7. The Unseelie Twat
The Unseelie Twat
Ryn
Isqueeze Seth’s hand as we exit our little sex cocoon.
A big, cheesy smile plastered on my face, making my cheeks ache, but I can’t be bothered to care.
I feel amazing right now! We make our way across the room toward the area that’s set up with black lights and loads of neon paint, passing a little bar with signature drinks as we go.
I pull up short when I see one advertising a pina colada in a goblet with all sorts of candies hanging off the rim. It looks fucking fantastic. Maybe it’s the sated feeling, maybe it’s the pixie dust—or a combo of the two, but that concoction looks too good to pass up.
“Seth, I want—” he leans in close, trying to hear me over the music, and my mind goes blank.
Now that I know what that mouth can do, damn near all my brain function has left the building.
I point to the drink I want, and he nods as he pulls out his phone.
Mine vibrates as it dings, and I grab it out to check.
Seth: I’ll get you the drink and meet you over by the paint?
I smile as I look up at him, his thoughtfulness warming me to my bones—bones that are still all jelly-feeling thanks to the mind-numbing orgasm he just gave me in a fucking closet.
Ryn: Sounds good, Tiger ;)
His orbs glow brighter, and it’s the cutest fucking thing.
I duck my head to hide my smile as I turn to make my way toward the paint.
As much as I really am interested in the paint party, I’m much more interested in trying to figure out how to get him to come home with me and pick up where we left off.
My phone vibrates again, and I groan at the number of messages I have from Dr. Vesalius.
My lips purse as I think about opening them, but then think better of it.
This has been a fucking epic night so far, and there’s no way I’m going to ruin it with work stuff.
The crowd is pretty thick here, and I glance back quickly to where I last saw Seth to make sure he’ll be able to find me, but when I do, I feel the squish of someone else’s foot as I step on it.
My face screws up, an apology ready on my tongue when I turn to speak with whoever I just stepped on, praying it was actually just someone’s foot and not an entire small creature.
My face falls, and I feel my spine stiffen as I stare blankly into the cold, dark eyes of none other than Kier Darro, the Unseelie Prince.
“You!” I was never acquainted with him when I was a member of his court, but everyone in Unseelie lands knows the royal family, at least by name and likeness.
With a bored voice, he casually replies, “Me.”
I consider my options quickly—I could just walk away and pretend I didn’t bump into him but it seems unlikely he’d let things be that easy. I don’t believe for a second that I ran into him ‘accidentally’. Still, it’s worth a shot.
“Goodbye!”
Kier smiles at me coolly, the intensity of his stare stopping me in my tracks, “You will speak with me.”
I pause, anger coursing through my veins at his audacity, but also because even though I’ll never admit it out loud, I am afraid of the Unseelie Prince. At least, this one. His brother? Maybe not, but Darro? You’d have to be mental not to be. For once in my life, I stay silent and just listen.
“Not here,” his eyes move around leisurely, but there’s a tension rolling off of him that has me on high alert.
I shake my head, “I’m not going anywhere with you. We talk here, or we don’t talk at all.”
He glares at me, and I want to wither under the weight of it, but I stand my ground.
I’m tempted to look around for Seth and signal him to—to what?
I don’t know. I’m not sure if it’d be better if he stayed away or intervened.
Kier lifts one hand, the warm hazelnut color of his skin a contrast to our frigid interaction.
“There. We’ll do it your way, for now.” Nothing has changed visually, we’re still at the 3P surrounded by people, but all the sound has been muted entirely, and his smooth voice feels more effortlessly menacing without all the background noise.
“What do you want?” I grit my teeth and try my hardest to look nonplussed.
“To help you with your ambitious little endeavor.”
I laugh, I can’t help it. The idea of Kier doing anything to help me out of the kindness of his heart is hilarious, and I tell him as much.
“Kindness?” His brow raises, and his dark eyes color with humor, “Who said anything about kindness?” His top lip curls slightly, and he tilts his head back, considering.
“I won’t pretend to be the misunderstood, morally grey character. I fully embrace being the black and white self-serving villain.” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “No, I want to help you for me.”
