Reyna waits with bated breath as Aerin narrows her gaze. She waits to be turned into a mouse or lizard of some kind. Waits to be smacked or tortured for insulting her. Instead, Aerin tosses her head back and laughs.
“You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that,” Aerin says, turning to the mirror to adjust her hair. The Vipers take a step back, relaxing their stances. When Reyna glances at them again, they are both back to their Fae-like forms.
“At a certain point in time, likely sooner than either of us desire, Khortland and I will be Paramyr-bonded.” Aerin says it pragmatically, as if it doesn’t already keep Reyna up at night.
The Princess continues, “We both have…” Aerin pauses, pursing her lips. “More exotic tastes than most Fae.” She eyes Reyna once more, making Reyna feel like a bacterium under one of her microscopes. “I am more than amiable to a compromise, but only under certain conditions.”
Reyna swallows, regretting the question already. “What conditions are those?”
“There will come a time when I ask Khortland to do something he will not want to do. When that time comes, I will need you to support me against his wishes.” Aerin examines her nails, as if she isn’t a stranger asking Reyna to align with heragainst her lover’s interests. As if her alliance would outweigh that of her loyalty to the Fae she loves.
“Why would I do that?” Reyna asks, a bit too haughtily, letting her anger get the best of her. She schools her features when Aerin flashes those golden eyes up to her.
“There is something in it for you as well, sweet little Human.” Aerin grins. Reyna swallows the bile that creeps up her throat. Reyna waits and Aerin smirks like she knows she’s won. “I can make you Fae.”
Reyna’s world rocks on its axis and one of the Vipers laughs at the dumbstruck look on her face. “Wh—How?” Reyna stumbles over her words.
Aerin shrugs, pushing past Reyna and grabbing the door handle. She glances back over her shoulder. “If the rumors are true, I’m the most powerful Fae in existence. And I’malwayswilling to bend the rules.” Aerin winks and then she’s gone, the Vipers following.
Reyna is left in the bathroom, struck by the offer she just received. She collapses against the wall, her Human body crashing from the adrenaline. Her feet slide out from under her and her bottom hits the floor with the thud.
Being a Fae. Could Aerin Tolvare really turn her Fae? Reyna has never heard of such magic being possible, but her heart soars at the idea. She would live much longer. She’d be stronger. She wouldn’t constantly be in danger. She would never have to leave Khortland. Never die by his side or worse, be abandoned by him as her frail Human body ages.
[Khort?]Reyna calls weakly down their bond. Her head is fuzzy, and her limbs feel weak. She grinds her teeth; she hates being Human. She hates it.
[What’s wrong? Where are you?]Khortland’s tone is full of worry. Reyna shows him bathroom stalls and tiled floors. Herwhite-haired Fae seems to be in front of her instantly. He sits next to her, cradling her in his arms.
“It’s okay, you’re okay. Here,” he murmurs into her hair. He hisses as he uses his own canines to open two gashes in his wrist and brings them to Reyna’s mouth. She drinks greedily, haze coming over her. Khortland’s blood is the only drug Reyna allows herself. The best drug she’s ever had. A few swallows and she goes from feeling weak to euphoric.
He pulls his wrist from her and Reyna whimpers at the loss.
“Shhh,” he coos at her. “I can’t give you more, not here.”
Reyna knows, far off in her head where her logical brain lives, that Khortland is right. Their secret, this secret, could not be shared with anyone. Khortland took a great risk to give her blood here and now. If anyone found out that Reyna, a Human, has a blood-bond to a Zeneith Prince, Vitus Hale would terminate her without a second thought.
40
AERIN
Aerin realizes she probably shouldn’t have scared the Human quite so much when Khortland shoots her a nasty look, shoving his way to the bathroom. But Aerin’s head is floating marvelously and she just can’t bring herself to care. The heady rush of things going exactly her way, combined with the Pixie Dust, makes her feel like she’s left her body. Everything feelsbetter.
Once on the dancefloor, it only takes a few gestures for the males to join them. Yarrow slides in behind Quinn, Vyx twists in the arms of the Lion like a seductress, and Aerin positions herself between Malice and Emrys with glee.
Every brush of their hands on her skin feels euphoric. Aerin dances between the two as if they are the only creatures in the club. The way Malice’s wings flare around them shelters Aerin’sfuck-meeyes andfuck-medance moves from the rest of the partygoers. She takes turns grinding against each of them. Emrys’s honey eyes, normally so earnest, are hot with desire. Malice, usually so stoic and unreadable, looks ravenous. Hands take turns tracing body parts until eventually Aerin is mad with the desire to have one of them inside of her.
Aerin looks back and forth between the two of them before she reaches up to pull Emrys’s mouth to hers. Emrys melts into her. The way Malice is punishing, Emrys is eager. When they pull apart his eyes dance in delight.
Aerin turns to Malice. She reaches for him the same way, but he catches her wrist, shaking his head slightly.
The rejection stings. The hand holding her wrist lets go to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I want you both. Together.” Aerin all but begs. Too high to worry about the repercussions of airing those thoughts.
Malice locks eyes with Emrys above her head. Their silent conversation goes on for so long Aerin finds herself puffing out a breath and folding her arms over her chest like a petulant child. Finally, Malice looks back down at her. Emrys slides behind her. His large hands wrap around her hips, and his lips meet her skin at the junction between her shoulder and neck.
“Not tonight, Princess,” Malice says, releasing her face. Aerin is awash with disappointment, despite the way her body lights up for Emrys. Malice moves to step away and unexplainable panic flares inside of her. She grabs his shirt to keep him there.
“Mal, please,” Aerin pleads.
