Rowan
I was about a hair's breadth away from ripping out the King of Assassins' spine.
We were seated around the large, oval table in the Keep's opulent dining room - Aelin's old master having purposefully seated my mate between himself and Lysandra - cutting her off from the rest of us.
The urge to kill the man had been vibrating in my bones ever since Aelin had stepped out of the carriage at the entrance to the Keep - instantly donning that cold, emotionless mask - one I would gladly never see again.
The worst part of it all was that it was achingly obvious that this particular mask was as familiar to her as her own name. This was how she had existed - as a whirlwind of hate and rage and violence, unable to show a single weakness or human emotion - for a gods-damn decade.
Agony licked a fiery path up my spine at the thought.
The dark yearning to end the bastard had grown exponentially worse when he'd led us into those dark, dank dungeons - my primal beast roaring louder and louder with every step into the gruesome space. The reek of mildew and blood and rust had been nearly overwhelming.
I'd been tortured enough, and done enough torturing of my own, to know exactly what occurred within those stone walls.
The thought of what Aelin had seen, what she'd endured - as a fucking child - when the red-headed maniac had brought her here to be trained, was enough to have me seeing red. My mate, my precious mate, had been so heartbreakingly young when he'd taught her how to slice up men bit by bit, how to keep them alive while she stripped them of the will to live, how to make them scream and cry and beg. How to snuff out their lives.
All at the risk of losing her own.
There was no part of her that disgusted me, no secret of her past that could make me think less of her, not an ounce of her being that scared me. But the thought of her here, at the fragile age of ten, in this place, with these smells, in this sinister darkness ...
The full reality of all she'd suffered thundered through me with the violence of an invading cavalry. It trampled my heart, crushed my lungs, and made it difficult to breathe.
I'd watched, blood boiling in my veins, as with every step, Aelin's shoulders seemed to droop, and her hair grew duller, her skin paler.
I'd almost thrown up when the next realization hit me with all the subtlety of a tsunami.
This was where she had last seen Sam.
These disgusting, abhorrent dungeons. This was where she'd said goodbye.
This Keep was where she'd met him, fallen in love with him. The place she'd planned to escape from with him, after buying freedom for the both of them.
This dungeon was where her dreams went to die when she'd been confronted with his brutal demise, where she had curled up with his desecrated corpse - unable to fathom a world without him in it.
And Arobynn knew that.
That fucking monster knew exactly what kinds of memories Aelin would face within those stone walls. He reveled in it. I could tell by the glint in his eyes when he looked at her - it was disgustingly apparent – the fascination he regarded her with. He was waiting to see if she would crack, break, or shatter under the pressure. And I watched as the obsession in his unnatural eyes grew impossibly stronger when she didn't even flinch.
I was in awe of her sheer strength when she didn't allow a single emotion to cross her flawless face, following her tormentor into the room of horrors without balking. My reverence of the female I'd claimed as mine was the only reason I hadn't snapped and reduced her old master into nothing more than one of the many bloodstains that decorated the ancient stones.
I'd barely managed to cling to the shreds of my self-control when he'd demanded we leave her down there with him - alone - but I could tell it was what Aelin wanted.
And as difficult as it was, I'd always give her what she wanted.
Unless she wanted a life without me in it. That would never happen. Even if I had to spend the rest of my existence watching her from a distance. She'd never get rid of me now.
The fact that she was in her fae form - and capable of shredding him to pieces in a heartbeat - was the only thing that brought me a small bit of comfort.
Still, waiting uselessly in the drawing room while we left Aelin alone with those two vile creatures had been nothing short of torture. The five of us spent the entire time pacing and growling, Lysandra doing the best she could to calm and reassure us, to keep us from falling over the edge of insanity.
It was a close call.
The sight of her golden hair when she'd finally emerged was like the breath of air that saved you from drowning.
I'd forced myself to stay perfectly still when she'd entered the drawing room, greeting Lysandra with a reluctance that was unfamiliar. The emptiness in her eyes had me forcing down a snarl. It was an effort to remain stoic, to not demand to know what had happened in the basement - especially as Arobynn trailed after her, his disgusting gaze not wavering from my mate.
But I'd done it. And I hadn't said a word when we'd been placed strategically around the table, the bastard alienating Aelin as much as he could. So now, we sat – playing at a congenial dinner party - Aedion at the left of Arobynn, followed by me and Rhysand, while Cassian and Azriel sat on Lysandra's right.
