“There are a few spots left unguarded,” Zander says, tossing his thick arm across the back of the empty chair beside him. “We’d have to climb over the wall at night to remain unnoticed, but it shouldn't be an issue.”
“We'll need weapons,” Tristan adds, cupping his pint between both hands. “We have no hope of remaining unnoticed if we have to fight Soulless without them.” He gazes at me with a knot of worry bunched between his brows. I pat his forearm soothingly.
“Don't worry about that,” Amara says, a suspicious gleam in her whiskey eyes. “I'll take care of the weapons.”
“Don't steal any,” I warn.
She rolls her eyes and hooks her ankles around the front of the chair, teetering on its back legs. “I’m not going to steal anything. Just leave it to me. I have an idea.” She drops her head back and stares up at the wooden beams of the pub with a shifty expression that has alarm bells tolling in my head.
Zander smiles. “You're definitely going to steal them.”
Amara’s chair slams down and she swipes at him, but Zander dodges her easily with a laugh. His smiling face drifts towards mine, instantly sobering. The worry lining his face is a punch to the gut. “Do you think we have enough time?”
“I'll know more once I see the marks, but I’m sure we do,” I lie, hearing the tick, tick, tick of the clock striking that much faster.
“You know there’s a much easier way to handle this,” Tristan casually tosses out, clasping his hands over his abdomen as he relaxes into his seat. “One where we could just walk out instead of sneaking out.”
Tristan eyes me meaningfully and I frown, unable to foresee what he’s leading up to.
“You could ask Darius if we could leave and return,” he says. I stiffen, instantly furious at the suggestion. “He's probably the only other person besides the Queen who could give us permission.”
I narrow my eyes at him but he boldly stares back, unfazed in the slightest in the face of my displeasure. “Not happening.”
“That's a fantastic idea,” Zander says. Ignoring my glare now directed at him, he lays his forearms on the table and knocks twice on the wood. “That male is a goner for you.” He laughs. “He’s walked past the inn more times than I can count.” Batting his eyes teasingly, he singsongs, “Peeking into windows, staring up at the rooms. Searching for our little seductress.”
Irritation wars with humor as I pinch my lips to stifle a laugh at his ridiculous antics.
“He really has come by quite often,” Tristan adds. “I've learned his schedule and followed him on occasion.” He pauses to swig from his ale. “It’s completely out of his way and there's no reason for him to come by unless he was looking for someone. We all know he isn't looking for any of us.”
I bow my head and secretly smile to myself. Even though I know it was for the best, I can't say I wasn't disappointed Darius never came by. Well, not disappointed in him, per se, more with myself for pining over someone who hadn't even given me a second thought while he consumed all of mine. Hearing that he’s been searching me out in his own way, evidence that I am on his mind, causes an unwelcome flutter to reverberate in my chest.
But that still doesn't change the fact that I don't want to use him in that way. It feels like a betrayal of the worst kind, which is odd in itself since I usually have no qualms with deception. Not if it's necessary, and in this case, it most definitely is. “I still don't think that's a good idea.”
“It's a great idea,” Tristan argues.
I slap my palm to the table, pointing at him with a warning. “Tristan, don’t.”
He holds his palms up congenially, but remains firm. “I understand, I really do. But if you can ask it of me with Aurora, then I can ask it of you.”
Any excuses I may have had instantly crumble and I jerk a nod. Irrationally furious with him for expecting this of me, even though I require it of him, I veer my gaze from his, following Mona as she strolls towards the couple seated beneath the bay window. That is, until the door opens and three familiar males walk in, followed by one unfamiliar fae.
Darius.
All previous thoughts instantly scatter at the sight of him walking into the tavern. And as if dying of thirst, I greedily drink in every inch of him. The way his wavy, shoulder length, black hair gleams blue beneath the daylight steaming through the window. The way his lush lips shape his words as he speaks quietly to the males who accompany him. His sculpted chest straining at the seams of his black leather vest. Those intense, glacial blue eyes that could swallow me whole with just a look.
