“You were there?” he said to the Deathstalker as she ran her sharp, purple fingernails along his tattoos.
The female nodded, her sleek sable bob shining beneath the crystal chandelier. “For one heart-stopping moment, we were sure you were going to kill Callum Maloney. Pity you didn’t.”
Ronin snickered softly. “Not a fan?”
Her red lips parted into a predatory smile. “We have been hoping for his defeat ever since he took down the champion of Nephes.”
“Are you from Nephes?” Ronin remembered that the male currently drooling all over his partner was from a town in Akti. As were most of the guests Ronin had spoken with over the past few days.
“No. But we did spend a rather long and enjoyable weekend with their former champion,” the Deathstalker purred, raking her serpentine eyes over Ronin’s torso. “We’re originally from a town in what’s currently the Desolation. It was destroyed during the war, so we left. Moved up here to Kheimos.”
Something hot and achy tore through his chest at her casual mention of the war, bringing to the surface his own memories. Without the numbing effect of the Delirium, his wolf thrashed against his ribs.
As if she sensed his discomfort, Mireille wrapped her fingers around the hand he’d left on the settee between them. His wolf calmed, the guilt and regret dissipating. He felt a surge of gratitude for his friend before refocusing on the Deathstalker female.
“Quite a different climate up here,” he said. “Do you miss the heat?”
Her forked tongue flicked out to graze his cheek. “We find there are plenty of other ways to generate heat in the Northern Territories.” Her eyes flicked to Mireille. “If you and your lover are interested… Have you ever tried venom-play?” She licked one of her fangs.
He fought to suppress a laugh as his wolf shuddered within him.Absolutelynot.
“A generous offer,” he said out loud, “but I think we’ll pass for tonight.”
She leaned back, disappointment dulling her pale green eyes, and shrugged. “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Butcher.”
She slunk off the settee and exited the parlor. Probably in search of another willing victim.
A few of the other guests followed her out. If Ronin had to guess, it was approaching midnight. He wondered if Otto had left for Listhima yet. Ronin suspected he had—their host hadn’t shown up downstairs after their private dinner.
“Nero!” A high-pitched voice rang out from the parlor entrance, where a thin, severe-looking Beastrunner female with curly brown hair was stalking toward the settee.
Nero shot to his feet, jostling Mireille into Ronin. He hooked an arm around her shoulder, his fingers lingering on her bare skin.
“Ce-cecelia!” Nero stuttered, darting his eyes between his mate and Mireille. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Cecelia placed a hand on her hip, reaching out the other for her wayward mate and throwing a sharp look at Mireille. “Looking real hard, it seems.”
Nero took his mate’s hand, muttering apologies. He threw one last, wistful glance toward Mireille as Cecelia dragged him from the parlor.
Ronin laughed as they exited. “Nero better be careful. If Otto catches him fawning over you…”
“I think his mate might be more of a danger to him than our host,” Mireille smirked.
Ronin swiveled his gaze around the parlor. There was one last couple lingering in the corner, a Beastrunner female perched in the lap of a Deathstalker male, his hand roving over her thigh, heads bowed in quiet conversation.
“The guests you’ve been speaking with,” he whispered, “which territories are they from?”
Mireille didn’t even ask why he’d asked, seemed to catch the direction of his thoughts. “They’re all from Akti. Why?”
“That Deathstalker female I was just speaking with… she’s from the Desolation. Doesn’t fit the pattern.”
Mireille grunted. “She looked like she wanted to suck you dry. And not your blood.”
Ronin smirked. “Jealous, Valette? I’m surprised you even noticed, since you were so tied up with Nero.”
She waved him off. “Anyway, the Desolation borders Akti. It could still fit.”
“Do you think the locations signify something?”