No one spoke as servants silently served the first course - some sort of tomato bisque that tasted like ash on my tongue. They didn't even look at the assembled guests, and something told me they'd die before they breathed a word of who dined here tonight, though I doubted it was due to any form of genuine loyalty.
Rather, it spoke to the fact that Arobynn was far from a forgiving master. And the staff was all too aware of the consequences of upsetting him.
It wasn't until the first course had been cleared away that Arobynn finally broke the oppressive quiet, his voice grating to my ears.
"I have to say," he mused, "I wasn't expecting you five to be so ... reserved. Unless my protegee scared you into silence?"
Aedion narrowed his eyes at the sorry excuse for a man. "Were you expecting us to make small talk after you just interrogated and butchered a demon?"
Arobynn waved a hand, as though the events of the dungeon were inconsequential. "That was business. This is not. I'd like to hear more about you all."
"I'm not sure why it matters," Aelin drawled flatly, swirling the glass of wine in her hand.
The King of Assassins adjusted the cloth napkin laying on his lap. "Is it a crime to be concerned about who my protegee is living with?"
Aelin shot him a smile, sharp, feline and fake. "You weren't concerned about that when you had me shipped off to Endovier – why would you care now?"
The table rattled as Cassian's knee banged into it. I shot him a quick glance, relaxing slightly when I saw he was staring resolutely at the plate in front of him, his knuckles white where they gripped his silverware. At least he wasn't about to do something stupid - not yet.
As difficult as it was, we had promised Aelin we would allow her to take the lead during this farce of a dinner.
Arobynn didn't even bother to look up, blinking slowly at my mate. "Is that what you think I did?"
Aelin cocked her head at her old master. "Are you going to pretend you didn't?"
The man raised his hands in a failed attempt to look guileless. "I wouldn't dare pretend anything with you. I fought tooth and nail to free you from that prison, Lysandra can tell you. I lost half my men to that effort, all of them tortured and killed."
He looked to Lysandra, waiting. The shapeshifter swallowed heavily and murmured, "He did try. For months and months, he refused to give up."
Damn, she was good. If I didn't know about her secret meetings with Aelin, I might have believed it. Now, I could only pray that Lysandra's loyalty to my mate bled true - otherwise, there would be another name on my list for tonight.
Aelin just stared at her impassively for a long moment, not acknowledging her words, before flicking her gaze back to her old master.
She raised an eyebrow, no other expression on her face. "Oh? Is that what happened to Wesley - lost in the effort to free me?"
Arobynn's jaw tightened - so minutely, I don't know if I would have picked it up without my fae eyesight - but he said smoothly, "An unfortunate loss."
"Indeed," Aelin simpered. "What a shame that must have been, to lose someone so loyal to you."
The muscle in Arobynn's jaw twitched.
Whoever this Wesley was, he held weight - for both of them.
"Was that when you gave up, when you lost your bodyguard?" Aelin asked innocently, taking a delicate sip of her wine.
He dipped his chin, the faux sorrow in his voice not quite disguising the calculating glint in his eyes. "Eventually, I had to concede it was impossible. Endovier was ... well, I don't have to tell you what it was like - you have firsthand experience, after all."
I straightened in my chair as the world slowed and spread around me with sharp clarity - and I slipped into the killing calm. Rage - unending, cataclysmic rage - pounded through me. How dare he -
How dare that soon-to-be dead sack of shit so cavalierly reference Aelin's year spent in slavery - when he himself had put her there?
If I had my magic, I would have choked the air from his lungs by now, would have shattered his very bones from the force of my winds, would have ended his vile excuse of an existence the instant he thought to utter those malicious words.
Instead, I was left leashing my temper so forcibly that I was choking on it - drowning in the lethal calm of my utter fury.
But my mate didn't even blink.
"I'm surprised, it's unlike you to admit defeat," Aelin murmured. "Although, I suppose we all must acknowledge our weaknesses at some point."
Fuck, she was incredible.
Arobynn's face was smooth when he said, "I see you've finally learned the importance of recognizing when you've been outplayed."
I felt myself calm infinitesimally - if the fool thought he still had the upper hand here, well - all the better for us.
"Oh, I learned that lesson a long time ago." Aelin flashed him a quick, serpentine grin before it faded entirely. "Now, why don't you tell me why you insisted we attend a formal dinner?"
