9. Max
MAX
Y ou’re popular, Max, the demon chimed in before I even opened my eyes. The redhead burst in like his tail was on fire. He wouldn’t let the vampire touch you again. This is better than theater.
The creature thought it was hilarious. As usual, I refused to acknowledge it.
My gaze locked onto the shifter frozen in the doorway, his chest heaving.
He must have sprinted straight from the battle without even cleaning up.
Not only did he still wear his blood-stained fatigues, but the battle thrill still burned bright in his green eyes, his pupils dilated with leftover adrenaline.
Why was he here at all? The demon had amusedly informed me earlier that this one had complained about my smell.
I wasn’t immune to shame. But these privileged princelings had no idea that when you survive on contaminated water and starvation rations your entire life, hygiene isn’t something you can ever afford.
“How are you feeling, child?” asked a beautiful woman, pulling my attention away from the shifter and the vampire.
The healer wasn’t human. That much was obvious from her otherworldly features: the pointed ears, the way magic seemed to hum around her.
She’s Fae, the demon informed me, its tone that of a teacher correcting a slow student. Like the Fae prince, Aelindor.
I hadn’t asked. But I was surprised it knew so immediately. I’d never met anyone other than humans in the mines. Yet the demon recognized other species, catalogued them. It must possess old knowledge, memories that weren’t mine.
Just as I pondered this—analyzing my inner demon and the supernaturals before me—their magical signatures lit up in my mind’s eye like constellations I’d never seen before. Each was unique. Fingerprints made of pure energy that I could somehow read and interpret.
Coldiron and all the metals no longer obscure us, the demon said with deep satisfaction. The world will see us. Hear us. Worship us. No more suppression. No more dampening.
But I didn’t want to be seen.
My hands moved before my lips could form words. I patted myself down frantically, checking, verifying. Relief washed through me when I confirmed no one had stripped me. I still wore my miner’s rag-clothes, the fabric stiff with sweat and dried blood. My chest-bind was still in place.
“You’re safe here. I’ve been guarding you,” the red-eyed monster—no, vampire—assured me in that deep, cultured voice probably designed to make sophisticated ladies swoon. “I won’t allow anyone to touch you inappropriately.”
But hadn’t he already touched me inappropriately while I was half-dead in the wasteland? His hand had kneaded my taut nipple when I’d woken. He hovered on the other side of the healer now, perfectly positioned to intervene or assist.
Still, his words carried a second meaning I almost missed.
He’d been guarding me. Not just from threats, but from discovery.
He knew my secret, and he’d made sure no one undressed me while I was out.
The healer hadn’t needed to. I could feel the residue of her magic humming beneath my skin.
Fae healing worked through flesh and bone without a blade or a bandage.
She’d mended my broken rib and sealed my blistered feet with her hands hovering above my clothes, never beneath them.
“You’re welcome,” he said. His lips pulled into an easy smile, the kind meant to hide his predatory nature and disarm anyone who should know better than to trust a vampire’s charm.
The demon was absolutely right about one thing: these men were eye candy. Beautiful, dangerous, and utter bad news for any woman. And I knew better than to trust pretty faces and honeyed words.
“Wa…” My lips trembled, barely forming the sound. My tongue felt thick and clumsy.
I’d expected pain everywhere when I woke—the rib stabbing with each breath, the raw soles burning. But none came. Just a dull ache. The healer had done impressive work while I was unconscious, work that would have taken weeks to heal naturally.
“Give him water, Ann!” the vampire barked. “The boy’s trying to say water! His lips are cracked!”
Had Ann discovered I was actually a woman while healing me? I held my breath, waiting for some sign.
“I knew what he was trying to say, Prince Nikolai.” Ann rolled her silver eyes with the long-suffering exasperation of someone who dealt with demanding royalty daily. My heartbeat evened out. “And I’m already giving him water.”
She pressed the brim of a cup against my lips gently.
I took a sip, the water’s sweetness soothing my parched throat immediately.
It was the cleanest water I’d ever tasted—no mineral aftertaste, no grit between my teeth, no chemical burn.
Just pure, clean water. I grabbed at the cup with both hands, wanting to drink it all at once, to drown myself in it, to never stop.
“Slowly,” Ann said, not letting me wrestle control away from her. “Or you’ll make yourself sick and vomit it all back up.”
But I was already sick, wasn’t I? If you counted severe dehydration, advanced starvation, and physical exhaustion as sick.
