Chapter 32
The handle on the door rattles. I flinch at the sound before moving the dagger closer to me while I eye the door. Muffled voices, indescribable to my ears, call from outside before the latch locking the door clicks. The door opens and then closes after they enter.
I shrink lower behind the boxes, and my hitched breaths continue even as Prince Reen moves past the closet and opens the door to the bathroom. When he’s out of sight, he mutters a hint of a complaint and returns.
Many thoughts swarm when he stands in front of the closet and grabs the handles. Do I pounce out from undercover with the dagger and hope to sink it into his neck before he sees me coming? I can also wave the white flag in a “please don’t kill me” way.
But before I ponder it, Prince Reen thrusts the doors open. His hair clings to his face, sipping wet. Red eyes glaze over the boxes before he opens the dresser and takes out a bath towel. My shoulders ease when he closes the door and enters the bathroom again.
What the fuck should I do? Are we already moving?
I don’t know if we’re still docked within the Kingdom of Storm or in the open sea!
If I could move the boxes and peek between the gaps, I could see the window to confirm.
But it’s too risky. There’s a chance he might leave the bathroom door and see me fucking hanging out like a snake.
No. I can’t do anything now, especially when he’s around.
The door opens twenty minutes later. My eyes widen, and my mouth drops to the floor when he moves across the opening naked. Steam clings to his shoulders, as well as his tight, contracting muscles covered with old scars. He wears a pendant with the five elemental-coloured symbols on it.
Then, daringly—I mean, who fucking wouldn’t—my focus falls between his legs. Flush, burning with intense heat, scorches my cheeks at the size of his dick. It’s as long as my forearm on a fucking floppy. He must be breaking vaginas with fucking ease with that thing!
The fuck.
Some girls at the academy used to talk about which prince had the biggest dick. Most agreed that Prince Emmerton had the smallest, but they said he must know how to use it, giving him a few brownie points. Prince Walkyer’s is more or less above average, but likely doesn’t know how to use it.
Come to think of it, they spoke more about Prince Emmerton. Prince Reen was never brought up because they didn’t seem to care for him. But I see it, and it’s packing more than above average. It’s unrealistically huge, and…
I’m a fucking pervert, aren’t I?
He dresses in grey sweatpants, and his entire body has dried from the heat emanating from his skin. Even his hair fluffs and doesn’t seem to have a hint of dampness as he shrugs a T-shirt over his head and covers his bare body.
The phone on the bed vibrates. Prince Reen picks up the phone and places it on speaker before tossing it back onto the bed. “What do you want, brother?”
“Did you find her?”
“I have a lead. It’s enough,” Reen says. “Why? Do you worry I will kill her before you speak to her?”
“Yes.”
Prince Reen pauses from his pacing and eyes the phone. His lips tug into a frown, and there’s a hint of irritation when his brows knit together. He briefly feels it, then shrugs and paces again.
“How’s your new role as king?”
“Annoying. Do you know how many contracts I have created because Emmerton considers the castle a brothel? I can’t keep seeing Diana every waking moment. It’s exhausting.”
“Have you considered a wife?” Prince Reen asks. “Or are you still waiting for the perfect girl for you?”
There’s silence for a moment before he replies, “I’m holding off until after you have, uh…Pandora.”
Prince Reen stops pacing, and his jaw clenches. “You don’t even know her, yet you’re still fixated on a woman who killed our mother.”
“It could be a misunderstanding. You told me she’s an ice elemny. There are justifiable reasons for her—”
“You’re acting just like Alad,” Prince Reen retorts sharply.
“She murdered our mother. The penalty must be death, brother. I’m not interested in your infatuation, nor Alad’s fixation on a damn unawakened girl who’d betray you to get what she desires.
Forget about her and marry Pavlina or whoever else! ”
“Pavlina’s an old friend,” King Walkyer says, and I hear the utter confusion. “But whatever. As long as you understand I want her back here alive, I will leave you to your hunt.”
Prince Reen hangs up without answering King Walkyer.
Did I hear that correctly, though? Do I have a freakish secret admirer? How? Did I meet him somewhere? If so, where? They weren’t talking about me, were they? It has to be another elemny called Pandora…who’s an ice elemny…and killed his parents.