I drew in a deep breath before releasing it slowly. She could do this; she would do this - I just had to wait until she gave the word.
"How else would I get to see you? You would have just dumped the thing on my doorstep. Now, we have so much to discuss, everything we learned from that thing - and how much we could use, together," he crooned, his silver eyes gleaming.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, but I focused on relaxing out of the killing calm. Though I knew Aelin had this well in hand, it was astonishing to me that this horrid creature assumed he could manipulate her so easily.
He had no idea who - or what - he was dealing with. That fact alone reassured me more than I would like to admit.
"I've missed having you at the Keep," the bastard continued. "Though, I must say, I'm rather impressed by how much you've mastered yourself, and your fairly volatile temper. I suppose Lysandra ought to be thankful."
He began to ramble on about the time Aelin had thrown a dagger at the courtesan's head, a story I'd already heard from the two individuals who'd been involved.
Tuning him out, I focused my attention on my mate. I was tense in my chair, an asp ready to strike at the slightest sign of her unease, using the vison of her to keep me grounded, to keep me sane.
Aelin met my eyes when Arobynn began to talk about another brawl between the girls, which involved them rolling down the stairs, scratching and yowling like cats.
Her eyes on mine were a bolt of lightning to the heart. My eyebrows raised imperceptibly, as if to say, Seventeen-year-old Aelin sounds like an absolute menace.
Her lips twitched in response. Perhaps a tad hot-headed. I would pay good money to see seventeen-year-old Aelin meet seventeen-year-old Rowan.
Despite the dire circumstances, I nearly wanted to laugh aloud at the thought. Seventeen-year-old Rowan wouldn't have known what to do with you. I could barely speak to females outside my family.
Arobynn was still talking, but Aelin's eyes didn't leave mine. Liar - I don't believe that for a second.
I fought to keep my lips from quirking into a smirk. It's true. You would have scandalized him with your mouth alone - not to mention the dress you're wearing tonight.
It wasn't an exaggeration.
If anything, it was undeniable. Hell, I'd nearly bitten off my damn tongue when she'd first appeared in it tonight - even with all the centuries I've lived. She looked downright sinful; a wrathful goddess come to life. As I thought back to when she'd first emerged, I couldn't keep my eyes from dipping to watch her chest heave in tune with her inhale, the velvet fabric not leaving anything to the imagination.
Aelin's eyes sparkled. Imagine how scandalized he would have been if he learned that I'm not wearing any undergarments beneath this dress.
I choked on thin air.
Arobynn paused at my gasping cough but continued when Cassian jumped in to ask about what the demon had said.
You can't be serious. I didn't know if I wanted it to be true or not.
Aelin leaned forward to grab her glass of wine, shoulder raising slightly as if to shrug. This dress doesn't hide anything, and it would have ruined the effect. Every single line and wrinkle would show.
She took a casual sip of wine as though she hadn't just completely derailed my every thought. It was only the harsh reality of our current situation that kept me from growing painfully hard at the thought of Aelin, utterly bare beneath that already distracting dress, the luxurious fabric brushing against every inch of her skin.
My jaw clenched. You delight in tormenting me, don't you?
The corner of her lips kicked up into a shadow of a grin, but the sudden silence jolted us out of our private moment. I glanced at Arobynn, who was watching Aelin with a mask of stone. His eyes glittered with a dark malevolence. My stomach sank like a stone as he paused dramatically before speaking.
"So, my little protegee," he drawled, "Have you had fun these past few weeks, wrecking my investment properties and ensuring all my clients won't touch me?"
My heart stopped in my chest.
What the hell was he talking about? I turned back to Aelin, who had leaned back in her chair, utterly unfazed by his accusation. My eyes narrowed.
I wasn't wrong before, the female lived to provoke me - through whatever means necessary.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said with a little smile.
I ground my teeth, practically feeling the pulsing annoyance from my brothers against my skin. I wasn't the only one Aelin had kept in the dark about whatever stunts she'd pulled to get under the King of Assassin's skin.
"Oh?" Arobynn swirled his wine, irritation evident in the slight stiffness of his movements. "You mean to tell me that wrecking the Vaults beyond repair wasn't a move against my investment in the property, and my monthly cut of the profits?"
For fuck's sake, what were the Vaults and why hadn't my little troublemaker mentioned them before?
