“I wanted Emrys, I did. I do. But IknowEmrys’s love for me. It is as much a part of me as my own arm. It’syourdesire I must constantly question!” Malice is silent and still as Aerin continues, “You don’t get to say the things you said to me, and thennot touch me.”
Aerin’s outburst hangs in the air between them. She bites back tears as she watches him, internally cursing herself for being so weak. He holds himself tight like he always does around her, barely bracing onto a control she wishes would just snap.
Finally, Malice breaks the tense silence. “I meant what I said, Princess, every word of it. But there are things between us that shouldn’t be messed with. Can you not understand why I’m hesitant?”
Like a tide of defeat washing over her, Aerin turns away from him, continuing down the trail. “You were right; I need to focus on the meeting.”
44
AERIN
After walking a few miles, Malice veers off the established trail. The new trail is barely marked, hardly downtrodden, but if Aerin looks closely, she can see the path marked by Wolf prints.
Eventually Malice says, “We are close,” breaking the silence that has lingered between them since Aerin dismissed him earlier. She spent the rest of the hike compartmentalizing. Stuffing her turmoil down into bite sized packages that can be hidden amongst all the other things she is ignoring.
Malice is right. She needs to focus. She needs to be at her best. Just because this Alpha agreed to meet with them, doesn’t mean they aren’t in danger. Doesn’t mean they’ll tell Aerin anything useful without some manipulation on her part.
Approaching a clearing, Aerin spots a small wooden cabin set back from the path, smoke gently rolls from its chimney. The smell of spiced tea wafts from the open front door. Just when Aerin wonders if this is the place, two Wolves make their presence known on the other side of the clearing. Both are large, though smaller than Emrys in his Wolf form. Brutes compared to the average size of a Southern Wolf. They are both grey,though one has brown eyes, the other blue. Malice steps slightly in front of Aerin, subtly blocking her from full view.
Aerin and Malice both still as a third Wolf, even larger than the first two, comes trotting into the clearing. This Wolf is white with grey patches and piercing green eyes. He seems to smile, and Malice relaxes the smallest amount. In a blink, the trotting Wolf changes into a striding Fae. The male, with his salt and pepper hair, green eyes, and bare body, grins at them.
“Malice, my old friend.” His smile is warm when he hugs the Dragon-Fae. To Aerin’s surprise, Malice grasps the male back.
“Soren, it’s good to see you.” Malice releases the Wolf. “Soren, I’d like you to meet Aerin Tolvare.” Aerin reaches out a hand and the Wolf shakes it with an easy smile.
“You’ll have to forgive my manners; I am rarely in this form,” Soren says, releasing her hand. “But please, come inside.” He gestures to the cabin. “I’m sure I’ll find some pants.” He flashes a wink at Aerin, and Malice bristles for only a second before laughing, actuallylaughing.
Aerin casts him an incredulous glance,but the Dragon-Fae only shrugs, following after the naked Wolf. Aerin glances to the other Wolves in the clearing.
As if Soren has eyes in the back of his head he says, “Don’t worry about my pack, Miss Tolvare, they will not harm you.” He strides through the open door. Malice side steps to allow Aerin to enter first before following her inside.
The cabin is cozy. A single room with a small bed pressed against one wall and a hearth with flickering flames on another. The opposite side contains a quaint kitchen and dining area. A kettle on the stove is near boiling and three tea-cups are set around the small wooden table, baked goods placed in the center.
“Please, have a seat,” Soren gestures to the table as he goes off, presumably to find some pants. Malice motions for Aerinto take the seat closest to the wall and farthest from the door. Malice sits in the position next to her, forcing Soren to take the seat across from Aerin. Soren ties the drawstrings on a pair of sweatpants as he crosses the room. He grabs the kettle and pours three cups before sitting down. He lounges back, cavalier.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with us,” Aerin says, adding sweetener to her tea and stirring it carefully.
“Of course. Malice tells me you are writing a research paper in your program at VCU?” Soren replies, and Aerin schools her features, rolling with it.
“Yes, that’s right, I am researching the intricacies of magic outside of Fae, Mer and Shifters, particularly that of Wolves. Of course, my library research only gets me so far,” Aerin supplies, continuing to stir her tea.
Soren gives her a wolfish grin over the edge of his teacup, taking the first sip. At this Aerin brings her own cup to her lips. The tea is flavored with cinnamon and orange, cozy and delicious. Aerin hums in enjoyment.
Though her enjoyment falls rather quickly when Soren says, “So it has nothing to do with that Wolf you and the Hale Prince were parading around yesterday?”
Malice stills next to her, his wings tense. Aerin switches it on, laughing as she sets her tea back down.
“Well, you’ve caught me,” Aerin says, leaning in conspiratorially. “That was all a show so I can keep him around. His name is Emrys, a lone Southern Wolf I met over a month ago when I ventured outside the Valtara walls. I don’t hold the same prejudices as my father, or the same ethnocentrism as the Hale King for that matter.” Aerin shrugs, leaning back again. Soren evaluates her, looking for a lie.
“Surely you know my reputation,” Aerin supplies, taking a bite of bread. Malice eyes her, questioning what the hell she is doing.
“I am aware of what they say about you, Miss Tolvare,” Soren says carefully.
“Then you know my interest is purely out of curiosity, if not born of boredom. I have a Wolf in my inner circle and so, I’d like to know exactly what that means.” Aerin takes another sip of tea. Soren seems to relax a bit at this, taking a large bite of a pastry.
“I will answer your questions, Miss Tolvare,” he concedes. “After all, it is rare to have a Tolvare in one’s debt.” Understanding washes over Aerin and she smiles knowingly at the Alpha.
“She will not owe you anything, Soren; this is a favor to me,” Malice says lowly, his hands tightening into fists on the table.
