82. Rhyland

Rhyland

82

W e've claimed a booth in the darkest corner of the club, and I watch like a predator as Dani and Emily sashay their way over. Dani's got that tipsy swagger, her steps all out of sync, and giggles spilling out of her—it's hot as hell. She's lit just right for the dirty shit I've got planned. The girls reach our table, and Dani slams her drink down like she owns the place.

"Gentlemen," she nods, her eyes finding mine, that sassy grin on her lips. "You summoned, Viking Lord ?"

Fuck me. The way she purrs 'Viking Lord,' with that seductive edge and those 'come fuck me' eyes pulling me in—it's taking every ounce of willpower not to throw her over my shoulder caveman-style and claim what's mine.

After the stunt in the shower, it's only fair I play back. Dani's always pushing my buttons, and I'll be damned if I'm not gonna push right back. "Oh, I summoned, alright," I growl, my voice dripping with dark promise, eyes locked on hers. "Please take a seat." I pat the space beside me, a silent command more than a request.

Lucian rolls his eyes, scanning their inebriated faces with annoyance and amusement. "For crying out loud, if it isn't the Boozy Bunch! You two look like you've been hitting the sauce harder than a frat boy at a keg party. Come on, give it to me straight—how many rounds have you lovely ladies put away? And I'm not talking about the kind you use in the bedroom."

Emily raises her voice, words slurring together like a drunk text, "Seriously? Who's keeping score at this point? What do we look like, mathematicians?"

Lucian lifts his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug, offering a knowing smirk. "Well, that answers that. You two are drunker than a skunk at a wine tasting."

I watch Lucian go into full sass mode, his eyebrows practically hitting his hairline as he sees Dani and Emily's drunken shenanigans. I can't help but chuckle, enjoying the show. It's not every day that I get to see Dani let her hair down like this, and even though I should be concerned about her level of intoxication, I can't help but find it adorable. There's something about seeing her so carefree and uninhibited that makes me want to... take her hard and claim her repeatedly.

Whispering in her ear, "Keep this up, sweetheart, and you might find yourself at my mercy. Wouldn't that be a predicament?" I tease, a sly smile playing on my lips as I hold Dani's gaze with confidence and challenge.

She shoots me a playful glare, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol (and maybe a little something else). "Oh, please. Like you're one to talk, Mr. 'I can drink an entire liquor store and still bench press a Buick.' Besides, we're just having a little fun. No harm, no foul."

I lean back in my seat, a smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth. "Oh, I'm all for a little fun, baby. But let's say I have a different kind of party in mind."

Lucian makes a gagging noise, pretending to stick his finger down his throat. "Ugh, get a room, you two. Some of us are trying to keep our dinner down over here."

I flip him the bird, not taking my eyes off Dani. "Jealousy is a disease, Lucian. Get well soon."

He laughs, shaking his head. "Please. Like I'd ever be jealous of you two lovebirds. I prefer my women with a little less 'happily ever after' and a little more 'happy ending,' if you catch my drift."

I roll my eyes but can't help but chuckle.

I pull Dani closer to me and gently trace my hand up her exposed thigh. She takes in a sharp breath, clearly aroused by the combination of the drinks, my blood, and our earlier activities. She's not fooling me. "Are you girls all caught up?"

With another tilt of her cocktail, Dani confirms, "Yup, just like no time's passed. Emily's clued in on everything."

"Good, that means we can speak without any bullshit filters," I state.

Dani nods, then waves to Emily. "Go ahead. Tell 'em everything you dumped on me. Get these guys up to speed."

Lucian's expression is puzzled. "Fill us in on what exactly? What the hell's going on?"

Emily starts laying out the whole situation in our realm. The shake-ups with the werewolf packs and their territories, the witches popping up like weeds, and the fresh crop of rules, especially in sin havens like Karma.

Erik finally chimes in, his tone cool as steel, "We were just informed of this ourselves—it was only a matter of time before all things supernatural revealed themselves."

Lucian runs his fingers through his golden blonde hair, his brow furrowing in frustration. "Yeah— it makes perfect sense why my club has taken a dive—the money I've lost, the drop in clientele."

Lucian was in the middle of grilling his club partner over the drop in crowd numbers. His partner was trying to trace back every change during our five-year absence. These new asinine laws were clamping down on any real fun, scaring regulars away. And to top off this crap fest, the witches are stirring up a whole heap of trouble, making everyone edgy as hell.

"There's something else," Emily says, and our heads snap up in unison like we're on puppet strings. "Get this—Azrael, Mister Tall-Dark-and-Drink-Your-Blood, crowned himself king of the fang parade because the vamp council vanished. Now he's sitting pretty on his self-made throne. No one's throwing shade or challenging him. He's practically BFFs with the witchy cliques." Her voice tightens, and it's clear the supernatural political climate just got more interesting—or dangerous.

It figures. Once the real dangers are gone, trust Azrael to snatch control. This gets me thinking—what happened to the council? Were they really taken out?

"Where's he hiding out?" I press Emily, "Same shithole?"

Emily tosses out the info like she's dealing cards, "As far as I know, not even the big-shots in suits are giving him side-eye. The guy waltzes onto live TV, feeds everyone some grade-A bullshit about 'protection' and 'mortals need not fear,' and—bam! He's got new laws popping up like weeds. It's like he's preaching the vampire's Ten Commandments, and everyone's nodding along. Guess the fangs and charisma combo does wonders. The whole thing is so damn theatrical—you half expect him to take a bow and disappear in a puff of smoke." Emily rolls her eyes, skepticism dripping from her words.

"Okay, now that we're all caught up on the latest episode of 'Vampire Dickwad Azrael and the Shitshow That Is the New World Order,'" Lucian chimes in with his usual snark. He looks knowingly at me, his eyebrows practically waggling off his face. "Don't keep the lady waiting. Show her what you've got, and I don't mean the 'impressive' equipment you're packing below the belt."