5. Livana

Chapter 5

Livana

D estowne is one of the wealthiest townships on the continent, save for Lingate. It's tucked against the western shores, the cerulean ocean sparkling along the city's edges. It's predominantly a mortal town, with the exception of a handful of sorcerers that submitted to the Collector after The Great Purge.

They're licensed to use certain types of magic, and they're even more clever about finding ways to use all the other kinds the Collector deems illegal. Just like all the other creatures who seek refuge in Destowne, hiding among the mortals without the Collector's knowledge.

When the fighting dwindled to immeasurable odds, the Collector allowed the measly opposition to live, so long as they bent the knee to him. These creatures did what they had to do in order to survive, and have been doing their best, just like me, to not draw attention since.

But that changes for me now.

Or at least, once these drifters turn me over.

Zev slows his pace a few miles away from the township's entrance, turning his usual scowl on me. I don't know what he's upset about, I've been mostly quiet and appropriate the entire journey. And I could've complimented the way his ass looks in his trousers at least a half-dozen times, which would've sent him over the edge with annoyance, but I resisted.

"Up," Zev demands after he's climbed atop Rain. He looks ten times more menacing atop the beautiful horse.

I furrow my brow. "Why?"

"Because I said so." Zev's jaw hardens.

"Well, I'm definitely not doing it now."

Jagger huffs a laugh behind me.

Zev sighs, his grip on the reins tightening so much I can hear the leather groan. He points toward Destowne, the skyline peppered with immaculate stone and glass buildings that touch the clouds, all their ornate carvings and adornments glistening under the sun.

"There are a thousand different alleyways you can sneak off to," he says. "And even more buildings to duck and hide in."

"I could've outrun you at any time during this little journey of ours," I counter. "I haven't. I've stayed behind you the entire time."

A ghost of a smirk plays over his lips. "You couldn't outrun me even if you were fully fed, succubus."

I roll my eyes. Cocky bastard.

"Up." He offers his arm, his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows, showing off the rippling muscles beneath his smooth skin. Drifters are raised to be strong, ruthless, and efficient, but I've never seen any built as thoroughly as Zev and Jagger. It's like they both have more than just distant Fae blood in their veins and I hate that I'm curious enough to want to uncover just what other power they may have.

I glare at Zev and hesitate, just to piss him off.

He holds his ground, never budging an inch.

I submit and take his hand. He plucks me off the ground like I don't have curves for days, situating me on the horse right in front of him before clicking his tongue. Rain moves forward, and I fold my arms over my chest, refusing to put my hands anywhere on Zev's body, the most obvious place being the two massive thighs on either side of me.

He's already too close, with his firm, broad chest and abdomen pressed tightly along my spine. Every time Rain moves our bodies rock against each other as Zev guides him into the heart of Destowne.

Spiced chocolate and cedar overtake my senses, the flavor faint but present as it swirls around us. Zev is warm behind me, staving off the chill in the air, his powerful arms encasing me in an embrace that I hate .

He's holding me to trap me, not protect me, but regardless of intention, it feels so damn good.

Physical touch isn't a luxury I'm often afforded, and my body hums at the contact. I want to punch him for it, but I keep my hands to myself. He's taking me where I want to go, after all.

A few more miles and I'll get what I need. Then my head will be clear enough to strategize just how to use the drifters to my advantage.

"Where is this place?" Zev asks, his rough voice at my ear. It sends warm shivers down my back, and I tremble, unable to stop the reaction.

"A few more miles and to the west," I explain, going into more detail about the exact location.

Zev leans over me, drawing his mouth closer to my ear. For a split second, I think he's going to bite me, but instead a low growl rumbles from his chest. "If this is a trap or a ploy to escape, I will make the rest of your life miserable, succubus."

I narrow my gaze, shifting enough to glare at him over my shoulder. "Keep threatening me, drifter," I fire back. "And I'll make you my meal for the night."

"I'd love to see you try."

Goddess, it would be a fight too. He would struggle, not giving an inch as we sparred, until our bodies were wrecked with exertion and strung tight with need. Only when I'd given him every last ounce of my strength would he concede, allowing me an opening to strike his flesh with my fangs. And he'd love it, too, I'd make sure of it. I'd make him love it so much he'd hate himself for it.

Desire pulses strong and achy between my thighs at the visual playing out behind my eyes, and I force myself to snap out of it. I whirl back around, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing me worked up.

The prick gets under my skin.

At least Jagger is fun. I still haven't figured out why he's with Zev, who is the exact opposite of all things fun.

Gilded carriages with blue and gold details roll by us on the wide, cobblestoned streets as we make our way toward The Garden of Flame —the tavern my supplier owns. The people of Destowne are used to travelers, but they're a wary sort, giving us a wide berth and suspicious gazes the deeper we venture into the heart of the city.

The crisp autumn air is drenched in the smell of the sea, coupled with the earthy scent of stone and glass and metalwork that make up the incredible buildings crowding the city. Gold and ruby and emerald and every precious gemstone in between cast rainbows of color along the roads, the citizens dressed as ornately as the structures around them.

