Chapter 27
Oceanview Harbour isn’t far from the Kingdom of Flesh. We also didn’t stop at any free cities along the way. So, it didn’t take us long to enter the harbour. I’m a breath closer to figuring out who this unawakened ice elemny is—the root of my problems.
Astin becomes my shadow when we leave the ship.
Silver eyes cast left, right, and down the streets we pass.
Alad moves ahead, becoming our navigator mostly.
However, since leaving the Kingdom of Flesh, a frustrating feeling has overwhelmed me, pulsing at my temples, and I know our fans are following us.
Flashing cameras stir irritation inside me with every flash of blinding white light or insensitive elemny entering my space.
More often than not, I’m like a side attraction—some circus freak they can take photos of and invade my sanctuary when all I want is a damn good hunt to quench the wrath within.
Through the flashing lights and ignorant fans, I eye Alad with a stiff back, a formal grey suit, and a silver tie.
He’s very professional. He’s not the only one.
I wear a black suit and a red tie because King Walkyer wants me to act as if I’m not going on a hunt.
Why? Because my brother thinks it will stir up a commotion.
Being outside of Flesh stirs commotion in itself. Wearing comfortable clothing wouldn’t make me stand out any more than I already fucking do. If she’s intelligent enough, Pandora should know why we’re here.
As we near her street, I contemplate what I would do if I deemed Alad’s secrecy too much to withstand. How quickly can I kill him without Astin interfering and getting in the way? Yet, knowing Astin, he likely believes I will not touch Alad for many reasons.
He’s the best information gatherer in Eraminia.
King—Former King Ragan hired Alad because he hacked our security system from halfway across Eraminia.
We didn’t know who he was then, but Ragan placed me on a mission when I was eighteen to hunt down whoever hacked the castle’s system and bring him here.
When I found Alad, it was astonishing to see a twenty-six-year-old man living in poverty, sharing a room with three younger siblings and using outdated computer software to sell intel for money. It was hard to hurt him after learning about his living situation.
But I took him back out of fear that King Ragan would harm my younger brothers if I didn’t.
When I lured him into the Throne Room, I expected a spectacle.
Instead, we got King Ragan offering him a job…
or the death penalty. Alad asked for the death penalty, which caused King Ragan to howl with menacing laughter and say, “This will be your death penalty. Work for me until your bones cannot move, your mind cannot think, and your legs cannot walk. You will leave me only if you work yourself to death, making your own grave.”
He’s the best at what he does, and no one has ever compared to Alad. So, it causes a curious stir at the baffling thought that he couldn’t gain an inkling of information on Pandora. He knows something about her, which wouldn’t bother me if it were anyone else but the girl I’m currently fixated on.
For a satisfying hunt, I desire to strip away all layers of her flesh and understand her completely.
Who is she? I’m curious about her family history.
What does she like to eat? What does she like and hate?
It’s like dating someone. But in the end, my hand would sink into her heart, and I would watch her bright ice elemny eyes fade when I clenched her heart so tight that it bled.
“We’re here,” Alad says.
I fold my arms under my chest and grimace at the apartment block that looks like the others around it. “What room is hers?”
Alad points to the apartment and tells me it’s on the second floor, the fifth window to the right. A grim line forms across my mouth, and my eyes narrow at the slight opening of her window.
Someone wanted a sliver of air to breeze through the room and freshen it up.
Many possibilities run through my mind about why the window is open and cracked.
Pandora could have forgotten to close it before going to the Kingdom of Flesh.
She might want to bring in crisp ocean air to mask her scent, hoping I won’t know if she’s returned to her apartment.
Then, my thoughts darken.
Pandora could still be inside the room, oblivious that I was hunting her. If that’s the case, I will kill her then and there. Disappointment will work through me at the thought of killing her so soon. But what would be the point of the hunt if I’m the one who’s hunting an ignorantly stupid girl?
We enter the apartment building after I stop analysing a fucking window like it’s Pandora.
