Chapter 29 Carwynn
CARWYNN
A cinderblock of weight plummeted in my stomach as panic swept in.
This was too much. I felt too much.
Breena and Aine simultaneously stilled, trailing the direction of my widened eyes.
“I. Knew. It!” Breena shrieked, pointing an accusatory finger in my face.
Aine shook her head in mock disappointment.
“Ya little liar!” she tsked, half-amused, half-condemning. “I could smell it on ya from a mile away! You’re a smack-me-with-your-shadows-and-pull-my-hair kind of girl!”
My entire body ignited. I just knew the flush was crawling up my neck, into my cheeks, and my awareness of that made it ten times worse.
Alcohol. I needed alcohol. Immediately.
“Shots. Many of them. Right fucking now!” I commanded, spinning toward the bar like my life depended on it.
Probably sensing my desperation, or spotting my wild eyes, the bartender swooped over. His gold-flecked skin glimmered under the orb lights. Definitely another Si.
“What’s ya poison of choice?” His voice was smooth, effortless. The sound of a man who’d served a thousand wretched souls like mine.
“Whatever gets me shitfaced the quickest.” I locked eyes with him, pleading, as if silently communicating that I was being held hostage and needed a way out.
Breena slammed her hand on to the bar as she danced in place to the music. Each sway had her minty-green dress glittering.
“One Forgotten Name shot for me!”
“And one Lucky Bastard for me.” Aine sighed, already resigned from this night.
The bartender’s shimmering cheeks hiked up into a knowing smirk. “You got it!” He gave me a telling wink.
His hands must’ve worked at the speed of light because he reappeared a mere few seconds later, and dropped down our glasses.
I eyed the murky green shot suspiciously.
He noticed and flung me another teasing wink, this time with an encouraging nod.
“If you ladies are looking for some real fun, Rainbow Roulette will be starting shortly.”
“Stop! I love that game!” Breena cheered like a lottery winner.
Aine was already visibly withdrawing. “Ohhhhh no. No, no, no!” she said, adamantly shaking her head. “Last time, I had hooves for seven hours!”
“Your own fault! That’s what ya get for being a ninny and refusing the dare!” Breena rolled her eyes.
Rainbow Roulette? One of the many Luckland drinking games, no doubt. All Luckland games were meant to get you sloshed, and above all, wreak absolute chaos. Which was very fitting for the theme of the night so far.
“Fuck it, I’m in.” I released my dignity and threw back the shot, feeling the molten liquid burn a trail of acid down my throat.
Awful. It was god-awful! What had he put in this? Pond scum?
Aine shot me a warning look, as if witnessing me sign a pact with the devil.
“Whooo!” Breena hollered. “Yeahhhh, Carwynn!!! If you can’t be good, be good at it!”
The clear pink liquid reached Breena’s lips, and disappeared in three gulps. Beside her, Aine shone like a disco ball in her slinky silver dress, judging every one of Breena’s gulps.
Aine tossed hers back, hacking from the aftertaste. “A coma is looking pretty good right now.”
The pond-water shot worked double time as my blood began to swim with a sultry heat. My eyeballs started to go numb. Or was it my tongue? And something tickled the back of my head, burning with intensity. What was that?
Veering around, two intense eyes bore into mine from across the room, a muscle feathering in his jaw. Pogue had noticed my presence and didn’t seem too pleased about it. What else was new?
Asshole . . .
The man across the booth from him had the most beautiful shade of midnight blue hair swept up into a neat man bun. The dark hue contrasted against his silvery-pale skin. It made me wonder what color eyes he—gold.
Gold eyes shimmered from a distance, studying me. They volleyed between Pogue and myself, deeply amused. It was the look of a gambler when fixed on a promising hand.
A woman with long blonde hair and a very skimpy minidress strode up to Pogue, sliding into his lap like she owned the damn thing. Her hands lazily trailed down his face as she leaned in to whisper in his ear, breasts smushing up against his chin.
Tramp.
No, no—that’s not very nice. I internally scolded myself. She could be a very sweet lady who’s just having the time of her life. Flirting with . . . him.
Something in my stomach went sour watching her on his lap.
