Posey
“Here.” Aris slides a glass of purple-hued liquid in my direction. Fizz lifts off the round balls of ice within, and it smells like juniper and lavender.
I immediately wrinkle my nose. I enjoy the occasional glass of wine, but I’ve never been one for hard alcohol, even during my college days.
“Don’t worry. I know you don’t like liquor” Aris leans against the railing overlooking the lower level of the bar, where a live band sends a screeching rock melody through the venue. “It’s a mocktail. There’s nothing in it but soda water and flavor.”
I arch a brow. “You’re not drinking either?”
He shakes his head once, lifting an identical drink to his mouth. “Nope. I think I’ve drank enough for an entire lifetime while the boys were here. I want to be clearheaded going forward.” His gaze holds mine against the strobing lights. I feel a little off-center despite the crisp,buzz-free flavor of the drink.
He finishes his in a single swallow and sighs, looking over the top of my head at the crowded bar. “Do you like the music?”
“I don’t know.” I laugh, leaning my arm against the railing. “It kind of sounds like a car accident.”
“I think that’s what it’s supposed to sound like. I didn’t do a lot of research into the band.”
“Oh. I thought… why are we here, then?”
He shrugs a shoulder, so casual, so aloof. “I haven’t seen you in three days. I’ve been busy, and I wanted to get out, to see… anything.” The words unsaid drift between us for several aching seconds, hammering through my ears like he actually had the nerve to say them out loud. I wanted to come, and I wanted you with me.
It’s written all over his face as he stares down at me.
“Fucking witches.” A voice directly behind me grates down my spine. “Always in the fucking way.”
I look around to try to find the speaker and spot a trio of young men standing only feet away. All three are staring at me, which is odd. The one in the center lifts a brow, leaning into his companion to loudly say, “I didn’t think their kind was allowed in Veiled Valley. Fucking disgusting. They smell awful, too.”
I turn back to Aris, trying to look over his shoulders at whoever these jerks are talking about but… I’m the only woman against the railing overlooking the thick of the concert below. My body tingles. Every fine, downy hair lifts on instinct.
I feel that gnawing, sick kind of feeling again, like a wave is heading toward me, threatening to pull me into a fevered, aching embrace–the kind that left me sweating so profusely I could barely crawl out of bed and into the shower this morning.
But then Aris drapes his arm over my shoulder and pulls me close until I’m flush with his chest, his fingers drawing lazy circles over my upper arm. His chin brushes over the top of my head. He looks at the men behind us and chuckles, the sound a low, vibrating reverberation that settles in the base of my spine. “Can I fucking help you guys? You’re staring. I’m not keen on other men looking at what’s mine. Back off.”
A note of unease skitters between our groups. Aris’s voice still clings to the edge of charming, play-boyishness, but the undertone is as serious as death. His scent changes, too. Darkening. Deepening. Spiced with sudden violence, and I melt into his touch against my will, my fingers curling over the center of his chest, wrinkling his shirt. I turn to steal a glance at the men over his arm.
The middle idiot looks stunned for a split second before his eyes narrow, but his companions back off, their tails between their legs, so to speak.
“Prince Aris,” Middle Idiot bitterly remarks, dropping his head into a brief, shallow, halfhearted bow. “I didn’t know you–”
“Back the fuck off before I throw you over the railing,” Aris commands so dryly I almost laugh. He’s not joking, that’s for sure, even if his body remains totally relaxed. I know without a shadow of a doubt he can flip a switch and go from this to deadly in an instant, and I think the guy knows that, too, because he turns on his heel and cowers, disappearing into the crowded balcony.
“What was that about?” I whisper, hoping he can hear me over the pounding screech of the music below.
“Just your typical jackass bar behavior,” he replies without skipping a beat, but even when I drop my hand and pull away, his arm remains around my shoulders, his touch damningly present, like he is, in fact, laying a very public claim to me.
“You didn’t have to do that for me. They probably weren’t even talking about me.”
“Oh, they were.” He looks down at the band, his silver eyes absorbing every flash of color and light.
“But… I’m not a witch?”
“You’re not. You’re not a wolf either.”
“But they… said I smelled–”
“You smell unreal,” he says so low I almost mistake the words for a growl. His eyes are on mine again, holding fast, so dark the silver streaks resemble stars. I forget to breathe because I’m stupid. Stupidly, irrationally, staring back at Aris like he’s the glue that holds my world together, and those kisses meant something. Even the thought of them has me pooling with a feverish kind of heat, and I can’t snap myself out of it.
Neither can he.
I’m better than this. Smarter. Quicker. I’ve always been able to separate carnal needs from what actually must be done. It’s how I was raised. I am not my own person. Everything I do and think is for the Alpha. For the pack. For the good of all or none.
