Chapter 47 Malec
Malec
I’ve been standing outside that stripper room for at least twenty minutes, and my patience is thinning by the second.
She never told me the full plan—only that she’d get the information once she was inside. And she didn’t lie.
Her soul didn’t change. It’s still too loud, still too shaky for me to read exactly what’s going on in her mind—but it’s hers. And it’s steady.
I’m not budging from my spot, even if I don’t know why I’m bothering to follow her lead in the first place.
But if I can get what I need fast and hit the Red Dock without starting a war over a stupid club, I guess I’ll stand here a little longer.
The door handle clicks behind me, unlocking. I spin. “Finally. What took you so—”
The words die in my throat.
It’s Roran—I’d recognize her soul in the darkest depths of the sea—but she’s different.
She’s wearing a long pink wig, a black mask shaped like butterfly wings, glitter dusting her cheeks and lips painted a blinding neon pink.
My gaze drops lower—glitter smears her breasts, pushed up by a bra that barely qualifies as fabric, wings spread like a costume. The matching panties are tighter than sin.
“You…” I rasp, low and guttural, fighting every instinct to slam her against the wall. My cock hardens instantly.
“Who’s that?” a tall half-naked woman—stripper—steps out behind her, eyeing me curiously, but I don’t even spare her a glance.
Because Roran looks like a fucking goddess who just crawled out of my darkest fantasy, and I can’t even touch her.
She bites her lower lip again. Nervous.
Fuck. Merhell. She’s going to drive me insane.
“Don’t.” My voice is low, dangerous. I take a step forward.
She takes one back.
The woman clears her throat awkwardly.
Roran snaps out of it and turns to her, forcing a laugh. “That’s… my cousin. He’s helping me.”
“Cousin my ass—”
Her hand slides behind me and pinches my back hard.
I hiss through my teeth but nod stiffly to the woman, not even faking a smile.
“Norvax is in his regular suite. I’ll cancel the guard who’s supposed to escort me. Does your cousin know how to get to the safe room?” The woman's eyes flick between us, sensing the tension.
Regular suite. Take her there.
Wait.
“Yeah. I’ll show him everything,” Roran replies smoothly. “Act normal. Stay in your room until I call.”
The woman nods and closes the door, leaving us alone in the corridor.
“You’re not fucking serious,” I snap. “No. Go change. Now.” My pulse spikes as I realize exactly why she was so sure she could get him to talk.
He’s not going to see her like this.
Hell no.
No one but me is going to see her like this.
“Now, Roran.” My voice thunders through the hallway. Her mask shifts slightly as she raises an eyebrow beneath it.
“No. You need the Red Dock just as much as I do.”
She leans closer. My breath catches in my throat.
“They’re holding Diana there. She could die any second while we waste time arguing,” she whispers.
She’s holding her ground.
But so am I.
“You go change. I’ll get it out of him myself,” I growl. “You’re not dancing for that motherfucker.”
I feel my marks begin to itch, the heat of rage rushing over my skin.
“We’re close, do you need—”
“No.” I shut Myko down, inhaling sharply through my nose.
“Malec, your forehead is… glowing?” Roran steps closer, squinting—but then covers her ears with both hands like she’s hearing something awful.
I spin around, taking a few deep breaths to calm myself before I face her again.
“You’re not going in there,” I repeat.
“You promised to follow my plan. And I won’t let it go too far,” she says softly as she lowers her hands. “Do you trust me?”
Her voice trembles slightly. Her eyes plead—not demand this time.
I curse under my breath. “I wish I didn’t,” I mutter. “But the second I don’t like what I see—it’s my turn. And it’s not a question.”
“Malec—”
“Show me what you need me to do,” I cut her off. That bastard is already on my killing list. He just doesn’t know it yet.
She blinks, clearly not expecting me to cave so fast. But this isn’t surrender.
It’s a warning.
“You’ll be in the safe room,” she explains. “That’s where the escorting guard monitors the VIP suites, makes sure everyone follows the rules.”
She turns and walks quickly back the way we came, but instead of opening the main door again, she presses a panel on the wall. A soft click. A hidden door opens.
She gestures for me to follow.
The only sound inside is the clicking of her ridiculously pink heels. Her ass bounces in that glittery excuse of underwear, and I fight the urge to pull her back and do something we’ll both regret.
I don’t have many regrets. But this might become one.
“That son of a bitch,” I mutter under my breath, only realizing I spoke aloud when she glances at me with a raised brow.
Her eyes behind the mask flick to me.
“I can’t curse now, too?” I retort.
Her lips twitch up for the first time today. Then a beep pulls my attention to the wall.