He’s an asshole. And you don’t care, I reminded myself.
“So, if he were an altar, would you feel the urge to kneel down and worship his—”
“Aine!” I cut that imagery off, hexing her with a stare.
She cackled.
Looking back toward Pogue and his other new companion, Aine’s brow furrowed, all amusement wiped clean. “What business does he have with a Dorcha Si?” She motioned to the silver-skinned man.
“Dorcha?” I asked.
Breena, ever the professor, chimed in. “Basically, our opposite. If Aos Si are light, they’re our depressing, dark equivalent. Long ago the Si were all one, but that changed after the rebellion—or at least a pathetic failed attempt at one.”
“What happened?” I frowned.
Aine scoffed. “Long story short, a small group of selfish pricks tried to trick the elders to take power for themselves. But their plan backfired. They were captured and cursed—hence the ashen skin.”
Breena nodded. “Unfortunately, they escaped before they could be officially punished. They then reestablished themselves across the land as the Dorcha Si.”
Dark Si—interesting. Even more so, why was Pogue in a heated conversation with one?
Blondie tramp was gone and Pogue now looked like he was going to throttle Manbun.
What were they talking about? Wait—I didn’t care. It was none of my business.
And yet, my insides felt like worms squirming just knowing he was in the same vicinity.
“Hmmm. That is strange,” I muttered, but decidedly changed the topic to anything other than Pogue. “But in other news, the potion is making my skin feel like I’m covered in lice. So I either need more alcohol or a distraction.”
The pull to Pogue was like a beach ball floating in shallow waters, rolling in, then pulling back out with the tide. Over and over and over. But with each new wave, it drew back deeper, stronger. I was becoming an addict, dying for that fix, needing that tide to drag me out to sea with it.
Luckily Breena came to my rescue, pulling me to the dance floor, Aine in tow.
I could see the alcohol taking effect on Breena and Aine.
Our bodies relinquished control, letting the beat possess us.
Neon lights of gold and violet strobed, lighting up all the figures around.
The music felt like a second heartbeat, throbbing through my very bones like a slow pulse putting me into a chaotic, yet meditative trance.
God, it was ecstasy in motion. And the hands—they were everywhere. Every point of contact eased the ache. Two hands in particular freely roamed, gliding from my thighs up to the swell of my breasts, settling possessively around my neck.
My own hands? Or were they someone else’s? It didn’t matter.
My hips rocked back and forth. Slowly and sensually as they descended to my heels, caressing the beat.
I seductively rose back up, pushing up against the body behind me, rolling my hips in deliberate circles.
Fingers curled around my pelvis, locking me in place, pulling my backside flush against them.
A cool breath brushed the shell of my ear.
“If you keep doing that, we may need to go somewhere more private.” The low voice was wrapped in cadence, creamy like caramel, inviting me in for a taste.
The darkness in me swam to the surface, no longer caged. I was an exposed nerve. Every touch had my senses exploding, igniting my inner core to crave for more.
“Not without you buying me a drink first.” My words came out in a mangled breath as I lightly rolled my hips again.
His hands tightened, and he rewarded me with the victorious sound of a hiss escaping his lips.
Oddly, there was no urge to turn around and discover who was there. I was too intoxicated by the physical contact, riding the high of the pressure against my skin.
But I felt a familiar prickle in the side of my skull—eyes watching.
Warmth engulfed my wrist and I was suddenly pulled through the crowd. A quick, hazy peek back showed Aine and Breena swaying together, as hypnotized by the music as I was.
What was up with this place? I tried to hold onto the thought, but it felt silky, slipping away . . .
My inkling was numb. Abilities muted. They were still there, but somehow dormant. Maybe Breena’s potion had taken a turn. Or that pond scum wasn’t settling right.
Dizzying flashes of light slowly faded from my vision as we approached the less-crowded area at the bar.
A silvery hand slid from my wrist to the small of my back, and stayed there, as if assuring I was kept close. That’s when gold eyes settled to mine.
“How about that drink then?” It was a cocky smile laced in deviance. “Caden, by the way.”
My breath hitched. I took in dark blue hair and a smoldering face. Dorcha.