“I won’t get sick,” I said in a low, croaked voice that barely sounded human. “Just let me drink. Please.”
“Easy, tiger,” the vampire crooned. Suddenly his arm was around my shoulders, easing me into a sitting position with surprising tenderness for a predator. With his other hand, he smoothly snatched the cup from the healer before she could protest .
He was being rude to the healer. No wonder the shifter glared at him with open hostility. But I was willing to cut the vampire some slack when he actually let me have a full mouthful of water instead of just a careful sip. The cool liquid slid down my throat like salvation.
But then the cup was pulled away from my lips too soon, leaving me gasping. The shifter now held it—he’d intercepted it mid-motion with speed I hadn’t even tracked.
“Let me help you,” he said, his green eyes smiling at me, a dimple denting his cheek. He tilted the cup carefully, watching me drink as if I fascinated him.
And why did it even fucking matter who held the damn cup? These men were insane, competing over everything like it was a blood sport. I grabbed his wrist, holding him firmly in place so he couldn’t move the cup away again before I’d had my fill.
He let out a low chuckle that rumbled from his chest, and somehow that sound did something to me. Heat bloomed low in my belly. My skin flushed.
“Easy there, little lion,” he purred. “No one’s taking it away.”
“I’m not a cub.” My hands dropped from his wrist. I pulled back from the cup, just enough to glare at him.
I wished he’d drop the purring while I still felt like I was dying of thirst. It was distracting in ways I didn’t want to examine—made me feel things I had no time or energy for.
“And I’m not little. I’m taller than you. ”
Nikolai chuckled .
Ignoring the vampire prince, Caspian kept smiling at me. “Feisty. I like it.”
“Our guest clearly doesn’t appreciate being harassed,” Nikolai snapped. “And what are you doing here, Caspian? Shouldn’t you be checking the wards? Doing literally anything useful?”
“I’m here to make sure you don’t overstep, Nikolai.” Caspian didn’t back down an inch.
“I was ensuring our guest receives the best care.” Nikolai’s tone dripped with false innocence. “Leave, wolf. The patient needs rest, not a crowd.”
“Why don’t you leave, vamp?” Caspian’s smile turned sharp. “I’m sure there’s a blood bag somewhere with your name on it.”
The two kept bickering, their argument escalating over nothing at all.
I’d never heard anyone waste so much breath on trivial matters.
We miners didn’t have the luxury of squabbling like this.
Who had the time or energy to argue over who held a cup when hunger was your constant companion and you worked yourself to exhaustion every single day just to stay alive?
“The two have been like that since they were boys,” Ann said, somehow blocking out their arguing entirely. “What’s your name, child?”
I let her take the cup away without protest this time. She was right about pacing myself. I could already feel the water sitting heavy in my shrunken stomach. Clean water was precious, a gift, and I wouldn’t waste it by being greedy.
“Max Morning.” I forced my voice lower, stronger, more masculine .
Both princes quit their squabbling immediately and turned to me with expectation.
“I need to know if you found my friends.”
Please let Desta and Kaid be alive.
“You’re the only one we rescued, Max.” Nikolai’s voice held no cruelty, only honesty—and something that looked almost like sympathy in those red eyes.
“Please.” The word came out sharp, desperate, as grief clawed up my throat. “There were four of us when we started out. Two of them might still be…”
Before I could finish my desperate plea, heavy footsteps rushed toward the room. A moment later, Aelindor and the dragon prince strode through the doorway like they owned the place.
Their gazes shifted from Caspian and Nikolai to me, assessing. Aelindor’s expression was cool as ice, but the dragon’s stare held open distrust. Something darker lurked there too.
Every muscle in my body went rigid. It wasn’t just that the dragon man could shift into a massive beast capable of tearing me apart. I couldsensehis hatred rolling off him in waves. If I stood too close, I wouldn’t just get hurt. I’d be destroyed.
Ann bowed deeply to Aelindor. “Your Highness.” Then she nodded at the dragon with less warmth. “Prince Drakken.”
“Great.” Nikolai threw his hands up. “It’s a party.”
“Didn’t your dragon fly off to bathe in that spring of yours?” Caspian narrowed his green eyes on Drakken. “How did you possibly get back so fast? That’s at least a ten-minute flight. ”
“It was a ruse.” Drakken looked smug. “I sensed your lies. You’ve never hurried like your tail was on fire before—not even in the middle of a pitched battle. So I persuaded my dragon to delay his bath and tracked you here.”