"The king's men showed up. I was fighting for my life," she raised an eyebrow, the picture of innocence. "Surely you wouldn't expect your protegee to allow herself to be captured - again?"
Despite her offhanded statement, I didn't miss the gleam of triumph in her mesmerizing eyes. Everything she did was on purpose. Including the fact that she was trying to kill me.
Arobynn's lips twisted. "Then I suppose it was a coincidence that the lockbox was hacked open so that its contents could be snatched up by the crowd?"
Aelin's eyes widened. "Oh no, is that so? I always said the place was filled with lowlifes," she tutted. "I mean, a little chaos, and they practically turn into rabid animals – all but foaming at the mouth."
Lysandra cringed, the personification of a woman witnessing a betrayal. I wonder if she had known about Aelin's little scheme before tonight.
I suspected she had.
It would be just like Aelin to fill in her childhood nemesis - and admitted shapeshifter - before even mentioning anything to her mates and cousin.
Infuriating female.
"Wretches, the lot of them," Arobynn agreed. "But especially the ones at establishments from which I receive a healthy monthly sum, isn't that right?"
"Don't tell me you invited me and my friends here tonight so that you could fling baseless accusations at me?" Aelin scoffed. "Here I was, thinking torturing the demon together had been such a wonderful bonding moment for the two of us."
I tensed at her mocking words. Was she trying to get the King of Assassins to snap?
I refused to even acknowledge the fact she referred to us as her friends - I'd allow her that latitude for tonight, at least. Though if she tried it again - gods help her.
Aelin was my mate. Mine. My everything, the pinnacle of my existence. Nothing less. There wasn't anything more. She was it.
A spiteful part of me wondered what the King of Assassins would think if he knew what we truly were to his self-professed protegee.
His response had me snapping to attention.
"Baseless?" He laughed mirthlessly. "So, you didn't disguise yourself as Hinsol Cormac - one of my most loyal clients and investors - when you freed your cousin?"
Aelin furrowed her brow. "Who?"
"Enough," he snapped. "You aren't fooling anyone with this ridiculous charade. You did it deliberately, and we both know it. Any pretense of it being a coincidence disappeared when that very same day, two carriages, belonging to a business Cormac and I own together, went missing - carriages Cormac then told everyone who would listen that I used to get Aedion out of the city when I freed the general by impersonating him, because I, apparently, have become a fucking rebel sympathizer putting my own gods-damn businesses at risk for the good of the cause."
Arobynn was still breathing heavily when Aelin flicked a quick glance around the table, and, after a moment, her eyes landed on mine once again. I kept my face carefully blank, but she saw the words there anyway.
You clever, vicious little minx.
Her eyes gleamed under the light. Did you doubt me?
I was sure my eyes betrayed my devotion. Not for a moment. Yet you still managed to surprise me.
She turned back to Arobynn. Clicked her tongue. "How ridiculous. You can hardly blame me if your prissy clients turn on you at the slightest hint of danger. Perhaps this isn't the city for them?"
"Cormac has fled the city," Arobynn said through gritted teeth, "and continues to drag my name through the mud. It's a miracle the king hasn't caught word of my so-called treachery."
Aelin pursed her lips, thinking deeply - for all intents and purposes - before she said, "If you're worried about losing money, you could always sell the house, I suppose. Or stop using Lysandra's services."
I coughed on my sip of wine.
Arobynn visibility ground his teeth, the most visible display of his ire yet, and I reached under the table for my hidden weapons - just as I suspected my brothers were doing. If he thought to harm Aelin while we sat here, he should think again.
Instead, he inhaled roughly, forcing out a gust of air through his nose. "What will it take, dearest, for you to stop being such a raging pain in my ass?"
And there it was.
The opening Aelin had been waiting for.
She had told us that much, at least.
My heart thundered in my chest as Aelin inspected her nails. This was what she wanted. This was good.
She raised her gaze, dispassionate as she stared down her old master. "A few things, I think."
This was good. This was what she wanted.
Even if it nearly killed me when the two of them retired to the sitting room by themselves, leaving the five of us to eavesdrop in the hall outside.
This was good.
Maybe if I kept telling myself that, I'd feel better about leaving my mate alone with her childhood tormentor for the second time tonight.
No matter what, I knew two things. First, if he touched a hair on my mate's head, I'd make him wish he'd never been born.
Second, was that he would get what was coming to him.
And it couldn't come soon enough.
But it was coming.
Soon.
Very soon.