A tendril of heat skates along the inside of my forearm, and I discreetly look down, not wanting Zev to see the message.

Are you dancing tonight? Will you think of me while you do?

My heart flutters at Six's message, but I write back quickly before I revel in the little comment too much.

Hard to think about someone I've never met.

We can remedy that . He replies back in a blink. Come to Lingate.

My brow furrows as I search for the proper response to a question he's asked before, only this time, I am going to Lingate. The place I've purposefully avoided but dreamed about going all my life.

The place where I'll finally meet the Collector. The male responsible for not only my suffering, but that of so many after his unnecessary war, all in the name of balance and peace. Which, of course, is horseshit. He ruled with fear, not compassion.

"What are you glaring at, succubus?" Zev asks, and I drop my arm, thankful the gold writing has already faded.

I scramble for an answer, then sigh in relief when I find one hanging on the tallest building in front of us. "That," I say, pointing at the giant portrait of the Collector's son. "What an absolute bastard."

The prince sits on a throne in the portrait, dressed in the royal colors of red and black, the fabric covering his body tailored to every lithely muscled inch of him. Raven-black hair shapes his face, looking silky smooth as it feathers the sharp line of his jaw. Eyes of silver pierce the skyline, as if he's seeing right through every soul who dares to look at him.

Zev grunts behind me, and I have to turn to look at him.

"Was that a grunt of agreement?" I ask, shock billowing through me that we may have one thing in common.

He grunts again, but adds a little nod. I smile as if I've won some great victory.

"You agree with me on something," I say, smirking. "Are we going to be friends now?"

"He claims he doesn't have any friends," Jagger answers before Zev can reply, and I glance down at him where he casually walks by the horse's side. "But we both know that isn't true, right, Zev?"

Zev cocks a brow at Jagger, then stiffens behind me. "I don't have any friends."

Jagger laughs.

"Everyone thinks the prince is a prick," Zev continues. "It's doesn't make you special."

Ah, but I plan to kill him too. Right after I kill his father. So I am special, because no one is as reckless to attempt that.

I look up at the picture again as we slowly pass it, hate simmering in my stomach. He may have been a youngling when the attack came upon my family, but rumors say he's worse than his father, already gathering his own collection of magical creatures, all imprisoned in that damn gilded palace of theirs.

He deserves to die just as much as his father.

And then the Treasure too, the Collector's most prized possession, the creature he took for a wife after the prince's mother passed. The Treasure that he covets so much only those within Lingate's high walls have ever seen her. Taking away anything he loves seems like suitable act of revenge, seeing as he took everything from me.

The thought of their blood staining their golden floors has my fangs throbbing, not that I'd take one taste of them. I'm sure their blood is as poisonous as their political agenda.

"If you think the prince is a prick," I say, eying Zev. "Then why are you doing his and his father's bidding?"

Drifters are at the mercy of the Collector's orders, after all.

"I have my reasons," he says, something like devastation flashing in those harsh golden eyes. A blink, and it's gone. I could've imagined the emotion for how sharp his gaze is now.

"Reasons," I say, just because I can't stop myself. "Like kneeling to a corrupt and unjust ruler dead set on suppressing anyone with magical abilities that could pose a threat?"

"Careful, succubus," he warns. "Do not pretend to know me or my intentions. You were not there when he wiped out the tresses, one of the most powerful royal houses across the continent. You would've bent too."

I swallow hard, my heart stuttering in my chest. I take a breath, grasping my emotions before they spiral out of control.

"It was awful," Jagger says. "We were young, but he took them out so strategically. And the battle after…there was no chance. So many submitted in hopes of survival after that," he continues. "But when it came to the drifters? He saw an opportunity to use us and took it." Jagger's shoulders tense. "When you're standing between a choice for your life or death, it's not so easy a decision to make."

Something like empathy squeezes my insides, but it's hard to hold on to when I have so much hate for the Collector.

Before him, the continent was ruled by the four royal families, the houses of power—Shifter, Tress, Fae, and Drifter. Each house ruled over their own territory, offering protection and tolerance for all manner of creatures and mortals who dwelled in their lands. The houses would come together to make decisions about any conflicts between territories, but most were relatively peaceful. Magic was free to use at will, save for violence, which was punishable after a just trail.

Being a shifter himself, the Collector rose to power by gaining the houses' trust, swaying them with a charm that painted him in an innocent, supportive image. His thirst for total power over the entire continent and all the creatures in it was well hidden.

And since the tressess held the most magical power—power that could force shifters to stay in one form or another or dispatch of them with a snap of their fingers—the Collector targeted them first in his quest for dominance.

If the tressess would've been paying any attention, they would've seen his intent and wiped him out with one burst of magic.

But they didn't see. And they all died because of it.

After this the Fae and drifters and some of the other creatures took up arms against him, leading to a long and bloody battle that they couldn't win. Not when the Collector had recruited thousands of mortals and turned just as many creatures with powers to fill his armies.

After so much bloodshed, those rare survivors submitted to his rule, and the mortals had always followed him, ever flocking to the winning side of the war lest they be on his Purge list next. He's eliminated thousands who even pose a tiny threat to his reign, while leaving enough alone and alive to appear tolerant.

