Chapter Nineteen
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
“We’ll need to do something about your hair.” Severin held a jar of ink out before him, looking between it and Aurelie as if he were contemplating pouring it over her. “The bond should protect you, but it’d be better if the others didn’t know who you were.”
“How reassuring.” Aurelie pulled back her white strands, considering her options.
No matter what she tried, the color wouldn’t last. Orion had attempted staining his hair with walnut husks when they were children, but the pigment only ever lasted a few minutes before it faded to the same stark white.
Still, Aurelie found herself wondering what she might look like with hair like Ilaria’s, dark and sleek, perfect even in the humidity.
She was mulling over the thought when Severin’s brows lifted, his smirk suddenly wolfish. “Well, would you look at that.”
Aurelie blinked, startled out of her thoughts. “Look at what?”
He leaned forward, curling a strand of her hair between his fingers. It was the precise shade of black that she’d been picturing in her mind’s eye. She recoiled, pulse spiking as she grabbed at her hair to inspect it. But as quickly as the color had come, it vanished again.
“What did you do to me, demon?” she sputtered, whirling on him.
“Me? That was all you, my feral little badger. You’re just full of surprises.”
Her fingers clenched in her skirts. This had to be some kind of trick.
“You were always going to get access to some of my magic,” Severin said. “I just didn’t expect you’d be able to glamour yourself, too. It seems we’ve made quite the powerful bond.” He slid a sideways glance at Lute, whose ears pinned back with displeasure.
Aurelie’s heartbeat drummed, unnerved by the gleam in Severin’s eyes as he looked upon her.
“Do other bonded humans glamour themselves?” she asked.
“Not usually. Most demons aren’t even capable of it. Only those older and more closely tied to the Originals can wield it. Which is why it’s a wonder that you accessed the power so easily.”
Surely it couldn’t actually have anything to do with the strength of their bond.
Though it was curious that, despite the initial bout of dizziness, Aurelie felt no illness.
She hadn’t had long to familiarize herself with Yuri, but she’d felt so much tension around him.
Yet with Severin, all she felt was the gentle burn of his presence searing within her.
“I imagine it’ll be very useful once you can control it,” he said.
“Until then, we’ll need something to cover you.
Lute?” Severin glanced up, but the envyborn had already vanished.
She returned two minutes later carrying a hooded cloak that she tossed to Aurelie, and a tunic she shoved into Severin’s chest.
“Put this on. We don’t need any extra attention.”
Severin grinned at this, shoving on the tunic and letting it fall over the length of his bare torso, covering a light stretch of dark hair and the brown skin that pulled taut over his abs. “I’m honored that you think I’d be distracting.”
Lute rolled her eyes, and Aurelie found herself wondering about their relationship. It didn’t appear romantic. Lute seemed too perpetually annoyed with him for that.
“How did you two meet?” she asked, fastening the rich navy cloak at her throat and pulling the hood over her head.
Lute blinked, surprised by the question.
It was Severin who answered. “Lute and I met many years ago, through mutual interests. Now, let’s have dinner, shall we?
” He gave her no chance for a follow-up and quickly shepherded them toward a narrow staircase.
The muffled din of the tavern seeped through the ceiling, and Aurelie felt her heartbeat drum with every footstep that echoed on the wooden planks above.
“I hope you have a plan for this,” Lute grumbled as she took up the rear.
“We’ll be fine. So long as our little badger doesn’t start biting anyone, there should be nothing to worry about.”
Severin twisted the door open, and Aurelie squinted at the warm light that burned her eyes after so long in the dark. She braced herself, feeling as though she were stepping onto a battlefield unarmed as her vision settled.
The tavern bustled with noise and heat. Demons crowded around tables strewn with tankards and half-eaten meals, their voices rising in laughter and the occasional shout.
A prideborn with massive red wings and a thick neck stood poised upon a raised stage that commanded one side of the tavern, strumming a lute whose tune carried over the crowd.
Tables sprawled across the floor, some pushed close to the stage while others had been shoved into dark corners, their wooden chairs mismatched.
Lanterns hung from the ceiling, their chipped glass painting the room in a patchwork glow.
The patrons matched the setting, a variety of demons with curling horns or leathery wings.
Some shimmered iridescent, while other bodies were covered in scaled hides.
Aurelie gasped when she noticed there were humans interspersed among them.