I swallow thickly and shake my head, “I’m not going to let you turn my life’s work into some Unseelie con—”
“I don’t give a shit about your ambitions.” He straightens his spine and stands over me, “Have you spoken to your family lately?”
The change in topic disorients me, and I shake my head, “We don’t speak.”
An eyebrow quirks, and he hums, “Well, your sister—a staunchly loyal subject of my court, has been working on her own little project inspired by you. Soul preservation—with the use of vessel artifacts. Seemingly useless, really. That is, unless her soul stones can be used with your little Lazarus project.”
My eyes widen in horror, and a chill shoots down my spine. Soul stones? Impossible. But then, why else would Darro get involved? Oh gods.
“Oh, good! You’re not a complete imbecile.”
I scowl at him, but the venom that would usually be behind it is gone. “What do you want, Kier?”
His composure slips, and a thunderous expression contorts his handsome face, “I want to make sure you damn well know what you’re doing so that you don’t give members of my court an advantageous position.
Because make no mistake, Tarynn Nox, they will use your little project to make themselves that much more powerful.
You aren’t just saving your precious little innocents—you’re re-weaponizing modern necromancy. ”
Tears sting my eyes, and bile burns my throat. How the fuck could I have overlooked something like this? I know these bastards. I know how they think. My jaw wobbles, and I bite my cheek to stop it.
Kier makes a sound of disgust and looks past me as he speaks, “Speak with your partner if you must. I’ve already reaffirmed my interest to him, despite your little permit stunt.”
A corner of his mouth turns up as he chuckles, “Ridiculous of you to think that would deter me, by the way.”
I force myself to speak, “Just because you bring up a valid point doesn’t mean I trust you.”
He tilts his head, and his long black hair swishes out from where it was tucked behind his pointed elven ear. “I don’t care if you trust me. I only care that the people I kill—” he leans in and I flinch as he whispers, “stay dead.”
My head spins as I suck in a breath. I one-hundred percent believe Saskia would do something like this—not just for the Unseelie court, but to shatter me. My sister and I have always been complete opposites, but when I denounced the court, something changed between us. She took it personally.
I don’t bother responding to Kier, even though I can still feel him standing in front of me, blocking my exit.
“I’ll be in touch, but for now, you might want to call off your little pet before he destroys the club. Pixies can hold a hell of a grudge.” He rubs at a spot on his side absentmindedly as he raises his free hand in the air and snaps.
Suddenly, the overpowering noise from the 3P comes crashing back, and I jump in place. Seth is yelling my name, at least, I think it’s Seth. It's his voice—but distorted and amplified. My head swings around to look for him.
I can feel the air shift as Kier vanishes, but my eyes catch on a menacing darkness at the center of the club. Shadows are snapping out, and partygoers are screaming and running out of the way. Bouncers swarm the shadows but keep running through the other side, charging into nothing.
“Seth!” My voice comes out weak, and I wince.
“SETH!”
Two burning blue orbs turn in my direction, shadows snapping to a halt. Before I can so much as blink, I’m surrounded by darkness.
“Are you okay?” Seth’s voice is quiet now, but still not right.
There’s a grittiness to it, and an almost feminine echo that makes my skin crawl.
Despite the disconcerting difference, for the first time since bumping into Darro, I feel like I can breathe again.
A small sob rips from my throat, but I nod.
“Take me home, please. I want to go home.”
Dark arms reach out of the shadows and lift me into a bridal carry. I can’t see a thing, but I can feel us moving.
“I’ve got you, Ryn.” There's no distinguishable body in the shadows carrying me, and his voice feels like it's coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once.
I sniff, resting my head where a shoulder might be, and rattle off my address.
Normally, the pressing darkness might make me panic, but right now it just feels like being stuck in a hug where no one can reach me.
“Stay with me, please," my plea sounds much more vulnerable than I'd intended, and I tense reflexively as I wait for his response.
I can feel a kiss on my forehead as a tear leaks from my eye and slips down my cheek.
“Whatever you need, Ryn. I've got you.”
My limbs slowly relax as I melt into him, allowing myself to lean into the tentative trust I've been building with Seth.
What do I need? An ache settles in my chest and threatens to rip me apart. What am I going to do?