26. Aurelia

Chapter 26

Aurelia

M innie's pack leave in one of the SUVs, along with a set of mysterious cheetah twins called Blair and Blade. They are slender but lithe males with dark hair and eyes; quiet and observant, like weapons honed over many years. Together, they would bring back our friend.

"Lady Boneweaver," one of them says quietly, sweeping a bow. The other bows at the same time but remains silent.

"Two of Scythe's assassins," Lyle says into my mind.

A memory comes back to me from a few years ago, of an underground fight where the two brothers sat in the crowd, a little way from the rest. They stuck out to me because they mostly kept to themselves. "I remember them," I tell him. "Blair doesn't have a tongue, right?"

Lyle raises his brows and I grin back. "I used to get around, remember?"

He grimaces. "How can I forget? You should have been protected from that world, regina."

And look at me now.

The rest of us pile into the other car. We say goodbye on a sombre note, fully aware that Sabrina's rescue could go wrong in any number of ways.

"If I don't hear about it on the morning news," Minnie declares, brushing at her black jumpsuit ninja outfit with mock arrogance, "you didn't try hard enough, Lia."

I let out an unladylike snort before hugging her tight and telling her to be careful.

They leave and I turn to see both Lyle and Scythe standing by my open passenger door.

"Do you think there'll be serpents there tonight?" I ask, trying to sound casual.

"They'll be staying in their dirty holes," Xander sneers, passing me to get into the back seat. "They know I'll be there."

It makes my skin crawl to think of my father turning up with his retinue, leering and waving at me.

"Mace won't show up," Scythe says, eyes uncharacteristically glimmering. "It would be embarrassing for him."

"How so?"

Scythe's lips make the whisper of a smirk. "Because I've stolen his daughter away."

I break out into a sweat at the weight in his words as he walks around the car. I'm not used to walking in stilettos this high and it only adds to the sensation of feeling like I'm walking on uneven ground when it comes to Scythe. Thankfully, Lyle helps me into the passenger seat, making sure my gown is all settled before getting into the driver's side.

As we head out into the night, I fidget with the edge of my dress until Xander loses it.

"Do not exhibit prey behaviours," he snaps, leaning forward in the seat behind me. "Do not fidget. Do not shuffle your feet or bite your lip or play with your hair."

I'm about to make a retort when I realise he's listed everything I actually do when I'm nervous.

"You've been watching me," I say softly.

"How can I not? You beg for attention."

"I really don't, Xander."

"Don't use my name," he snaps.

"I really don't, Lord Giant Reptile."

He snarls. Smoke and a faint burning scent fills the car in one exhale from Xander and Lyle opens his window to let it out. "Aurelia," he chides.

"I'm just hyping him up for the evening," I say sweetly. "We need him at his best."

"Naughty girl," Scythe's voice slides into my mind and I jump in my seat. "Save the sass. You'll need it for later."

We pull into a driveway that leads to a carpark lit with bright white floodlights. Rounding a corner, a massive three-story black building with gold lettering on the second story, reading ‘The Jewel of the Jungle' stands before us. It's an impressive building that oozes power, and the anima in me recognises that many predators lurk here tonight. Goosebumps erupt all over me, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. The spaces between my knuckles tingle as my body urges me to shift so we can protect ourselves better. So we can fly away to safety.

Safety is not something we cling to, but something we destroy.

Alright then, Scythe. Serpent Princess it is.

Once we're parked in the big parking lot, Lyle and Scythe look at me at the same time, one with eyes that glitter, the other with eyes that lure. There is a heavy silence, laden with meaning, that makes my heart stutter.

In the last seven years, I've been made to feel like an outcast, a pariah. A creature not worth anyone's time.

That feeling has suddenly and irrevocably been set alight and turned into ash. The backs of my eyes burn as raw emotion charges through me with the force of a stampede.

Because it's only now that I realise this dress is a statement. The message that Scythe is putting on a billboard. That I'm the jewel. That I am something precious. Special. Rare. That being different doesn't mean that I should be cast away. But that I should be treasured.