Down the narrow hallway, I eye the door to the Old Wolf’s place and tell Alad and Astin to entertain themselves while I search Pandora’s room. They don’t object, knowing I’m in the mood for a hunt and don’t want any distractions.
It’s easier to stay out of my way than to piss me off.
I may be as mad as King Ragan, but a hunt means as much to me as protecting my family. And interference bothers me.
My nose wrinkles and flares at the heavy scent of mould when I open her door. To the right of me, someone has left the fridge door slightly open, and a putrid stench emanates from inside. As much as I don’t fucking want to, I need to confirm the smell before I move on.
There’s a pot of pasta. The slimy substance, gluggy and wretched, flops to the edge when I tip it to the side.
That’s not where the mouldy smell is coming from.
I pull open the fruit drawer and arch my brow at the seven-fucking-hundred-year-old oranges on the brink of death, looking more like shrivelled prunes.
This fucking girl is as vulgar as they come.
As I rise, my phone vibrates.
Alek: Ri opened the window when we entered her apartment. But we forgot to close it when we left. We opened it because she almost passed out from the stench.
Me: Anything else you may have moved around or opened before I can analyse the room? Did you open the fridge?
I eye the mirror with the towel hanging over it when another message appears.
Alek: Nothing that will hinder your hunt, sir.
I take that as he didn’t open the fridge. When searching for something, Pandora carelessly left it open and didn’t notice when she left.
My fingertips brush the dust settling across the dresser before my focus snaps to the clean spot with no lingering residue. There was something small there, and she had taken it.
I step away when my boot presses into something slimy.
Thick lotion adheres to the shirt and floorboards as I raise it and toss it aside.
There’s a lotion bottle hidden underneath.
I flip it in my hand and grimace. Out of everything Pandora wanted to take with her, the signs pointed to her grabbing the lotion, but it dropped, and she accidentally stepped on it.
Why would she want it? It seems unnecessary and invaluable.
I leave the lotion on the dresser, open the drawers, and notice the missing clothes. When I open the other drawer, my finger hooks around the strap of a raunchy pink bra. There are many colourful bras and frisky panties, which is odd. Not even a single pair of panties would cover her arse.
A twitch of a smile crosses my face, and I huff a breath. She’s smart. Pandora took all the underwear she could use for comfort, rather than something sexy. I bet she’s wearing a fucking sports bra and boyleg underwear because it’s easier to run in them.
Then my focus settles on the pile of clothes beside the tallboy, ruffled up and moved around as if Pandora shuffled through them before leaving.
She has her bed pressed against the wall that overlooks the window I watched from outside.
Gripping the sheets, I flip them over when my lip curls at the packet of fucking chips.
She’s a disgusting slob of an unawakened brat. It won’t be hard to fucking find her. Follow the trail of breadcrumbs, and it will lead me straight to her.
I flip the mattress over when I notice a slit sewn together with tape and fishing wire. When I open the cut, I arch a brow at the Glock hidden inside. So, she’s competent enough to leave a gun behind.
Entering the bathroom, it’s by far the cleanest part of her apartment.
Her toothbrush leans against the plastic cup, and her vanity holds a box of unopened tampons and black elastic bands.
I take the hairbrush for analysis, but I doubt anything would come back if she had lived her entire life in the Kingdom of Crystal.
Upon further inspection of her vanity, I found eye drops and creams.
Come to think of it, Pandora had brown eyes, and when she dressed as a water and earth element, she wore the correct contact lenses.
This means she may not look as she perceives herself and, instead, will appear entirely different.
This makes it somewhat challenging to find her.
But as long as I have a sliver of knowledge, it will lead me in her general direction.
She will slip up.
They always do.
“Anything?” Astin says from the doorway.
As I leave her apartment, I hand him the brush. “Get Alad to take this to any forensics place in Oceanview Harbour. Tell him he has two hours before we’re on the move again.”
“And what do you want me to do?”
“Watch over him while he does it.”
He shifts his gaze away and then back. “What are you going to do?”
I lean against the doorframe. My focus settles on the door next to her apartment. “Pandora left her home with a sense of abruptness. I will search the Old Wolf’s home before heading to the pier.”
