It’s okay, Khort.” The voice is even and the tone melodic. Khortland’s dark eyes flash from Aerin back to the Human, as if to confirm she’s sure. Whatever conversation they have, they have it in silence.
