Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
T he hallways were empty, save a few dazed members of Otto’s human staff, as Mireille dashed down to the first floor.
The parlors and sitting rooms were similarly unoccupied, the guests sleeping off both last night’s party and this morning’s shocking performance.
She was a bit surprised to find no one else attempting to leave. Had they all been seduced by Otto’s mad promises?
She pushed through the glass double-doors, welcomed by a blast of frosty air. Rows of icicles hung from the cornice above, like dripping fangs in the morning sun.
She couldn’t get Ronin’s harsh words out of her mind.
Never pegged you for a fucking quitter .
She wasn’t quitting . She was making a prudent decision based on newly revealed information. Ruthless fucking efficiency. If Ronin couldn’t understand that, then best of luck to him.
Mireille slipped off the patio and into the gardens. The chairs had been removed, the empty flagstone square dusted with a thin covering of sugary snow. Wisps of smoke curled off the smoldering arch.
She aimed for the waist-high hedges beyond which she’d spied a path leading into the woods. She kept her footsteps slow, glancing up at the estate’s windows. If anyone saw her, she needed to appear to be on a casual stroll.
Wending down the path, she tried to not let the eerie quiet spook her. She heard not a single call of any winter bird, nor the rustle of any other small woodland creature. Snow fell from spindly evergreens, swallowing every sound save her crunching footsteps.
She’d only been walking for a few minutes before she slammed into something hard.
The air wobbled, and she cursed softly, shaking off her smarting hand and knee. She flattened a palm against the source of the vibration. The barrier was solid, yet pliable, and as she tried to force her hand through, it molded around her fingers, stretching like taffy but not breaking.
Otto had erected a security ward around the entire estate. She scolded herself for not considering the possibility. Especially after she’d experienced the effects of his wards last night.
Following along the slight shimmer in the air, she paused every few feet to check for cracks or weaknesses. She found none.
And with each pause, her panic grew. Her wolf paced within her mind, releasing soft snarls and chuffs of frustration. Claws poked at Mireille’s fingertips, her canines creasing her bottom lip.
She cracked her neck, breathing deeply and banishing her beast.
She placed her commstone beneath her ear. Maybe this close to the barrier, she could get a signal?
No luck. The stone remained cold and dead. She slipped it back into her bag.
There had to be a break in the barrier somewhere. Possibly at the front of the estate by the towering entrance gate?
She secured her bag, ready to make a run for it, when a deep voice boomed behind her.
“Where do you think you’re going, little ballerina?”
Fuck her.
Seriously. Fuck. Her.
It had taken less than twenty-four hours for Mireille to ditch Ronin. To decide she’d rather risk the wrath of Skanisse and the Emperor than see this assignment through with him.
Whatever they’d offered her must not be that enticing. And he realized just how little he knew about her when he couldn’t think of what it could possibly be.
Had they offered her wealth? A position of power? Mireille didn’t seem like the type of female who would care about either of those things. But maybe she’d been playing him all along.
She was so High-Gods-damned stubborn. And bossy. And independent to a fault. Ready to dash away without even having a proper conversation like a good partner would have done. He shouldn’t have been surprised, given that stunt she’d pulled outside Otto’s office last night.
He slouched in his chair, wishing the morning meal had come with a Delirium as he sipped his cold, bitter tea and tried to puzzle out his next move.
How would Otto react once he realized Mireille had left?
“Fuck,” he muttered, dipping his head into his hands.
Go after her , his wolf piped up.
Why? She wants nothing to do with us.
Go after her , his wolf insisted. Partners do not leave each other behind.
That’s exactly what she just did to us!
Are you five? Apologize. Grovel. Do whatever it takes. You cannot do this without her.
Thanks for the vote of confidence, asshole.
Ronin exhaled an irritated sigh. Deep down, he knew his wolf was right. If he had any chance of completing this bat-shit crazy assignment, any chance of getting the beast back, he needed to find the little she-wolf and convince her to return.
He pushed out of his chair, shrugged on his leather jacket, and went to hunt down his fucking irrational, infuriating, beautiful partner.
Adrenaline coursed through Mireille’s veins in a tingling rush, a warm contrast to the breeze biting her cheeks and tossing her copper strands.