He laughs at something the unknown fae says, and a soft smile pulls at my lips at the desirable sound. He inhales a deep breath through his nostrils, then as if a wolf scenting his prey, his head whips around and his eyes snap to mine. Ensnaring me mind, body, and soul, the blue of his eyes burn as brightly as his illuminated gems, searing me all the way to my core. My skin pebbles and a ball of heat forms in my lower belly before that impossible bond strums to life, digging its claws into the organ beneath my chest.
Surprise, desire, hope, lust, anger, longing, wariness, suspicion, affection. All these emotions stream through the bond, colliding and clashing with my own until I have no way of determining which emotion belongs to whom. And although this connection is strange and confusing, now that it's reformed, I notice the void that was once there. A piece of myself that I've been lacking. As if his absence has deprived me of a basic life sustaining element, but now that he’s here and the once missing link has clicked into place, the cavity within my soul is now filled. Complete and whole.
Power radiates off him in waves, saturating the air with an almost frantic fervor. Feeling his volatile power blanket the room, the patrons cower into themselves as they yield to their alpha. Several panic and stumble over their feet to rush towards the door while the more courageous lower their gazes and slump in their chair, attempting to become invisible. Not me. I welcome the frenzied savageness of him. Luxuriate in it. Feast on it as the dominant male’s eyes lick me with a burning fire, searing a branding trail from throat to pussy. And as my body burns, something in me softens. Weakens. That cage I've built, the one that's pivotal to my survival, rattles violently at the overwhelming emotions.
But I hardly notice the detrimental effect as my heart races, my sex slickens, and I bite back a moan as he strides toward me. No, he doesn't stride. He stalks. He prowls. He hunts for the prey that's escaped his clutches for the past several weeks.
He stops before me and towers above, peering down at me with an intensity that's both savage and wild, and I lose all sense of self as I get lost within those manic blue orbs.
The indomitable pillar lowers himself towards me, flattening both hands on the table, and a ripple of undiluted power knocks my breath from my lungs as he cages me in between his arms. Lowering his head near mine, his lips graze the lobe of my ear. “Where were you?” he asks in his gravelly deep tone.
A buzzing sounds in my ears as I inhale cedar and smoky musk. The scent of him clouds my mind, rattling the cage more viciously. Weakening it at the joints as I subconsciously arch back into his chest, spreading my legs as my juices pool at the juncture between my thighs.
“I've been here,” I reply, hearing the lust thickening my voice.
“No you haven't,” he accuses harshly. The furious words rumble through his chest into my back, the buzz intensifying as a small fissure forms within the bars.
Darius slides one hand around my waist and splays his large, calloused hand over my abdomen. My skin crackles and my breathing quickens as he buries his nose into the crook of my neck, releasing a muffled groan that vibrates me to my very bones. And that small fissure, that rift, splinters and webs throughout the bars of the cage until it explodes on a thunderous crack that gouges at my chest.
As if a vengeful wave comes to obliterate my mind, an onslaught of emotions crashes into me and I physically rear back into Darius at the unexpected attack. Tristan’s furious, Zander’s nervous, Kace is wary, and the unknown fae is confused. A fae male across the room is petrified. Mona is amused, but unsurprised. A female two blocks down from here is bored, while the male she’s with is peaking in sexual euphoria. Ten clicks from the tavern, a group of humans and fae feel hope and excitement, as well as wrath and bloodlust.
Hate, love, hunger, fear, sadness, weariness, pain, heartbreak, longing. All these emotions and more tumble into me from beings near and far. None of them mine, but they now belong to me just the same.
My breathing becomes laborious, sweat slickens my brow, and my heart pounds a chaotic rhythm as it attempts to break free from my chest. I try to separate the roaring chaos within my mind. To separate myself from all others. But I'm swept up in the whirlwind and swiftly become lost within the deluge.
“Let her go,” Tristan commands. “Now.”
“No,” Darius snarls, pressing me tighter to his chest. The emotions magnify with his touch and I curl into myself, whimpering.
A chair scrapes against the floor, then Tristan bends over the table to crowd us both with a mask carved from fury. “Remove your hands or I will remove them for you,” he says with a voice of burning ice. Darius says nothing as a growl rumbles from him into me, riding on a swell of rage and possessiveness.
“Let her go, Darius,” Griffin orders. “She’s in pain.”