And the Collector used the submitting drifter's abilities to encite fear on any creature he decides he wants to collect.

He's been on the throne ever since, doing his best to keep the mortals on the continent loyal and the creatures still left alive fearful.

Senseless.

I shake my head, turning forward once more.

The sun makes a slow descent behind the horizon, the colorful city lighting up with magic and fire, all supplied by the Collector's sorcerers thanks to Destowne's undying loyalty to his crown.

But none of the buildings shine as brightly in the newly birthed night sky like The Garden of Flame, not that the mortals would ever know it. No, Sirius—my supplier—ensures only non-mortals can see the kaleidoscope of colors cast upon the sky, a beacon of trust and safety to all creatures in hiding.

Hope blooms in my chest as Zev halts Rain outside the glass-domed building, the shape looking like a full moon rimmed in blistering gold. The double doors are made of wrought iron ensconced panes of glass with all manner of enchantments etched into intricately beautiful designs across them.

Inside holds promises of pleasure—food, drink, intimacy, and everything in between. For me, it promises the medication I need to survive, and the blood I need to regain my strength.

I try to slide off of Rain's back, but Zev holds me steady, dismounting first, keeping his hands locked around my wrists as he gets his footing. I look down at him from this height, watch him as he scans my face, then the building before us.

"If you run?—"

"Yeah, yeah," I say, wiggling free of his grasp. "You'll catch me." I cast my gaze to Jagger. "Help me down?"

Jagger smirks, playfully pushing Zev out of the way before reaching for me. I brace my hands on his broad shoulders as he grips my waist, lifting me off the horse. He pulls me close to his chest, eyes never leaving mine as he slowly lowers me to the ground, every inch of his hard body grazing mine with the move.

Cinnamon and ginger and mischief swirl around my senses, plucking them like he would his guitar strings. Goddess, he doesn't even try to hide his desire, doesn't try to lock it down under those famous drifter mental shields. He's either that confident or that unafraid of me. Or maybe he craves danger like I crave blood, and flirting with a succubus dances right on that line.

"Jagger," Zev says in a warning tone, but Jagger's still holding my hips, our gaze never breaking. " Jagger ," he says again, more forcefully this time.

Jagger blinks, smiling before releasing me. I take a step back, my pulse thrumming as I head toward the doors of The Garden of Flame .

I pause before the thickly built guard posted at the door, flashing him a wink.

"Tev," I say in a sweet greeting. "It's been too long."

"Nice to see you again," Tev says, dragging two fingers down an enchantment on the door. "They with you?" he asks, nodding behind me to Jagger and Zev.

"For the night at least," I say, glancing behind me. "Maybe longer if they're lucky."

Tev laughs, a brutish sound that is both comforting and terrifying. He's worked for Sirius for decades. Nothing gets by him, and thanks to his centaur blood, he's incredibly strong with keen senses that almost match mine.

Thankfully for me, he's as openminded as Sirius, never judging me for being a succubus. I love him and this establishment all the more for it. It's nice to know there is one safe haven out here still out of the Collector's reach. Sirius is just that powerful to keep it hidden.

"Ah," Tev says after studying the two behind me. "But will they behave, Livana?"

"Livana," Jagger says my name with a hint of surprise. " Livana ," he says again, like he's testing it on his tongue, and the way he almost sings it has warm shivers bursting along my skin.

I glance over my shoulder, but find Zev furrowing his brow, like something just occurred him.

"What?" I ask. "You shocked I actually have a name other than Succubus ?" I mock his rough, deep tenor, applying a scowl on my face for good measure.

Zev grunts, motioning for me to move along.

I shake my head, offering my wrist to Tev who gently flicks the tip of a quill over my skin. A zap of magic sizzles over the spot, which now displays an intricate design of circles and flowers, all interloping with each other in The Garden of Flame's signature design.

Jagger doesn't hesitate to hold out his wrist.

Zev does.

Because of course he does.

"It wears off once you leave the tavern," Tev explains at Zev's hesitance. "It's a binding magical contract." He nods toward the now opened doors. "In there, we have no enemies, regardless of past blood feuds, interspecies conflict, or historical wrongs. I don't care if you spot your Matched fucking a pixie in the corner, you don't attack. In there, everyone is here for the same thing—escape, freedom, and a scrap of safety on this fucked up continent. Break that rule, and we'll know. And trust me, you don't want to find out what happens if you don't follow the rules."

"I don't have a Matched," Zev says low and lethal, but at least he gives Tev his arm.

"Shocker," Tev says as I lead the way inside. "Try and have some fun."

"I'm not sure this one knows how," I say, motioning behind me.

"If anyone can show him," Tev calls after us, "it's you."

I laugh, winking at him again before heading deeper into the tavern. Zev rolls his eyes, killing the momentary joy.

"Be quick," he says into my ear.

"Nothing about this will be quick." I turn and face him, shaking my head. "I haven't run off…" I remind him. "Besides, I think you need a drink more than me."