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I don’t shy away from death. I’ve personally witnessed Asmo kill plenty. He once slit a man’s throat for whistling at me as he was escorted to his cage. But this? This is like walking into a ring with starved, wild animals, and hoping they don’t see you as food.
“What is this place?” I dare a glance at Loric.
He seems unnaturally comfortable here and hasn’t given the crowd a second glance. “The Poison Ducky, and yes, everyone here has likely murdered someone. And since that attitude of yours is going to give me an aneurysm by the end of the week, you should fit right in… Assuming they look past the dress.”
“Great…That’s reassuring.”
He’s not wrong, though… Until now, I’ve looked at killing my father as something I needed to do. It was kill or be killed, and it was almost the latter. I suppose I do belong here, among the shattered souls. This place is passively hostile. Most wear calculated smiles, and those who don’t sport stone-cold faces, their ruthless eyes following us like hawks would mice. I do my best to ignore the fact that most of their hands rest on hilts of weapons, ready to strike at a moment's notice.
Yet, it’s the variety of creatures that gets me the most. In Solaria, it’s typical of species to socialize within their own kind. The only time they mix is during the king’s balls, and the moment they leave the castle, they go their separate ways.
Here, though, troll folk and dark elves converse while druids and orcs cheer glasses of ale. It’s a melting pot of cultures under one roof, voluntarily. I’ve never seen anything like it.
“If you’re done staring, we have a job to do.” Loric nudges me forward, driving me deeper into the crowd.
“Are you always like this?”
“Like what?” He stays close to my back, but the farther we walk inside, the more people start to notice us.
“Pushy,” I say, toggling my gaze between the dozen or so creatures who have set down their drinks. I can sense their eyes like spiders creeping over my flesh, scouring for secrets, for weakness.
“Only with you.” Loric stops short of colliding into my back as I halt, spotting the orc turning to face us near the bar. It snarls and curls its upper lip, and the nerves settle deeper, burrowing into my marrow.
“Why do I get the feeling they don’t like you? It can’t be me. No one knows me.”
Power tingles my skin, electrifying the air between us as Loric steps to my side. His jaw is set and his silver eyes glow in warning. I shiver at the onslaught of magic that ripples over my body. I’m not sure what he just did, but fuck… It felt like melting into a warm bath, like euphoria.
I force my spine straight, pushing down the sensation until it’s barely registerable in my mind.
“It’s not me,” he says, prowling to stand at my side. “They’re just not used to seeing someone like you wander in here.”
“You mean a woman?” My attention darts to the two women on my right. They’re pretty, in a roguish way, all tight leather pants and harnesses in place of boned corsets or bodices, but every available space holds knives. “I’m not the only woman here.”
“No, but you’re the only unmated one.”
“That can’t be true,” I say, scanning the women for markings. The blood drains from my face the moment I find them, hidden among the old scars is a set of teeth marks. They match, each sporting a shiny, healed bite mark at the base of their throats. The only thing different is one has it on the left side and the other on the right. “Nevermind.”
Loric snorts and nudges me forward again. I swallow hard, inching closer to the bar. “I doubt they’re used to seeing someone civilized, either. You might’ve grown up in chains and lack your sister’s white hair, but you look noble from a mile away. You walk with your head held high, at least until you stumble like a newborn calf.”
Rolling my eyes, I speak over my shoulder. “Who do we need to talk to? I don’t want to stay any longer than we have to.”
In my peripheral vision, I see the corner of his lips tilt upward.
“So, she does get scared.” He seems to say it more to himself than to me.
“I’m not scared. I just have a bad feeling about this.”
“Come on.” His fingers thread with mine and I suck in a breath as my nerves excite.
I don’t understand it. Touching him is like touching raw, unhinged magic. It’s addicting and sends a foreign feeling swirling within me at the same time, like a warning or something darker…a desire.
He drags me toward the bar, slicing through the crowded room as the chatter roars around us. People fall silent as we pass, their eyes tracking us through the room, and by the time we reach the stone counter, the entire place has fallen so silent that I could hear a pin drop.
“Excuse me, but we need to reserve three rooms.” Loric’s voice seems to bounce off the walls. If it wasn’t bad enough to have bystanders getting their eye-fill, now they all know where we’re staying.
The man behind the bar whips a dish rag over his shoulder and turns to face us. His amber eyes meet mine, and suddenly I can’t breathe.
I know him.
