Chapter 24
ALEK
Neopal straightened when I finally answered the door. Then he bowed.
“Oh, cut the shit,” I said, leaning against the door frame with my arms folded. “I’ve watched you wrestle a greased-up pig for three coppers, Neopal—a match you lost—and that earned my respect more than anything you do now.”
He inhaled high in his chest as he rose tall again. “Optimistically, we’ve come to collect the human’s remains, but judging by your appearance, I see we’ll be serving him a meal instead.”
“Yes, you will. Just the way he likes it, too.” I twisted around to ask Feloré, “How do you like your meals, love?”
“Preferably, served by a high-level commander,” he answered, and I couldn’t help but grin. Clever, clever thing.
“You’re in luck,” I said, gesturing to Neopal. “We have one here. He’s more than happy to fetch you anything you wish.”
Neopal’s nostrils flared.
“Tell the commander what it is you want, darling.”
“I could really go for another one of those cakes,” Feloré said. “The little chocolate spongey one, dusted in sugar.”
“Did you hear that?” I asked, just as obnoxious as possible. “Sponge cake.”
“I heard,” Neopal said.
“And while you’re at it,” I grinned, “bring us a bottle of the bubbling plum wine my father keeps flowing for his parties. You know the one. It’s expensive and rare. Has he invited you to try a taste yet?”
He rubbed his nose, averting his gaze.
“No? Well, that’s odd. You would think being so close to him, he’d treat you more like a friend. But I guess true friendship is as rare as plum wine.”
He dragged his gaze from me to nod back over his shoulder. “You heard the prince. He requires wine. And cake.”
Two of the servants promptly scuttled off.
“If it suits you,” Neopal said, lifting his chin, “we’d like to enter.”
I stepped aside while he strode past me, halting hard when he came face to face with Feloré. I’d noticed all vultae tended to have that reaction to him. It was difficult to tell why, but it was like we all just needed a moment to calibrate around his unusual energy.
“What happened to his hand?” Neopal asked.
I glanced at Feloré’s hand, seized by the memory of ripping one of my shirts to shreds last night as he let me gently wrap it. “Oh, it was the silliest of mishaps. Why, he was getting ready to eat, and—”
“I cut it,” Feloré said. “I cut it with Alek’s knife.”
Neopal’s eyes rounded. “Why, human?”
My brows drew together as I frowned at Feloré. Yes, why, human? We hadn’t agreed to tell anyone about that, let alone this prick.
But something naughty glinted in Feloré’s eye. “Well, has no one read A Magnificent Constitution?”
Neopal blinked. Which meant he hadn’t.
Feloré lowered his chin. The way he gazed up at Neopal through his lashes was almost submissive. Definitely sexy. He puckered his lips a little, making them all pouty, and what the fuck was he doing? I didn’t like it. I didn’t like it one bit.
“It’s a book,” he said, slinking a step toward Neopal. Dare I even say prancing. “It’s a book about your incredible bodies. For example, did you know that each time you kiss a new human, it’s believed to add a full day to your life? Isn’t that fun?”
My eyes bulged. Fun? No, it wasn’t fucking fun. But Neopal must’ve thought so, because two of his fingers twitched and I wanted to rip his head off his body.
“Last night, I was in bed with the prince,” Feloré said, holding his gaze, “and I was touching myself.”
My shoulders jerked, but luckily Neopal wasn’t facing me. He was entranced by my fucking human, who was still gliding toward him, sex permeating from him like goddamn incense.
“You were t-touching yourself?” Neopal stuttered. “Why?”
“To heal the prince’s wound, of course. From his tragic wild boar accident.”
Neopal’s head swiveled to me, his sharp gaze wandering down my side.
“And all I had to do,” Feloré said, just the gentlest graze of his fingertips across Neopal’s cheek to grip his attention once more, “was come really, really hard as I cut myself. And I did. I came so hard.”
I twitched like I’d been struck with a hot iron, but Neopal didn’t see it. He couldn’t pull his attention from my Snow Fox as he licked the corner of his mouth like drool was slipping from it.
“Thank the gods, it’s completely healed this morning,” Feloré said, gesturing to me. “See for yourself.”
Oh, shit. It was suddenly clear what he was doing. He was proving what I’d been saying for months.
I parted my shirt when Neopal locked eyes with me.
His face lost a shade of color as he observed the scar, and when he spoke again, it was with genuine awe in his voice. “How did you…? How did you force him to do that?”
“Force? Silly, Neopal.” I clicked my tongue. “See, that is the difference between you and me. Between me and my father. I don’t have to use force.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed.
“See, force doesn’t prove that you’re smarter or superior in any way.”
He slowly pinched his lips into a tight line.
“It only proves that you’re an asshole.” I winked. “But we already knew that.”
Neopal blinked in silence for an eternity, and for a moment, I could’ve sworn something sparked behind his stoic eyes. I almost saw the friend he used to be. Almost.
“The plum wine, My Lord.”
We all twisted to the man with a white hat holding a silver bucket, slick with condensation.
He bowed his head as he asked, “Would you like it opened?”