With the barrier at her back, there was no way for her to escape the massive Beastrunner standing before her, his arms at his sides and his fists clenched. Primed for a fight.
“I… I just… I needed some fresh air. I thought we were allowed to roam the estate while we’re here.”
“You’re awfully far away from the main house.” Kosera’s voice sounded like boulders crashing together. “Why’d you come so far into the woods?” He stepped forward, her neck straining as she craned her head back. Wrath of fucking Vestan, he was the tallest Fae she’d ever met.
“I was…” Her mind spiraled, searching for a reason why she might be out here.
Every clever lie she’d ever spun eddied from her mind. She should have eaten breakfast. She was exhausted. And her mental state was in shambles after her near-death experience last night, the emotional roller-coaster of this morning’s opera performance, and the terror of Otto’s cryptic plans.
“Answer me, little ballerina,” Kosera growled, crowding her further. “Or perhaps we should go see Master Otto together?”
“No,” Mireille stammered. “Nuh-no. I came… I’m out here because I?—”
“Needed an open space to practice.” A familiar, sly voice bounded through the trees. “There you are, love. You weren’t about to start without me, were you?”
Her knees nearly buckled at the sight of Ronin traipsing through the ankle-deep snow, his marbled eyes laser-focused on her.
Kosera whipped his head around, frowning. “Practice for what?”
“That nugget of information hasn’t worked itself through the guests yet? Mireille’s been giving me dance lessons.”
Ronin stepped casually up to Kosera, and even though the Greyhorn had at least half a foot on him, Ronin’s presence loomed larger. He locked eyes with Kosera. Try me, asshole , his gaze said.
He’d gone mad. That was the only explanation Mireille could conjure. Kosera could shift, Ronin couldn’t. If the Greyhorn decided to show them both exactly why he’d earned that nickname, she doubted Ronin could fight off a five-thousand pound bull.
Kosera surveyed the woods skeptically. “Doesn’t seem like the most conducive space for a dance lesson, champ .”
“On the contrary,” Mireille piped up, stepping out from behind Kosera and placing herself between him and Ronin. “I’ve been going too easy on him. Wanted to give him the challenge of trying to keep his steps in the snow.”
Kosera’s brows pinched. “Bullshit. Show me.”
Mireille swallowed, about to open her mouth to protest, but Ronin grabbed her wrist, running a thumb across the base of her palm. Lightning shot through her veins at his touch.
He shucked off his jacket, handed it to her, then pushed up the sleeves of his tight black shirt to expose his toned forearms. “Get ready to have your mind blown,” he said, aiming a smirk at Mireille.
He stepped into a tiny clearing amidst a ring of trees, flurries tumbling around him, then closed his eyes and brought his palms together at his chest.
Kosera crossed his arms and cocked his head while Mireille said a silent prayer.
Ronin’s eyes popped open, and he launched into the most ridiculous, unhinged dance routine she’d ever seen.
He swirled his arms, kicking his legs up and throwing flakes through the air. He leapt and crouched, slamming his massive hand into the snow.
At one point, he circled his arms above his head and fluttered his feet, moving sideways with his gaze glued to Kosera. Thankfully, he didn’t turn to Mireille or she might have burst out laughing.
He spun and jumped and lunged, limbs flailing. Mireille had no idea what music he heard in his head. She struggled to find any discernible beat. But his movements were graceful and confident, despite the fact that he obviously had no idea what the fuck he was doing.
He skipped to the back of the clearing, took a deep breath, then raised onto his tiptoes—a feat in itself in his unlaced boots. Waving his arms in front of his chest, he ran forward, then leapt into the air, legs split, and landed in a crouch with his head bowed, breathing heavily.
Mireille jolted as a sharp clap echoed through the clearing. Kosera mashed his palms together as Ronin rose, wiping his hands on his pants.
“That was the worst dancing I’ve ever seen,” Kosera said. “Don’t quit your day job, Butcher.”
Ronin’s face fell, and the look of false dejection he aimed at Mireille had her choking down laughter. “I thought you said I was getting better.”
Mireille turned to Kosera. “Now you see why he needs the practice. Leave us, please. I’m sure you could tell how nervous he gets in front of an audience.”
Kosera threw his hands up and turned away, shaking his head and muttering obscenities as he stalked out of the clearing.
