Chapter 37 Aerin
AERIN
The Zeneith Royal Village has an old feel to it—pristine and polished, yet aged.
Particularly compared to the abundance of technology and magic Aerin is used to in Valtara.
Malice is in the next room, while Emrys sits on the edge of the tub behind her, in his Fae form.
Aerin curls her hair in one of the many bathrooms in Khortland’s wing.
The day was long, full of acting. Acting at the tube station.
Acting in front of Khortland. Acting at that heinous press conference.
And now, they are getting ready to head out into the nightlife for even more.
Feeding the press and feeding her father.
Making certain no one suspects they are doing anything in Zeneith but celebrating summertime and being young, in the reckless and careless way Aerin is known for.
The truth is they have a lot to get done apart from the acting.
There are still too many questions, and Aerin hopes the creatures in the North will be more forthcoming than those in her home city.
And perhaps more knowledgeable. Almost everything Aerin has learned about herself was shared with her here, in the North.
Aerin swallows her nerves before calling Malice to join them. The Dragon-Fae begrudgingly leans against the doorway, arms folded over his chest.
“We need to make the most of our time here,” Aerin says, curling another piece of her golden hair.
“We achieved our main goal.” Aerin glances at Emrys in the mirror, he doesn’t meet her eyes.
She has a feeling their little show affected him more than she anticipated.
The amount of things Aerin is saving to deal with later grows by the hour.
“But there are still resources here that we won’t have access to in the South,” Aerin explains.
“You want to look for answers,” Malice concludes.
“We need to understand how I was able to form a pack with Emrys. We need to understand how the blood-bond is affecting us and our powers. I need to figure out what else my father has been hiding from me,” Aerin explains.
A short and totally achievable list. She almost snorts to herself at the thought.
“And how do you propose we achieve those lofty goals?” Malice asks, sarcasm in his tone.
Aerin casts him a glare through the mirror.
“Vyx, Quinn, and Khortland are working on some aspects, but as for us, we need to find another Alpha. There are more Alphas in the North. Ones that don’t hate us,” Aerin clarifies, “And ones that aren’t nearly as hostile towards Fae.”
“That’s a bad idea,” Emrys says immediately.
“I concur,” Malice adds.
Aerin slaps the curling iron down on the counter a bit too hard.
“I don’t really care,” she snaps. Then she takes a trembling breath, and both males lean towards her, each a moment away from rushing her. “I need to understand what all this means. I need to understand why.” Aerin’s voice wavers, much to her chagrin.
She turns to face them. “In all our research, everything says only Wolves can form a pack. Only someone with Wolf magic in their blood. I know neither of you is too dense to understand the implications of that.”
“You think you aren’t full-blooded Fae?” Malice asks, incredulous.
“I don’t know!” Aerin snaps at him. “It doesn’t make sense that my Fae magic challenged Elara’s Pack magic.
But if I’m not my father’s daughter… if my mother somehow stepped out on him with a Wolf and passed me off as full-blooded Tolvare, do you know what that means? ” Hope crests through her chest.
“It means you wouldn’t have to fight for your freedom,” Emrys says softly.
“Exactly.”
Aerin imagines a world where she isn’t a Tolvare, was never really a Tolvare to begin with. It makes her chest ache. And it would explain her father’s obsession with her. Maybe he knows she isn’t his daughter, or maybe he suspects something. Something that makes her different from her siblings.
“I hate to burst your bubble, Princess,” Malice says, “But you look just like him. You are a Tolvare; it’s written in your every feature.”
“Maybe he changed me somehow, to look like them, or my mother did. I don’t know.” Aerin grasps at straws as Malice pokes holes in her theory.
“Don’t you think your father would have revoked your claim to the throne as an infant, rather than find some magical way to change your appearance forever,” Malice counters.
“I don’t know, Malice!” Aerin snaps for a second time. She pinches the bridge of her nose and takes a deep breath.
When Emrys lays a hand on her arm, Aerin flinches and realizes she’s trembling.
“I don’t know. I wouldn’t put anything past my father. But I do know that confirming things with another Alpha will get us closer to the truth. Preferably an older Alpha. Any ideas?” She looks back and forth between the two of them.
Emrys shakes his head. “The Alpha of my first pack wouldn’t know anything, and even if he did, he wouldn’t help us.”
Malice sighs, tightening the fold of his arms, his muscles bulging.
“I may know someone. Let me put some feelers out, see if he is in the area.”
“Thank you,” Aerin says softly.