“That’d be lovely,” I said, grinning at Neopal. “Pour two glasses. One for me. And one for my gracious human guest.”
Neopal stared at Feloré, who sat himself at the desk, flapping a napkin as he surveyed the food set before him like he’d already moved on. But he hadn’t. He was so clearly eavesdropping, because what he just made was the first move in a brilliant game. Brilliant.
“See?” I stepped in closer to Neopal, switching to Vultaen, because it didn’t matter. My brilliant human could understand. “If I wanted to fuck this human, then I would’ve done it last night when he was coming all over his own stomach.”
Luckily, the twitch that struck my body was in the wrist I had pinned behind my back. His was in his nose.
“The way you all fawn over him, you think it’d be difficult for me to reject. I’m telling you, it was easy. I felt nothing. How do you explain that?”
He blinked at the floor, switching to Vultaen as he muttered, “I don’t know. I honestly don’t.”
“Because he is not the one.” My body wanted to scream at the lie. The monster wanted to claw its way up my throat and yell LIE, but I forced myself to swallow it down. “Tell my father to drop this ridiculous spectacle and release this human. He’ll listen to you.”
He sucked his cheeks, stealing another glance at Feloré who was sealing his lips around a forkful of cake, eyes rolling shut in delight.
“Look at me, Neopal,” I said. “I need to get out of this room. I’m running out of time. Surely, you can appreciate that much.”
He bounced a little, agitation twisting his lips into a grimace. “Gods, what do you want? What will finally please you?”
I cocked my head, arching an eyebrow.
“You have an entire kingdom holding their breath, willing to break laws to save your life. If not him, then what the fuck do you want?”
I didn’t let my face reflect how the irony was nearly palpable. This whole time, I’d pretended to be waiting for the perfect person only to find him. He was as perfect as a human could get.
“I’ll know it when I see it.” I took a breath and forced myself to say, “He’s not the one.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, dragging a hand down his face. When he spoke again, he nearly sounded defeated, the word pushing past his lips on the tail-end of a sigh, “Fine.”
My eyes flared wide.
“I will tell the king what I have seen today, and I will recommend that we continue our search. That’s all I can do.”
I inclined my head, holding back a smile as I said, “Very well.”
Neopal whistled at the servants who were tidying up my room. They jolted, lining up to bow before me. Neopal cast one more sidelong glance at Feloré, who’d proceeded to eat, none the wiser.
Then he was gone.
Feloré’s energy instantly shifted the moment I sealed the door shut, his face all lit up with the eager words he was dying to say.
I held a finger to my lips, ear pressed to the door. Once the footsteps vanished into the distance, I spun around, leaning back against it, letting my face split into a grin as I said, “You fucking fox.”
“Yes?” The chair screeched when he rose from the desk. “You think it worked? You think he’ll really speak to your father?”
“Oh, darling.” My gaze fell down his body as he began to creep toward me, expression a bit unhinged. “I think it worked brilliantly. I think you are brilliant.”
His smile widened, matching mine as he moved even closer, his joy bright, like beams of light were surrounding him. “Because you think your father will listen?”
“If there’s anyone he’ll listen to,” I said, “it’s that asshole.”
He nodded quickly, inching closer. Faster. “I’m going to hug you now.”
My body twitched in anticipation. “Please fucking do—”
I grunted when he flung himself into my arms. Oh, fuck, I would let myself have this. I would let myself bury my face in his neck, my arms encircling him as I lifted his body from the floor.
To him, it was probably nothing. A simple way to express excitement.
To me, it thrilled me to my core. Holding him was something my soul craved. Something I wasn’t sure I’d ever get to do as I squeezed him tightly, swinging him in a circle while his feet caught air and the chain swirled around us.
“Okay, that’s enough,” he said, chuckling, the sound absolutely precious. “I didn’t mean to—put me down. You’re going to get yourself worked up.”
“Shh, Snow Fox,” I said, spinning him once again. His body fit so snugly inside my arms. “You’ll get me worked up.”
“Prince.” He squirmed, but he was still snickering. “That is quite enough. You’re still a dangerous creature—”
“So dangerous.”
“—and we have to be careful not to overstep. You only have seven cigarettes.” He slapped my arms. “That’s not many, and I can feel you twitching.”
True. My chest was twitching like I was being squeezed by an electric eel. “I will put you down under one circumstance.”
“What could you possibly want? His royal neediness is what I shall call you.”
I reluctantly set him on his feet, still holding his waist as I said, “You’ll drink the kingdom’s most expensive plum wine with me while you play me in cards.”
He pushed my hands off. “I don’t drink.”
I returned them to his waist. “Me neither.”
“And even if I did,” he said, swatting my hands, wiggling from my grip, “drinking with you would be reckless.”
“Unbelievably reckless.”
“Dangerous.”
“So fucking dangerous.”
The look he pinned me with was rewarding. I’d come to work hard just to see it. It wasn’t quite the elusive Snow Fox smirk, but it was equally as bratty. Charmingly fiery.
Especially as he said something like, “It better not taste like shit.”