“Aren’t you done yet?” Massa whined as Prita reached for the bag of blood. She opened it and poured the liquid contents into a cup.
“Stop complaining. Why don’t you be more like your brother? You know, quiet?” she asked, sipping carefully at the cup.
“Sia is a patient man. I’m not.”
Sia looked up at the mention of his name. He was seated cross-legged on Massa’s bed. Massa’s wing was the safest at the moment because Sia wasn’t so sure Ruarc’s wives would keep shut about a vraugmita being in the palace.
“That’s a shame because I’m bound to make you wait,” Prita countered, slurping what was left in the cup.
“I’ll wait for you, Prita,” Massa stated seriously.
Prita only rolled her eyes, reaching for another bag of warm blood. She stopped, however, at Sia’s command.
“That’s enough,” the prince ordered, putting away the magazine he was flipping through earlier. “You’ve eaten, you’re clean now, so why don’t you stop wasting our time and tell me where Crinka is?”
Prita scowled at him. “All my needs haven’t been met, prince. I’m yet to see the girl.”
“You’ll get the girl once I have Crinka.”
Prita was baffled by his response. “That’s… that’s not what we agreed on!”
“That’s a shame. Take me to Crinka if you want the girl.”
“Fine! You lycans are so insufferable!”
Sia rolled his eyes. Prita rose, and so did Massa. She wiped her hands down on his clothes. Massa mewled.
“Massa, teleport us to the dungeons. The ones specially meant for outcasts.”
“Kiss me, then I’ll think about it.”
Sia shook his head. Prita was annoyed. “You know what would happen if I kiss you, Massa, so stop being dramatic and do as I say.”
“I’ve obeyed all your commands, so it’s about time you obey mine. It’s just a kiss, baby,” Massa insisted.
“Massa, we certainly don’t have time for this madness. Ask for your kiss later,” Sia said angrily.
“The kiss, then we can go.”
When Prita saw that he wouldn’t budge, she pulled him down to her height and kissed him. It was very quick, a swift brush of her lips against his. All the same, it made Massa hungry for more. Prita stepped back and dashed to Sia’s side, afraid that Massa would pull her in for another.
“You’ve had your kiss,” Sia said as he wrinkled his nose. Vraugmitas didn’t smell very nice. “Now teleport us.”
With heavy reluctance, Massa did as he was told and, using his magic, brightened the bulbs. The trio walked carefully past the cells, avoiding the crushed bones on the floor. Massa cringed when he saw Mosle lying in a pool of blood. The young prince was certain Prita had killed him.
They stopped before a cell. It happened to be the only one with bars and a working lock. Prita unlocked it and stepped inside, urging the brothers to do the same. Crinka was lying on a soft blanket, fast asleep. Sia rushed to her side, inspecting her body for any sort of bruise. He found none.
“Why is she naked?” he asked angrily, glaring at Prita. She returned the ferocious look.
“She puked. I had to get rid of her clothes. Your girl was shit out drunk.”
Sia sniffed the air. The vraugmita wasn’t lying. “Thank you,” he muttered.
She nodded, acknowledging his gratitude. Massa watched their exchange in silence, jealousy bubbling in his veins. Yes, he was jealous of Sia. He couldn’t remember the number of times he had tried to get Prita to talk to him. But here she was, chatting with Sia as though they were friends.
“Now that we’ve found Crinka, Prita, please tell us where you found her and how you managed to weasel your way in here.”
“I left my tomb.”
Massa frowned. “I thought you never leave there?”
“I left my tomb in search of food, and that’s when I saw them.”
“Them who?”
“Some pretty little things in green dresses,” Prita replied, her eyes glued to Crinka.
“The royal concubines,” Massa hissed.
“She was among them, wearing some fine dress. She was walking a bit funny, and that’s when I realized she was drunk.”
“Where were they headed?” Sia asked, taking off his shirt and wrapping Crinka with it. Prita mewled once her naked body was covered from view.
“To the stream. The ones that wolves are normally thrown in so that they can be scorched.”
“The one Avetha cursed and made unfit for wolves and humans?”
“Yes, that’s the very one. I saved her before they pushed her in and brought her here.”
Rage bubbled within Sia’s veins. Those pretty little things had tried to kill his woman. He won’t spare a single one of them.
“Good gracious! I hope you were not seen?” Massa asked with great concern.
“Of course not. I made sure I wasn’t.”
“How the hell did you bring her in here without being seen?” Massa asked curiously.
“The same way I saved her without being seen. Now stop being so inquisitive,” she snapped before turning to Sia.
“Is she alive?”
“Yeah,” Sia replied, gathering her up in his arms before rising. “She’s a bit cold but she will be fine.”
“So the girl?” Prita asked, twiddling her thumbs.
“You don’t need a girl when you have me,” Massa said smugly.
Sia inclined his head to look at her. “Massa will take you to her.”
“The hell I will. Sia, this woman is my mate. Why the hell should I be setting her up with other people?”
“We owe her for helping us,” Sia replied calmly, stepping out of the cell.
“Prita, Massa will bring Pharix to you. Good night.”