The men get out of the car and I take the moment of silence to steel myself. Savage is in there, waiting for me. In amongst the malevolent, bloodthirsty creatures is my bloodthirsty creature. I would kill for these males. Have killed for them.

And they would kill for me.

It will be alright.

Lyle opens my door and I swing both feet out, taking his offered hand and grasping it for strength. His eyes hungrily take me in as I step out and we begin walking up to the big stone arch entrance.

"Drop her hand," Scythe says into the group chat. "Straighten your spine. Plant your feet firmly with each stride."

Scythe coaching me on confidence puts me all up in my feels, but I can't afford to get sappy-eyed now.

Every second of said stride reveals my left leg up to my thigh, and I can't help but feel sexy . I allow myself to fall into a little strut as we come up to the entrance guarded by a group of six beasts. They seem to bleed out of the shadows as we approach, assessing us for our power and status. I count two hyenas, two wolves and two felines. While the style of their clothing varies anywhere from suits to track pants to denim cutoffs, they are all dressed in black or grey.

Most incline their heads when they see Scythe, some even bow. They all step aside to watch us pass, and as I follow Scythe in, every eye catches on me, realising who I must be.

This is it. This is my debut , as Marduk called it. This is where I announce who I am to the most powerful and influential crime lords, mob bosses, and underworld figures in the state.

RnB music pumps through the sound system and my heels click along the floor with each meaningful step. It smells like testosterone, cigar smoke, and women's perfume.

"Chin up," Lyle mentally reminds me. "Shoulders back. Good girl."

My stomach flops on itself at the approval in his voice, and once again as we come out of the entrance tunnel and enter The Jewel of the Jungle.

It's larger than I imagined. More like a hall, with sections where the crime lords entertain their own, and communal areas with grouped black leather couches in the centre. There's a long varnished wooden bar stretching across the entire far side with many shelves of expensive alcohol. Males and females lounge in chairs, or…in laps, dressed in sexy clothing, dripping in jewels and gold.

The entire space quietens as we enter.

From ahead, power ripples along my skin like the crash of an ocean wave. From behind, power emanates in a halo like a lion's mane, and behind that, a furious volcanic heat sizzles outwards. Scythe, Lyle, Xander and I fall into step as their combined powers spread through the entire room in a powerful declaration.

We are here.

So I add my own power to the mix.

I drop my shields, leaving only psychic defences in place. It unfurls like a pair of golden wings, catching the other powers like a sail and billowing powerfully.

There are hyenas on my left and hawks on my right, but it's the Clawson tigers next to them who stare the most. Big males and females take up a lot of space, glaring at me as if I've spat on them. They want to kill me, I realise with horror. Like they actually want to tear me apart. I couldn't have hurt Titus that badly. Egotistical maniacs. I'm also surprised he's not here.

In another life, my mother's mate would have sat with them, holding his court, leading his beasts with respect.

"I do not like the way they're staring at you," Lyle murmurs into my head. "Should I fuck you right here and tell them all you're mine?"

"More staring will be done yet," Scythe says. "Hold your beast, Lyle."

A male approaches Xander, striding behind me. "My lord," he says, "please, can I—" and it's not until the loud crash and scent of the blood that I know he's shoved the beast so hard his head cracked open on the floor.

After that, it feels like my sinuses have opened and I notice the two serpents right away. Theirs is a corner space, with Xander being right about them being reluctant to come tonight. I know they are there, hidden amongst the shadows where the dim lights of the room don't reach. Spies. Tattletales ready to report back tonight's events to their master.

Scythe claims a spot in a warmly lit corner of the room, which looks like a prime position to me, and there is already a group of males patiently waiting for us. They stand as we approach and incline their heads respectfully.

Scythe nods back and takes the seat clearly left for him, surveying us in a bored and cold manner. It's the cornermost seat, a black and gold low-backed leather chair that looks like a throne. This is Scythe's space. And he commands it not like a general, but a cold, dark king.

Xander takes a spot a little away from everyone else, immediately taking out a joint. One of the wolves hurries forward to light it for him.