“Don’t thank me yet, Princess,” Malice says, before turning on his heel and leaving the room. The click of the door shutting behind him echoes.
Aerin starts shoving things down inside of her.
Malice’s meltdown this morning. The hurt in Emrys’s eyes during the press conference.
The way he has been in Fae form since she ordered him around like a show pony.
Her father, the dissolved contract, the way Bruin’s betrayal still feels like a knife in her back despite missing him desperately.
How some sick part of her misses her life before, when she was bound to a contract she hated but there was nothing to do.
Now it feels like she has a million things she needs to achieve, no clear way to achieve them, and too many creatures relying on her to do so.
Aerin shoves that down too.
As Aerin follows the extensive group from the Royal Village later that night, she isn’t feeling much better. Malice still isn’t back from ‘putting out his feelers,’ and Emrys has barely spoken two words to her since this afternoon.
“You’re looking especially grumpy,” Vyx comments, coming up on one side of Aerin as they make their way towards whichever club Quinn decided on.
Up ahead, Emrys walks with her, commenting occasionally as Quinn babbles.
Farther ahead, Khortland, his older brother Yarrow who is third in line for the throne, and some of the other Zeneith noble children lead the way. Hale Royal Guards follow at their back.
Aerin leans closer to her friend. “Please tell me you have Pixie Dust somewhere under that tight dress.” Vyx laughs as Aerin grimaces.
“Of course I do.” She squeezes Aerin’s arm. “We’ll see if you even remember how to have fun,” Vyx goads.
“I desperately need to have fun tonight. I need to forget about all this…” Aerin waves her hand vaguely. “Bullshit.”
“Consider it done,” Vyx promises.
The group approaches the doors of a packed nightclub, the line wrapping around the side of the building. Upon seeing the Aerin and the Hale Princes a roar of noise erupts. Aerin finds herself missing Malice.
As if the thought conjures him, the Dragon-Fae materializes from the shadows of the alleyway while Khortland chats with the bouncer.
“Miss me?” he asks softly in her ear, his body close enough to warm her back.
Aerin turns to face him, to look him in those ice blue eyes.
“Were you able to do it?” she asks, keeping her voice low.
“Yes, we will meet him outside the city walls mid-day tomorrow,” Malice replies. Relief flows across Aerin’s body like hot honey.
“The answer to your question is yes,” Aerin answers. Malice’s eyes burn a bit brighter.
“Let’s go.” Vyx grabs Aerin’s hand, pulling her towards the entrance. Aerin lets her but keeps her eyes on her bonded-mate as long as she can.
Vyx doesn’t lead Aerin to the VIP table in the back where the rest of the group gathers.
Instead, she grabs Quinn and the girls veer to the left.
Aerin watches Malice grab Emrys’s wrist, murmuring something in the Wolf’s ear when he tries to follow them.
Aerin is grateful; she’s never broached the subject of her occasional drug use with Emrys.
Pixie Dust is something she started after signing the blood contract.
They push into the bathroom. Aerin blocks the door with her magic. Like so many other nights in clubs like this, Vyx pulls out a small baggy of pink shimmering powder and Aerin hands her a blade to cut the lines.
“Your Wolf is quite cute. What’s up with that?” Quinn asks, batting her green eyes at Aerin.
Vyx shoots her a glare. “Absolutely not, Quinn,” she chastises her cousin, cutting the first line.
Quinn shrugs. “What? I’ve never laid a Wolf before.”
“None of us have laid a Wolf before,” Vyx says incredulously.
Aerin puts a hand on Vyx’s shoulder, and the Viper steps back from the counter, making room for Aerin to take her line.
“Not none,” Aerin corrects, rubbing her nose to ease the burn. Both sets of green eyes flash to her. Aerin gives them a smile and shrugs.
“I used to fuck Em before, when I would sneak outside of the walls.” Before she’d befriended the Vipers.
“Jeez, Rin,” Quinn says, mouth agape. Vyx snorts her line.
“Want another?” Vyx asks Aerin, who nods in response as Quinn takes her own line.
“Woo!” Quinn shouts as she stands, “So! Was Emrys before or after Theoden?”
“Is this memory lane?” Aerin asks, wishing she had a drink. The first line is already going to her head.
Quinn gives her a faux-innocent smile. “I’m just trying to figure out which one you had sex with first.”
Vyx laughs. “Not this again.” She hides the bag once more, returning the blade to Aerin, who slides it into the heel of her shoe.
Aerin takes her second line. When she stands, her head spins in the best way. She grins at her friends.