Mireille approached Ronin, waiting until Kosera was out of view and earshot, then doubled over in the most belly-clenching laughter she’d experienced in decades. Centuries, maybe.
Once her hilarity subsided, she glanced up at Ronin, who had the biggest, goofiest grin on his face. It was somehow even more devastating than his sly, charming ones.
“You are a fucking idiot.”
He shrugged. “It worked, didn’t it?”
“Was that the?—”
“Dying cows from your dumb ballet? Yes.” He rolled his sleeves down and she handed him his jacket.
She snickered. “Honestly, you weren’t half bad. I might be able to find a part for you next season if you’re interested.”
They continued to stare at each other, something charged passing between them before Ronin looked away and dragged a hand through his hair to brush away the flakes.
“Don’t fucking do that again,” he snapped.
“Do what ?” Her indignation instantly resurfaced.
“Run away from me. Make decisions without discussing them with me. We’re partners , Mireille. We need to be able to trust each other or we’re never going to get through this.” She sighed, and he gripped her chin, tilting her face up and forcing her to look at him. “I mean it. If we disagree about something, we talk it out. Work it out. I’m seeing this through to the end.”
Mireille scoffed. “Because you want to get your wolf back.”
She tried to pull away, but he held firm. “Yes, that’s certainly a very motivating reason.” His eyes softened. “But it’s not the only reason. Nor the most important. I’m supposed to protect you. But I can’t do that if you don’t talk to me. You’re way fucking smarter than me. If anyone is going to figure all this out, it’s you.”
She wanted to throw his statement back at him. Protest that he was taking advantage of her. Letting her do all the work while he sat back and did nothing.
But even as the words rose to her tongue, they fizzled. He had made several breakthroughs down in Kheimos. Not to mention the quick thinking he’d just demonstrated with Kosera and his willingness to make an utter fool of himself to cover for her.
“Okay,” she breathed out.
Ronin cocked his head, an incredulous look passing over his handsome face. “That’s it? Okay? You’re not going to fight me on this?”
“I… I suppose I can admit when I’m wrong,” she bit out through clenched teeth.
He patted her cheek, then pinched her nose. “Based on how difficult it looked for you to admit that, I actually believe you.” He bent down to examine her face. “You look exhausted. Come on, let’s go back to our suite so you can get some rest before we find out what nonsense Otto has in store for us next.”
“Wait.” She grabbed his wrist. “You need to see this.”
He let her lead him toward the barrier and she flattened his palm against the invisible wall.
Ronin sucked in a sharp breath. “What is this?”
“Some kind of ward. Probably what’s deactivated the commstones. It’s impenetrable. We’re locked in.”
Ronin vented a bitter laugh. “So that’s why you agreed to stay. You still want to leave, but you can’t.”
He turned to walk away from her and she grabbed his hand again.
“No, Ronin, you’re right. I’m not… I’m not good at this. At having someone else to depend on.” His brows rose. “I’m sorry I ran away without discussing it with you. I won’t do that again.”
She intertwined their fingers, and he dipped his gaze to the contact, his breath shuddering out.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “For catching me last night. And for rescuing me today when I didn’t deserve it.”
He raised their intertwined hands to his chest.
“You always deserve it, Mireille.” His face was intense. Sincere. “I’m not going to abandon you over a screw-up or two. That’s what friends do—we take on the messy shit together .”
A lump formed in Mireille’s throat, and she dug the nails of her free hand into her palm to keep from crying.
Friends .
It was a concept she was wholly unfamiliar with. No one had ever promised together to her before either. She knew it was her own fault. Knew she was the one who’d never let anyone behind her defensive walls. And perhaps it was her utter exhaustion, but she could feel them crumbling.
Here in this snowy clearing, standing before a male that she had made far too many assumptions about, she vowed to try harder. To do better. To be a good partner—a good friend —to Ronin. At least until the end of the assignment.
“Friends.” She shook his hand, then let out a tiny shriek when he scooped her into his arms. “What are you doing?”
“Friends don’t let friends trudge through the snow when they’re tired. And don’t think for a second that I’m not going to force you to eat when we get back to our suite.”
Mireille smiled against his shoulder, his leather jacket a cool comfort against her cheek. She allowed herself a rare moment to lay back and let someone else take the lead for a change.
She was surprised by how much she enjoyed it.