Not any faces that she immediately recognized, but ones that looked strangely at home here—laughing, gambling, draped comfortably across demons’ laps.
“Severin!” a greedborn called upon spotting the trio, raising his wine. “Where’ve you been, you bastard? Have a drink with us!”
Aurelie nearly grabbed at Severin’s wrist to hurry them away.
The greedborn was one of the most truly demonic-looking creatures she’d ever seen.
While most at least appeared relatively human in appearance, this one had sinewy wings that burst crookedly through his back, and his fangs were unnaturally stained a sickly, putrid yellow.
His skin was a leathery green, interspersed with patches of fur.
“Unlike you, I’ve been keeping myself busy,” Severin told the demon, then took the smallest of sidesteps. Aurelie schooled her expression, pulse loud in her ears, as he left her standing unprotected before a greedborn whose bloodshot eyes narrowed upon her.
“Who the fuck is this?” The demon’s voice turned cold, and with great horror she realized that the rest of the tavern had taken notice, a hush falling over the crowd.
“This,” Severin said, taking hold of Aurelie’s shoulder and pulling her against his chest, “is Badger, my bonded. Not much to look at, though her tongue’s as sharp as a whip.”
Aurelie felt her face flare hot as silence slammed into the room like a blow. Onstage, the prideborn’s claws scratched upon its lute strings before it paused, joining in on the dangerous murmuring that rippled through the tavern.
“Your bonded, eh?” The greedborn squinted, trying to determine whether he was serious. “Well, your bonded smells like shit. What’s wrong with her?”
“I smell like shit?” she scoffed, unable to stop herself. “You’re the one with claws as long as your arm. It’s a wonder you’re able to wipe your own—” Aurelie gasped, biting down on her traitorous tongue.
Why in the Divine’s name did I just say that?
The demon’s eyes turned stony, the claws in question grating against the table’s surface. Severin, however, only laughed, delighted.
“Careful,” he warned the greedborn, “Badger bites. And so will I, should any of you lay a finger on her.” The amusement in his voice had all but vanished as he curled his fingers around her shoulders. Her spine locked, skin humming with awareness beneath his touch.
“You smell like an angel,” Severin whispered, the words meant just for her. His lips brushed her ear, a breath of contact that sent her pulse skittering. “It’s faint, so most won’t recognize it. But keep close to me.”
She held still, jaw set, though a treacherous heat flared low in her stomach. Meanwhile, Severin leaned back to address the horde, several of whom watched her with prying eyes, looking like they wanted little more than to pick her apart like vultures.
“You all heard correctly,” he said, not raising his voice. “I’ve taken a bonded, and any attack on her will be considered a direct attack on me. This is the only warning you’ll receive. Now cease your gawking before I have to charge you lot for the entertainment.”
He hooked his arm around Aurelie, guiding her and Lute through the tavern and to a single empty table that sat near the stage.
She exhaled as she fell into her seat, wondering whether Severin could feel the tension stiffening her spine.
From the way he rolled his neck and flexed his fingers, she guessed yes.
The table rocked slightly as she leaned her weight into it, the wood scarred and blackened in places.
“Are you hungry?” he asked casually. “We may as well eat while we wait for that angel of yours.”
As ravenous as she was, Aurelie hesitated. She of course knew that demons ate. They were, after all, the reason Rhovar was struggling to find good game these days. Yet in all her imaginings, demons had been hunched over human corpses, skin and sinew caught between their teeth.
“What are they serving?” she asked warily.
“Liver and heart, mostly. Paired with the blood of our enemies to wash it down. We’ve got humans hooked up to a drip system in the back room.”
Lute slid into the seat beside her, grinning. “Rhovarian blood tastes the sweetest.”
Aurelie paled, feeling sick. “You two are revolting.”
“Oh, relax,” Severin laughed. “They’re serving roast.”
He waved over a busty demon to take the order, and Aurelie was surprised to find that she could have passed perfectly for a human if not for her pink skin and pointed ears.
She barely nodded her acknowledgment of Severin’s order before moving on to the next table, doling out hefty mugs of ale and chalices of wine.
One of the men at the next table pawed at the barmaid, fingers brushing her waist as she passed. Her eyes narrowed, lips pulling back to reveal pointed teeth spread into a thin smile.
“Careful, darling,” she hissed. “I charge extra for that kind of service, and you can’t afford it.”