“Caden?” Struck with confusion, I paused, unsure what he meant.
His arm constricted around my waist, pulling me closer. A predatory gleam grew on his sharp features as he leaned in.
Lips stroked the side of my cheek, voice rough. “My name—so you know what to scream later.”
Damn. I had to give it to him, he was bold. Though, would this have worked if I weren’t so tipsy? Probably not. But right now, it sounded as smooth as peanut butter. And god, I loved peanut butter. Right off the spoon . . . in creamy licks.
Wait. Focus. Blue hair. Silver skin. Evil Si. Focus, Carwynn!
My thoughts slightly cleared, like wiping down a scandalous foggy car window.
Wait, this was the man who—
A shadow of a figure blocked my view and halted my thoughts. A strong frame wedged themselves between Caden and me. A delicious midnight scent momentarily stole my senses. Caden’s arm had forcibly uncoiled from my waist as he staggered back.
“You do have fine taste, Pogue.” Caden let out a fiendish laugh, eyeing me. An elbow casually rested along the bar’s edge as he rolled his eyes. “Look, you weren’t making a move, so I figured I’d take my chances.”
The roadblock in front of me shifted.
Pogue.
My breathing doubled. He’d seen me. Witnessed me all over this Dorcha guy.
I swallowed down the rising embarrassment.
Lucid thoughts slipped away again as a wave of need crashed over me, pulling my mind into the depths. My brain wasn’t aware of what it was doing when my hand rose up, slowly splaying out on Pogue’s lower back in front of me. The shirt was soft under my fingertips.
I just needed to touch him.
My hand felt a jolt of lightning, shocking my entire being. Invisible static built around my body, ordering me to cling to him.
The air in my lungs was stolen away as he ever so slightly stepped back, settling deeper into my touch, as if he could feel the relentless pull too.
Souls fucking take me . . .
Heat flared at my core, red-hot scorching need. It took every strength I had not to drag my nails down his back.
Should I drag them down?
Pogue’s shoulders went tight as a bow string. The charge in the air had changed into something dark, possessive, and on edge. I could almost taste it like vapor on my tongue.
The lights outlined Pogue’s silhouette making him look like a phantom, a shadow of death. The sight alone prickled the back of my neck.
Caden, the smug stupid bastard, laughed again, stepping forward.
“The silent treatment then?”
A deep vibration went through my hand that caressed Pogue’s back. The kind of shudder I imagined a lion’s diaphragm would exude when preparing to sink its teeth into prey.
“Walk. Away.” Pogue’s voice went low in warning.
Caden’s mouth ticked up. “Come on now, we can share! It’d be—”
He froze. A faint paleness crept into his gray skin.
I saw it too—wisps of shadows emanated off Pogue. I’d seen him speak to shadows before, as if calling them. But this was different, this was as if they lived within him, emerging to the surface.
Tension grew to the point of suffocation, grounding me in the moment. Something terrible was about to happen if I didn’t stop it.
“You!” A voice boomed, cracking the crowd like a lightning strike. “You fecking thief!”
Lochlainn barreled through the crowd, flanked by Finley and Keeffe, along with a stronghold of muscle behind them. He was headed straight for Caden.
Pogue intentionally moved backwards, forcing me to press up against his shoulder blades. Without turning to look at me, his arm wrapped behind him, a hand gently settling on my waist, guiding me further back, away from the incoming altercation.
Meaty paws fisted Caden’s shirt and lifted him straight into the air.
Then, Lochlainn viciously slammed him down onto the bar.
Drinks spewed into the air, the glass clinking and shattering to the floor.
The crack that sounded from Caden hitting the stone reverberated through the room, stunning everyone into silence. Even the music drew quiet.
Caden’s breath was knocked out of him. He desperately gulped for air. A look of terrifying shock haunted his face.
In one fluid motion, Lochlainn drew a gold pistol, cocking it.
Caden threw his hands up, pleadingly. “P-p-pleaseee!” The cocky bastard from moments ago disappeared.
Gold sparkled, contrasting against silver skin as Lochlainn pressed the gun to Caden’s forehead. Executioner readying.