I was going to give myself away in an advantageous marriage to whoever my parents saw fit based on my alchemy powers. I was ready to zip my mouth closed and keep my head down after four blissful years of freedom in college because I’d been granted them like they were a divine gift, and I owed something in return.
Then my wolf never came. What replaced it is a monster.
I am worthless. I will beg for forgiveness at the altar of the Goddess for the rest of my life in repentance.
The way Aris is looking at me right now makes me question everything I know to be true.
It’s crowded. We’re being jostled from both sides as the concert thunders to a remarkable close, and the crowd moves upstairs for air and more drinks. “Lets get out of here,” he says against my skin, his lips a gentle brush over my forehead.
I gulp fresh air the second our bodies breach the entrance of the bar. The crowd is young and excited, buzzing around us in every direction, but Aris is a large man and easily shoves a path for us, his steps steady on the uneven cobblestone. It’s a humid night. The air is heavy and damp, clinging to my skin. We walk side by side to the port.
An outdoor night market glows, its lights casting streaks of gold and crimson on the wet stones, but all I can feel is him–his hand on my arm. His strength. His scent masks everyone like my body is clinging to it, offended by everyone and everything else.
I feel off kilter. Uneasy. Feral. Things I’ve never felt before. But then the boat comes into view, and he’s helping me onboard, and then…
“Prince Aris!”
Aris nearly kicks off the dock but stops, holding the tethers keeping the boat bound in place. A cool breeze rustles my cardigan. Aris straightens, a shadowed figure jogging into view. It’s a tall, good-looking young man. A warrior, based on his build and plain clothes. He smiles widely at Aris and Aris does the same, loosing a disbelieving chuckle, and he hops down onto the dock and embraces the fellow.
“Gods, I haven’t seen you in years,” the stranger says, blue eyes shining wolflike in the darkness. He smiles up at me with a little salute–charming, but curious. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Posey,” Aris says, his face alight with what I can only describe as joy, “this is Eric. We went through wolf training together as kids.”
“And warrior training in Moonrise after that,” Eric continues with a smirk. “But he went back to his fancy castle while I stayed on and got the shit beat out of me for a decade further, by his brother-in-law..”
Aris runs his fingers through his hair. “It’s been that long, huh? Yeah, Brie and Logan… They’ve got two kids now…”
I suddenly feel like I’m the one interrupting, but their conversation is brief, their greetings warm with a few common memories shared. Eric asks about Aris’s family and Aris his, then they laugh about a time when they had an instructor who mixed up their names so often they took each other's identities for an entire training season and would have gotten away with it if Logan, a trainer at the time, hadn’t been such a “bootlicking smartass.”
There’s nothing I can add to the conversation, so I just stare, noticing the ease and the smile painting Aris’s expression.
Why did I never look this closely at him before?
Because it doesn’t matter. If he knew the truth, he’d hate me. He’d scorn me. His hatred would have deadly consequences.
And that might be what I’m most afraid of.
“I was just in Ruby visiting my brother,” Eric explains, and I’m instantly drawn back into the conversation. “Were you aware of the hunting party they’re gathering? The Beta called it into action.”
“A hunt for what? I just spoke to their Alpha a day ago, and he didn’t mention anything.” Aris shifts his weight.
“You’re never going to believe it. They think there’s a fox on the island.”
Aris’s entire body changes. His posture becomes so rigid I can see every fine angle of muscle beneath his shirt. “You’re kidding.”
“No. I wish I were. My brother thinks it’s far-fetched, but his mate is nervous now, and won't let the kids play outside. I’m not sure I believe it, either.”
Aris toys with the ropes, stretching them over his fingers while my stomach sinks to my toes. “What reason would they have to believe there’s a fox in Ruby?”
“Not just a fox.” Eric leans in like he doesn’t want to be overheard, but we’re the only people in this section of the port, and the dock is empty save for us. “A fox shifter. The Alpha’s son is sure. He’s a fucking meathead, that guy, but several others reported catching a scent two weeks ago, during the last full moon.”
Aris nearly snaps the ropes. He just nods. “Thank you for telling me. I’m in Ruby for another week or two. I’ll see how I can be of assistance.”
“Can you imagine?” Eric says with a rough, disbelieving laugh. “A fox shifter? An abomination, right? I can’t even picture it.”
The boat could be capsizing right now, and I wouldn’t notice until I tried to breathe and filled my lungs with water. Aris says something under his breath. Eric leaves. I barely register the fact we’re moving, the shoreline drifting further and further away, until the rush of undiluted fear loosens, and my heart thumps back into rhythm.
Aris quietly mans the sails, his eyes locked on the distant shoreline, to the archipelago of small islands coming into view–their city lights glimmering like embers.
“Are we safe?” I ask him, and he looks down at me like he forgot I was there.
“Yeah. There’s no such thing as fox shifters, Posey. You have nothing to worry about.”