Scythe holds out his hand, indicating that I take the plush black and gold seat next to him. Without missing a beat, I stride up to him, take his hand and sit down as gracefully as I can, crossing my legs at the ankles and trying to master the unimpressed look.

Everyone else sits down after that, with Lyle taking a seat on my other side. It's then that I see a group of women, barely dressed, waiting, on their knees, just beyond the last couch of our section. I tear my eyes off them as a man in his forties—a jaguar, by his scent—presents Scythe with a new bottle of top-shelf whisky. Scythe nods and the jaguar opens it, then pours it into a crystal glass held by another jaguar.

It's interesting that Scythe has a collection of orders working for him. Animalia usually stick to their own, but with Scythe being a marine shifter, he never had that option unless he wanted severely unstable beasts wandering around. I can tell he trusts these beasts implicitly, and I don't even want to imagine the things they'd done to inspire that kind of trust.

"And for the lady?" the jaguar asks, bowing and looking respectfully at the carpet beyond my feet.

"She'll have the same," Scythe rasps.

I refrain from making a face because I can't stand whiskey.

There must have been some non-visual signal because the waiting women suddenly scuttle forward. And when I say scuttle, I mean scuttle , because they literally crawl before me. One, in a gold G-string bikini and black leather collar, crawls as fast as she can towards Scythe, brushing her long chestnut hair over her shoulder to bare her long, tanned neck as she reaches him. I hold my breath, my hackles rising, but she does not touch him directly. Seemingly, this is a rule everyone knows because instead, in a very feline manner, she rubs one cheek on the armrest near to his hand and then turns and does the same with the other cheek. She whines in her throat when he doesn't touch her.

"My lord," she whines, "May I?—"

"There is no need to talk," Scythe rasps, without looking at her. "There is no need to stay."

She pouts as she crawls away and I have to keep my eyes off her because I'm suddenly imagining that slender neck between my teeth.

But on my other side, a red-headed girl crawls into Xander's lap. At one of our first days at the academy, Xander set a girl's hair on fire for not getting off his lap, but to this girl, wearing a thong and nothing else, her large tits bare as she presses herself against him, he sets his hand on her milky pale thigh. She runs long red nails up his biceps, smiling up at him suggestively.

My stomach roils as the urge to vomit and rage lashes through me like lightning. I want to stride over there, rip that girl off him by the hair and then wrench Xander to his feet by his collar. The dragon smirks at no one in particular, and I just know he's aware of my anger and loving every second of it.

That cements it.

There will be no reaction from me. I won't give him the satisfaction.

The other girls roam around, offering drinks, cigarettes, and giggles. A curly blonde in a tiny red babydoll dress offers Lyle a cigar from a case, but he ignores her, instead taking my hand and pressing kisses to my fingers, one by one. She moves on, but not before looking me up and down.

A primal tug draws my attention to the right side of the room. As I survey the bar, a small crowd gathered there parts, and my heart skips a beat. And then another. Something in the core of my being howls in a ferocious song.

Because I've just seen my wolf.

And this is in no way, shape or form, how I imagined our reunion. Savage is shirtless, lying on his back on the bar while the grinning bartender pours Johnny Walker Black Label right into his open mouth while male and female wolves excitedly gather around him. I frown though, because something black and cage-like is fixed to his face. It looks almost exactly like?—

"Is that a muzzle?" I shriek into the group chat.

"Do not approach him," Scythe commands. "Let him come to you. Let everyone come to you."

"Is. That. A. Muzzle. Scythe?"

"A condition of his entry after a previous altercation," the shark replies smoothly.

"He tore out someone's neck with his human teeth one too many times, " Xander drawls. "It wasn't undeserved, but they were too scared to have him in here without protection."

"What did the last guy do?" I ask reluctantly.

Xander knocks back his glass. "He stepped on Sav's foot."

As if he's heard us, Savage swings himself up to sit on the bar. He locks eyes with me and I swear those hazel irises glow. He's wearing nothing but black track pants and is barefoot, the bare, tattooed muscles of his rippling torso drawing my eye as I take him in. Even from here, I see his pupils dilate as the space between us snaps like a rubber band.