Five screens flicker on, showing empty VIP rooms. All but one.
One room has a bastard, I now memorise his face. Right into my list of no return.
“This panel here is for emergencies. Five rooms, five lights, numbered by these stickers,” she says, pointing at each one. The screen’s dim light casts moonlight-like glimmers on her glittering skin.
“The one Novax likes is number three. I’ll be there.” She points at the screen now. “That hallway behind that black curtain leads to the rooms,” she adds, nodding toward it.
“Don’t enter unless it’s a real emergency. We need the info. You can hear everything if you press this.” She clicks a black switch by Novax’s screen. He’s just sitting there smoking, scrolling through his phone like the cheap bastard he is.
I inhale—just to keep it together.
“No one comes in here but us?”
She nods. “Tatiana canceled the guard. We’ve got one hour before the next girl’s VIP session. It’s just us. Don’t worry—I know this place better than anyone.”
I roll my eyes.
“Like you knew about the four men out back?”
“Ha. Funny. That wasn’t on me—no one ever sends them to the back door. That’s the entrance just for the girls,” she huffs, planting her hands on her glittery hips.
She’s getting more demanding—and gods help me, it keeps turning me on.
“You should always expect the worst. You can’t afford to be caught off guard.”
No idea why I bother explaining—but she waves me off.
“Yeah. There won’t be a next time.”
“Don’t be so sure—”
“We don’t have time,” she snaps, pushing the curtain aside. “I’m going in. Stay here.”
She disappears behind the curtain, and I’m left blinking at the silence—and the hard-on she just left me with.
Fucking pathetic. Not now!
Now it’s too quiet without her soul buzzing around me. I got used to it. I notice how its absence leaves a hollow, a dark shiver I can feel even without looking. Mom used to say there’s no cure once you’ve been consumed that long. The thought wedges in my chest.
Wait. Did Grandma take merfolk blood, too? Is that why their souls look the same? The question hangs when a voice cuts across it—low, rough, and laced with something like amusement.
“Hi there, little human…”
The voice slaps me back to attention—lower, rougher, seductive.
I spin the chair and sit, eyes locked on the monitor. Roran walks slowly toward the pole.
Little human?
“Oh, there you are, my little fairy.”
Novax tosses his phone aside. His grin flashes yellowed, mended teeth—and I want to shatter them.
‘Little fairy.’ That’s his game. That’s why she’s wearing that unicorn-puked nightmare.
My nostrils flare. The heat rises in my chest, crawling up my neck like it’s trying to claw its way out. My pulse drums louder, louder, until it drowns everything else. Then it starts—
My mark begins to glow.
Shit. I’m losing control again.
This time, I don’t fight it down. But I won’t let it consume me either. Not yet.
Focus.
Get the merfolk out.
Destroy the Red Dock.
Kill that motherfucker.
That’s the plan.
My pulse pounds in my throat. I breathe steadily, watching her.
She grabs the pole, leans her breasts against it, and tilts her head back. “What magic potion am I going to use on my human today?” she purrs.
Perfect ass. Inches from his soon-to-be-dead face.
Not happening.
“Malec!” Myko growls in my mind. “Don’t lose it now. Onyx is worried about her brother. We can’t let her emotions slip. Red Dock first.”
I curse him out, but he doesn’t even groan this time. He knows he won.
That smug bastard ogling her.
I want to choke her for this plan.
“You weak shit can’t even touch her without your human excuse of a reproductive organ glowing like Chris’s emergency lightstick. Stop lying to yourself.”
“You’re not gonna let me have it today, huh?” I mutter.
Myko snorts.
“That’s what you get for calling me delusional sushi. Remember that next time.”
Great. Another sassmouth to babysit.
“Wait—shut up.” I lean toward the screen. She’s pouring something in his drink, bending low so her ass brushes past his face.
She’s drugging him. That’s her plan.
No. No, no, no. “Myko, we need her out now. She should’ve told me!”
Whoever works for Fedor is trained for this shit. He’ll notice. She won’t make it out alive.
Fucking merhell. What are you thinking, Roran!?
“No,” Myko growls. “She’s not worth the risk. Luca says they’ll move the Red Dock’s location again—we’ll lose it.”
“She—”
“Malec! You’ve done your part. Let her do hers! She asked you to trust her herself.”
My body burns, light blinding around me as rage explodes in every nerve. I keep breaking promises.
I keep risking everything for this—their—‘greater purpose’ bullshit.
I’m no hero. Never signed up to be. And I don’t care anymore.
She’s not dying.
And Fedor’s not getting his hands on her again.
“Malec!”