Filed To Story: Luna Riannon and Alpha Brayden Novel
“And you remember what happened to them,” Fenrir raised his chin higher, giving her a warning glance. He turned away and walked past the table with weapons. “Interesting collection. Do all Southern women carry grenades in their purses?”
“Depends on where they work,” she retorted, not wishing to give up. “It’s a must for me and those are for self-defence only!”
“Really?” Fenrir chuckled and picked up a small black ball, making every muscle in Astrea’s body tense. “So, you are telling me this little thing here would not blow up half of my building?”
“You are so clever, Fenrir,” she sneered at him, “You tell me.”
“Why don’t we try and see?” he arched his brow, and she knew he wasn’t serious.
He couldn’t be serious.
That would be nuts.
He knows it’s explosive, he is bluffing! she said to Nova.
He doesn’t look like he is bluffing, her wolf replied. I don’t feel anything from him.
She clenched her jaw, not wishing to lose this staring contest.
“Do it!” she approved with a curt nod, squeezing the crystal in her hand tighter. She still didn’t know what it was, but she also didn’t care now.
“Fine!” the man smirked and crushed the ball in his hand, stopping the whole world around them.
“No!” Astrea screamed, feeling time around them freeze. She threw herself at him, not even knowing why. He couldn’t be this stupid; he couldn’t risk and end his life just like that!
He couldn’t–
She found herself holding his fist with the tiny grenade, her fingers digging into his skin. Astrea stared at it in horror, not able to say a word. She could sense it exploding in his palm; she could feel how heated his skin became, only for it to return to its normal temperature almost instantly.
“Got you,” Fenrir scoffed, pulling her closer by her waist and enjoying her shocked expression.
“You–” she couldn’t find the words to express herself. Which was a first.
What was going on? Did he trick her and it wasn’t a real grenade from the island?
“Relax, Astrea,” the King chuckled. “I knew you were a spy the moment I saw you. It’s not a big deal for me.”
Slowly, she returned to her senses, processing the new information. It had to be a trap! There was no other reasonable explanation for it.
“I am not– I don’t know what you’re talking about!” She put her best innocent face on, knitting her brows together as if she was offended. “And take this back!” she shoved the dark crystal into his hand, “whatever that is!”
It was probably safer to just get rid of it.
“I am afraid you need it more than I do now,” Fenrir took her hand and placed the crystal back into it. “After all, I am not the one with a crazy deity’s tattoo on my neck the day after I touched a Nightmare’s horn.”
Her lips parted, remembering the events of the previous night with more clarity now. The majestic black unicorn… and how she’d touched its horn. That creature mesmerised her enough for her to be that careless.
“Was that real?” she locked her gaze with the wolf. “A Nightmare! What was that thing? I… I’ve never read about them in books!”
“That’s because this one is the last one,” Fenrir responded, watching her closely, afraid to miss even a flicker of emotions in her. “And you’re lucky he likes you oryou would be long dead. Although you can still end up that way if you don’t keep that.”
Astrea looked at the crystal again.
“What is it?”
“A fragment of a Nightmare’s horn,” he replied calmly and she almost dropped the thing to the floor.
“Didn’t you say they were poisonous?” she panicked.
“I did,” he chuckled, still holding her wrist. “But not this one. This one was dropped a long time ago. Nightmares shed their horns like deer do with their antlers. After the horn is dropped, it can be used for many things, including healing. So, you’re welcome.”
“Th-thanks,” she muttered, still lost.
He was too calm for someone who had discovered a spy.
Unless… he wasn’t afraid of her at all. He knew she was powerless here. Didn’t he tell her that her tattoo didn’t work anymore? That meant that help wouldn’t be arriving for her anytime soon. He had all her weapons, and she didn’t even have footwear.
The Rogue King took precautions.
“Where are we?” she repeated her question from before, realising that this was the most important one out of them all.
“Ah this,” Fenrir’s lips curled into a smirk as he led her to the room’s glass wall, “This is the real East, Astrea. Welcome to the city of Solace, the place where everyone is free.”
“Except for you!” a female voice sounded as the door behind them opened.
Astrea did her best to keep her expression neutral when she saw who entered the room. She was utterly surprised to find herself face-to-face with the dark-haired woman.
“Fenrir, she can’t walk freely in here!” Salome pierced her with her brown eyes, crossing her arms over her chest in a defiant manner. She looked like she owned the place, taking Astrea off guard. This was the last thing she needed.
She knew Salome. This beautiful delicate woman was one of the contenders at the Luna Trials, her previous failed mission. Salome was a strong witch and one of the first to leave the event. Back then, Astrea didn’t pay her much attention for that reason alone, regretting it now. Otherwise, she would have at least some kind of insight on that woman.
Well, everything officially sucks now! Nova announced. She knows us.
I have a feeling they already know all about us, Astrea hissed at her wolf. Can you keep up with it, please? Fenrir just exploded one of my grenades in his hand and didn’t even feel it! He knew I was a spy from day one! We are in some city that’s not on the map! And the Teacher cannot reach us here!
That last part is not so bad, though, Nova noted, and she had to agree with that.
Maybe she doesn’t recognise us, Astrea suggested, trying to sound optimistic.
“Astrid,” the witch sneered, dashing her hopes on the spot, “nice to see you here. You should have stayed where you belong, though. In the South!”
Not only did she recognise her, but she even remembered her alias.
“Just call me Astrea,” she cleared her throat. “Astrid is what my father used to call me–”
“Save it, dear!” Salome raised her hand to demonstrate how unimpressed she was. The witch looked dazzling today in a red silk kaftan dress with her shiny long black hair. She did not look this gorgeous back at the Trials, although her beauty was undeniable. Astrea took a quick glance at herself, realising that she hadn’t had a chance to brush her messy, wavy hair and was trying to ignore the fact she was wearing nothing but a flimsy nightgown. A nightgown that wasn’t hers.
Could it be Salome’s?
The thought alone made her shiver in disgust, but the question that bothered her the most, though, was why the witch felt so at ease with Fenrir.
Yeah, I don’t like it, Nova snarled, not helping her rising anxiety.
“You were sent here to spy on us!” Salome’s words were laced with an accusatory tone and directed at Astrea with a sharpness that couldn’t be ignored. “You want to bring all the information to your masters in the Southern Republic!”
The she-wolf cast a quick side-glance at Fenrir, who was watching her reaction the whole time, making Astrea wonder how much she gave away.