“You think she went by ship?”
“Likely. Old Wolf would have had allies like those in the Kingdom of Flesh. Someone loyal to her would house the girl and hide her from me.”
Astin inclines his head and leaves without another word.
I enter the Old Wolf’s apartment. My frown deepens before I close the door and approach the body riddled with poisonous flowers.
The flowers wilt and burn across the petals until it’s an ashen corpse underneath.
The stench of burning flesh suffocates the room, giving me a sense of elation at the delight.
I shuffle through the documents on the rickety old desk pressed against the windowsill. Compared to Pandora’s room, the Old Wolf’s room seems…strange. For one, there isn’t a proper bed; only the fold-out couch overlooks a boxed television on the nightstand beside the desk.
I enter the door to the left. When I turn the light on, her bathroom illuminates with a flickering golden hue.
I tap the globe. The flickering stops. Interested, I tilt my head to the side and glare at the light as I notice a dark speck inside the glass.
When I take the globe off, I twist it around in my hands.
Something rattles inside. I apply heat to the glass until it glows orange and the globe shatters.
Through the shards of glass, a key hooks onto my fingertips.
Back in the main room, I scanned every corner, wondering where she would hide something of value.
When I searched it again, nothing was on or around the desk.
I was hoping there would be a false bottom.
After I shuffled through long woollen jackets, the closet also had nothing.
I even kicked at the walls in case she had patched up a part of the wall because she only needed it for emergencies.
Fucking nothing.
I face the couch after turning away from the closet, and a cruel smile reaches my lips as I stare at the hollow part of the lounge.
My hands press against it, hitting something hard. Cushions fly away with every careless toss, and then I grip the metal handle and pull out the fold-out bed until it clunks against the wooden floorboards.
Afterwards, I circle the back and glance through the gaps, noting that the couch’s fabric lifts slightly near the side of the hollow cushion.
When I apply pressure, the bed frame bends easily, and I pull out the metal box built into the couch.
I smile as the key slides in, and the lid pops open.
Documents and passports with different names, fake IDs, and birth certificates riddle the inside of the metal box. I shuffle through them when a document catches my eye. It’s not a birth certificate but a contract of sale to Nancy Drake. She’s the sole proprietor of Sweethearts Orphanage.
Makes sense now. Pandora’s birth certificate states she’s an orphan housed in that orphanage.
I disregarded it. Any hacker can botch a certificate, especially if they are a well-known smuggler known as the Old Wolf.
I didn’t think to question them. Walkyer goes there infrequently, but enough to tell me it’s a lovely orphanage, and the staff are very engaging.
Why the fuck did I listen to an oblivious Walkyer? The benefit of the doubt, I fucking guess.
My phone vibrates. Answering, I say, “Alad, that was quick. Anything?”
Alad sighs. “Her name is Pandora Hart.”
I breathe a laugh at the hitched beating of my erratic heart. “I didn’t think you would tell me this early in the investigation. What made you?”
“In the hopes you won’t kill her,” Alad says.
“Why?”
“Because she’s the last ice elemny and the commander’s daughter.”
“Means nothing to me,” I reply flatly. “She can have her head next to her father.”
“I know you’re saying cruel words hoping to gain a rise from me, Prince Reen,” Alad sighs.
“Yet, I know you better than anyone else, and the reason you still roam the walls is not for pleasure but out of pain. Remember that before you plunge your fist into the heart of the last living ice elemental.”
My lip curls, and flames lick across my shoulders. “You’re lucky I need you, or else you’ll be another fucking head on the wall.”
“It’s why I can speak so openly with you in the hope you will think about it more before killing her.”
“She dies. Nothing else matters to me besides her fate. No one harms my family and gets away with it. I do not care for her. She started this hunt, and I will ensure I end it with bloodshed. Now get the fuck back here because we are going to the Kingdom of Storm.”
“Why there?”
My lips twitch. “You know why. Withhold information from me again, and I will kill Astin.”