What the fuck? When did I meet King Walkyer? Did I miss something in my life? Well, I know my memory is dogshit, but still…They have returned to me, and none of them has him in them. I have more memories of that mutt than King Walkyer.
I want to groan and drag my hand down my face in utter confusion.
Okay, Pandora. Think of the positives. Right. Prince Reen can’t kill me. At least there’s a chance. King Walkyer wants me alive. That’s all that matters. I will stay alive until my trial. Then Prince Reen will kill me without caring whether King Walkyer wants me alive or dead.
So, yes, I will be alive for a time, but not for long. The mutt seems adamant about wanting me dead. I sense the animosity and hunger for my flesh rippling through his skin. He won’t let me leave once this is over.
The best course of action is to get the fucking passport in the Fountain of Silver and slip into the Kingdom of Cloud, hiding there for a time until his hunt steers him somewhere else. Then, I will escape to…where? They know I am an ice elemny. How?
No, it doesn’t matter.
What matters is that they know, so going to the Kingdom of Crystal would be a bad idea until I awaken. Then, I can build a fortress with pink crystals and hide in Elden Keep. It’s where my sister’s body lies, but whatever. If Prince Reen wants to go there and fight me, it will be on my terms.
Until then, I need to know where we are and how much information Maya has given them. Even if she has provided them with the location, would she give them the exact place I need to go? What are my chances of gaining the passport without Prince Reen being there?
Shifting out of my thoughts, Prince Reen sits on the edge of the bed and sighs.
His hands clasp together, and the veins bulge in his arms when he tenses them.
Dark red eyes glower at the ground, deep in thought.
He remains in that position for what seems like an eternity.
Then, he shuffles back, rests on the pillow, and places his arms over his face.
Deep breaths help to relax the tightened muscles, and he falls asleep.
I bite my bottom lip at this greedy excitement withering inside me at the prospect of sneaking down from the shelf and slitting his throat as he sleeps.
My fingers twitch at the idea, but I muster the strength to overcome the bloodlust and wait it out.
Instead, I watch him until I realise we are moving.
The sound of heavy rain turns into a drizzle, and silver light seeps into the window and drinks against Prince Reen’s golden skin.
Quick breaths hitch after some time, and the arms across his face move. Prince Reen rises like the fucking dead. Thin sheets cling to him when he sits upright, and through the light from the window, sweat glistens down his forehead.
Fire elemny rarely sweat. That’s what Xavier told me. So, a nightmare? Can he have nightmares? He is the fucking nightmare!
He shrugs off his damp shirt and tosses it in my direction.
I jump slightly at the sound of the shirt hitting the door.
The bed creaks when he stands. Taking a cigarette out of the first drawer of the bedside table, he presses it to his lips and snaps his fingers.
Flames dance around his fingers. He inhales deep puffs, and an orange spark glows.
Smoke moves in tendrils as he takes a deep breath and then exhales wisps of it through his nose and mouth.
Dark eyes glow in the darkness, holding terror within them.
Then, the glassy reflection becomes solid; his relaxed shoulders tighten, and his face turns guarded.
“Why her?” he says after another puff of smoke. My brow furrows, and I tilt my head to the side, wondering who he’s talking about. “I hate owing anyone.”
I press my lips inward and stifle a laugh. For a moment, I thought he was about to ramble on about some fucking girl or love interest—whatever. Little did I know that the prospect of being in someone’s debt bothered him.
Maya? It’s possible that it’s not connected to the hunt. He can get lost in thought, thinking about some woman.
Everyone called Prince Reen a mutt with no emotions at the academy.
An elemny who yearns for a hunt. But here he is, sweating in his sleep and irritated by the thought of owing someone.
I doubt anyone sees this side of him. I’m lucky to get a front-row seat because I am stuck in a closet through my own doing!
With a yawn, I rest my head on my arms. My body sinks, and it’s hard to keep my eyes open any longer.
So, I drift off to sleep, but somewhere through the night, amid the bitter dreams of painful fire, warmth spreads across my cheek.
The nightmares of the past flee, and through the comforting flames, I kneel in the snow with Desmond beside me.