“Our show at the theater last night worked. Wow, Otto must be completely smitten if he’s already trying to kill me after one meeting with you. Bravo.”
“You need to be careful when we get up there,” Mireille said, her voice edged with panic. “There’s no way this will be the only attempt.”
“I can handle myself. Plus my hot, deadly girlfriend will protect me, right?” He smirked, then dipped his head, dragging a hand across the back of his neck. He was still sore from the fight. The healing suppressant hadn’t fully worn off, and the raw cuts across his back and shoulders rubbed uncomfortably against his shirt. “You find anything else at the Imperial library today?”
She shook her head. “Waste of time.”
“Dimi probably feels the same.”
Mireille snickered. “Is she your real…”
“Nah. Just a friend who occasionally helps me blow off steam after a fight.”
“Does she know about us? About our assignment?”
Ronin sighed. “No, but I guess I’ll have to tell her now. I won’t give her all the details. Just enough for her to know not to blab about fucking me when I’m supposed to be dating you. She’ll be discreet.”
Mireille shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. I spent an entire afternoon fucking a mark last weekend. Thoughhewon’t be telling anyone.”
She was chuckling when he met her eyes, but the vision that speared for his mind nearly knocked him flat.
Mireille splayed out on a bed, her copper hair fanned across a pillow and her wrists bound in black silks, straining against the headboard as Ronin cupped her breast and licked between her legs.
Frenzied fucking Dienses, he was too hard up. Hence why he’d entertained Dimi’s request when she’d ambushed him in the showers earlier. Thought maybe the release would help banish the highly inappropriate things he’d been thinking about his new partner.
Obviously it hadn’t worked.
He broke Mireille’s stare, then strode to his locker to gather his belongings. “You ready? Mattias should be waiting for us at the club by now. I’ll give you some privacy to change.”
She glanced down at her attire—dark gray leggings with a large wet spot and a long-sleeved black top. “Change?”
“That’swhat you thought you were going to wear to a nightclub? Man, you really don’t get out much, do you?”
Mireille pursed her lips. “The Frosted Crystal isnotmy scene.”
He cocked his head, pushing his tongue into his cheek. “I think we might be able to salvage this.” He stepped over the bench as he extended a claw, then sliced through her shirt just underneath the generous swells of her breasts.
“What the fuck, Ronin?” She grabbed for the falling fabric. “This is my favorite shirt!Asshole.”
“You’re the one that didn’t dress appropriately.” He shrugged. “You would’ve stuck out like a sore thumb. Now at least everyone will be staring at you for therightreason.”
“And what reason is that?” She whipped her hands to her hips, the movement lifting her newly-shorn hem and exposing her black lace bra. His wolf began panting.
Ronin whispered against the shell of her ear and if he wasn’t mistaken, she might’ve leaned in a bit closer. “You have an incredibly sexy stomach,my love.”
The tiny hairs along her nape prickled, and he caught the shift in her scent, though she still looked furious when he backed away.
“Almost as sexy as mine.” He winked, lifting his shirt and patting his own well-earned abs, delighted to see her eyes dart there and glaze over. He swept past her and held open the door as she grumbled and tugged on her jacket and beanie.
“Let’s go, Valette.The Crystal awaits!”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The Frosted Crystal was a glowing, thumping beacon beneath the damp blanket of Kheimos’s ever-present snowfall.
A long line of huddled Fae, mostly Beastrunners and Deathstalkers, awaited entry into the exclusive club.
Mireille didn’t know why they bothered. Unless you knew someone, or were well-known yourself, there was no chance of getting inside. Windriders were given special preference, but even a few of them were out here, stamping their feet and blowing into clasped fists.