…
“Fancy seeing an esteemed lady like yourself here,” Eloive admonished as he took the chair opposite Samantha. He had seen her alone, looking lovely in the burgundy dress she had on.
Samantha smiled at him. “Oh hi there, prince.”
“Hello to you too. What are you doing here?”
“My father is here, so I tagged you along.”
“Okay. So what would you like to drink? Wine? Cocktails? Brandy?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Nonsense! What kind of prince would I be if I don’t take care of my guest?” he paused and turned to the food aisle.
“Waiter! Waiter!”
Eloive frowned when no one answered him. He shouted above the loud music.
“Waiter! Waiter!”
Again no reply.
Samantha tapped his wrist slightly. “No need to worry yourself, my prince. I’m fine.”
But Eloive would hear nothing of it. He shot up from his chair and headed for the waiter’s stand. He avoided sweaty bodies as he walked. He reached there in no time, and that’s when he saw her. Toreh. She was bent over the sink, washing dishes.
He approached her carefully. “Toreh?”
She looked up, frowning at him. “Eloive? Oh hello,” she said, wiping down her hands on the cloth she wore, which consisted of black pants and a white top.
“Hey. You didn’t tell me you’d be attending the party.”
“I didn’t know I would be in attendance. Could you pass me that sponge over there? This one’s weak.”
Eloive wore a face when he saw the sponge she was referring to. Did she really expect him to touch something so dirty and unclean? Toreh noticed this and sighed.
“Fine. I’ll just take it,” she said, reaching for the sponge while standing on tippy toes.
“No, no, I’ll get it,” Eloive said. He took the sponge and handed it to her. She took it and continued washing.
“How long have you been doing this?”
“Since the beginning of the party, why?”
Eloive blinked. “You mean to tell me that you’ve been doing dishes for hours?” he shrieked.
“Stop yelling. You’re going to draw attention to us if you keep shouting.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I just can’t believe that you’ve been doing dishes for hours.”
“It’s my duty, Eloive. I’m a slave and this is what I do.”
Eloive wished she would stop saying that. She was no slave, at least he didn’t think she was.
“Alright. But you have eaten, right? Rested?”
“I am not permitted to rest, Eloive. I have already eaten, so stop worrying.”
Eloive would hear nothing of it. Samantha forgotten, he said, “Wash your hands; you’re coming with me.”
“Who would wash all these plates if I go with you, Eloive?”
“Someone else would take care of it. Now go to my room. I’ll meet you there.”
She sighed but obliged. Eloive watched her walk away before flagging down a waiter.
“You there. Wash these plates.”
“But my prince?”
“Are you testing my orders?”
“No, my prince.”
“Good. Then get to work.”
Eloive waited until the male servant resumed Toreh’s place, before walking back to Samantha.
“Took you a while my prince.”
“I had to sort out something. Sorry I didn’t get you anything”.
“That’s fine my prince.”
“Do you want to dance?”
Samantha risked a glance at the dance floor. Well, she certainly didn’t want to be among those sweaty bodies but she wouldn’t throw away the opportunity to dance with the son of the Crown Prince. She feigned a smile, placed her hand in his and stood up.
Eloive led her to the center of the dance floor, and swayed her gently to the beat of the music.
“My two cents? They’re going to get married,” Samantha’s father commented, slapping his knee as the effects of the alcohol was starting to get to him. Thjis smiled as he fingered his chin. He knew his grandson very well and he knew he wouldn’t be getting married to Samantha, not when that human girl was around. He’ll have to take care of her, he thought. The last thing he needed was Eloive making the same mistake his father made.
…
It was a quarter to midnight when Eloive sluggishly made his way to his bed chambers. He was absolutely tired. His feet hurt from being stuck in those ridiculous loafers and his arms ached from twirling Samantha around so much. Switching on the lights, he stepped further into his room, frowning when he didn’t see Toreh immediately. Where was she? Had she left already? He sighed and bent to take off his shoes. That’s when he saw her. She was lying face down on the ground, breathing heavily. Eloive shook his head, fighting a smile.
She must have been so tired; she didn’t even reach the bed. He took a look at the choker she had on, and the necklace she wore before scooping her up in his arms. She was surprisingly light and he blamed it on malnutrition.
He dropped her gently on his bed and made to move away but something kept dragging him back. He turned to see his necklace interlocked with hers. Sighing, he took his time to separate their necklaces. He stepped back but the same backward pull was still there. He turned and that’s when he saw her hand wrapped around his wrist. Her eyes were half open, chest rising and falling.
“Stay.”
A simple request. Fulfilling it would put them both in trouble.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said trying to loosen her grip on his wrist. She tightened it.
“Stay Eloive. Do it for me?”
He swallowed hard. He couldn’t trust himself around her and definitely on the bed. She sensed his reluctance so she tapped the empty space beside her. He sighed and took up the space beside her, pulling the covers up, covering both their bodies
He brushed her lip with his thumb and Toreh hitched a breath, looking into his eyes.
“I want to kiss you Toreh. You’ll allow me right?”
She nodded. He pulled her into his arms and sealed her lips with his.
Too engrossed in the kiss, none of them heard the door opening.