Embarrassment floods me, but Sin only leans back against a concrete wall. He gives me a lazy smile, clearly unbothered by time-sensitive things like the looming apocalypse.
Strong hands band around my waist as he pulls me closer, and amusement flashes across his features when he takes in the blush on my cheeks.
“Feeling shy, kitten?” He asks in a low voice that has my thighs squeezing together.
“Just focused on the mission,” I squeak.
I’m definitely not replaying how I slowly stripped in front of Sin to get ready for this mission, only for him not to make a move.
Those wouldn’t be mission-appropriate thoughts.
Nope. Totally not feeling self-conscious.
I need a topic change.
Or maybe an intervention.
“I didn’t expect the Beast Realm to be so urbanized.” I try to sound casual as I tilt my chin at the buildings.
He lifts a brow, like he knows exactly what I’m doing, but he plays along. “It’s not like this across the entire realm. Many of the cities are built around certain species, especially pack-forming ones. But this is aconglomerate for all of them. It’s closer to the Ever Fields.”
I nod, even though I’m still confused. Someone walks by with a boom box, and I bite my bottom lip as I try to figure out why this realm looks like a blast from the past.
Sin’s grip flexes against my sides, just for a second. “The Beast Realm has looser laws about visiting the Mortal one. Magnus once told me they haven’t been able to get the internet to work here because magic seems to interfere with it. So, the advancement of technology is frozen in time.”
“Wait, so there are shifters in the Mortal Realm?” I ask, surprised.
Have I met one? I could have sworn my ninth-grade gym teacher was a bear.
His answering laugh sends my heart into a happy dance as he gently pushes off the wall to continue walking.
It’s an overcast day, but the sun peeks out for a moment, reflecting off hundreds of windows. I squint at the sudden glare, and Sin tucks me at his side. His pace is unhurried, making it easy for me to keep up.
“The shifters are everywhere. Those who can apparate tend to travel a lot, trying to find their mates. The Mortal Realm is the easiest to get to, since there are no wards. It’s why shifters are the prime producers of Mortal Realm contraband,” he explains, even as he continues to scan our surroundings.
My urge to match an animal to every person I’ve ever met has never been stronger. But the bone ringtucked away in my pocket heats, reminding me we’re here for a reason.
This thing is definitely sentient.
Clearing my throat, I try to focus. “So, how do we want to go about this? Do we look for witnesses to the attack on the collectors? Try to find evidence? Maybe set up a sting operation?” Once again, the countless hours I’ve spent watching true crime documentaries are paying off.
Rather than face me, Sin’s eyes stay locked ahead of us. But this time, his gaze looks somewhere far away. A small, wistful smile tugs at his lips, as if he’s remembering a happy memory. It only lasts a second before he snaps out of it and glances back down at me. There’s a faint flush on his cheeks.
Is Sin… blushing?
“We’ll start with questioning the shopkeepers on the edge of the city, closest to the Ever Fields,” he responds in a brusque tone.
Even as I nod in agreement, I can’t look away from the blush on his cheeks.
What memory could make Sin blush? Too curious to let it drop, I decide to prod.
Just as I open my mouth to ask, Sin bends to whisper against my ear. “And kitten? The next time you bite your lip while staring up at me, I’m going to drop to my knees and worship your pussy with my tongue. And I won’t stop until the only thing that pretty mouth can do is scream.”
The citizens of the Beast Realm are lovely. Sure, I’ve only met a few dozen, but they’ve all been warm and forthcoming.
We’ve been questioning shopkeepers along the city’s outer edges. Every few minutes, I cast a glance at the sprawling fields on the other side of the road. There isn’t a single, blue-tinted light to indicate a spirit might be there.
Their absence has my stomach twisting with anxiety. But my worry has nothing on the shopkeepers.
