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Eight

Lennon rolled his eyes before she could even speak.

“Well hello to you too” she sneered at him, handing me a small cup of what smelled like wine. “A peace offering,” she said with a wicked grin.

Lennon snatched the wine out of her hand and downed it. “Don’t ever drink the wine here,” he warned, cupping my waist and scooting me closer to him. “If you want to offer us an actual peace offering, show me where I can get Ace some clothes.”

She stepped between us, forcing his hand to slip away from my waist, and casually linked her arm through his. “Gladly,” she said.

I faltered, falling back a step as my gaze fixed on them walking ahead of me. Their arms casually linked, moving in sync as if they had done it a thousand times before. The connection between them was palpable, a shared history I wasn’t part of. A sharp pang twisted in my chest, jealousy surging through me like a bitter wave. I hated how natural they looked together, how effortlessly Veronika fit by his side. The distance between us grew, not just in steps but in the invisible divide that seemed to widen with each heartbeat. It was a feeling I couldn’t shake, that gnawing sense of being an outsider, of wanting something—someone—that might never be mine. Just as I sunk deeper into my own thoughts, a strong hand gripped my arm, the force of it sending a jolt of terror through me. Before I could react, I was yanked into a shadowed alleyway, the noise of the bustling crowd swallowed by the darkness that suddenly surrounded me. My breath caught in my throat as I found myself cornered by four shirtless males, their bodies covered in ink, the intricate runes mixed with designs swirling across their skin like living shadows. The stench of sour wine and cigars clung to the males like a toxic cloud, making my stomach churn. Their eyes were dark, almost black, and glittered with something vile—something that sent a chill crawling down my spine. They leered at me, their expressions twisted with malice and hunger, and I could practically feel the filth radiating off them in waves. These were no ordinary Sidhe; they were disgusting, the worst kind of predators. Fear clamped around my heart, tightening with every heartbeat. I glanced around desperately, searching for an escape, but the alley was narrow, their bodies forming an impenetrable barrier. Panic surged, and I lunged forward, trying to break through them, but one of them was quicker. He shoved me back, the rough stone wall slamming into my spine with a force that knocked the wind out of me. Pain radiated through my body, sharp and unrelenting, as I crumpled against the wall, gasping for air. For a moment, I struggled against the inevitable, fighting to find a way out, but the reality of my situation sank in. There was no escape. Defeated, I stood there, pressing myself against the cold, unforgiving stone, my eyes wide as I stared at them. They circled me like predators, their eyes cold and appraising as they began to pick apart my appearance with cruel words, each insult like a dagger to my already raw nerves.

“Have you ever noticed those dark circles under your eyes?” One of them asked.

Another pinched at my hip “Do they not have food over there on the human lands? You’re very skinny in my opinion.” he laughed.

Another tore out a few strands of my hair, “It looks like straw, in my opinion,” he hissed.

My pulse thundered in my ears, and my body trembled with fear and anger, but I forced myself to remain still, to not give them the satisfaction of seeing how deeply their words cut. But they knew as each statement cleared a rune from their bare bodies. Truth farmers. Beneath the surface, I was breaking, fear and pain twisting into something darker, something that threatened to consume me whole.

One of them snarled at me, nostrils flaring “Are you aware that human smell is disgusting to us?”

Another flicked at my eyebrow, “There are wrinkles around your eyes, you look tired in my opinion”

“All alone on Sidhe land, you look lonely in my opinion.” The most vile-looking one said, making a crude gesture near his pants.

“You really think that reject Princeling Lennon will want to fuck a human? One that looks and smells like you?”

Something inside me snapped, a wild, uncontrollable fury igniting in the pit of my stomach. Without thinking, I lashed out, my fist connecting with the face of the male who dared insult my friend. Lennon was good-hearted and kind, he had helped me, a stranger to his species. He had helped me, knowing I had nothing to offer. I felt more protective of him than I did of myself. The satisfying crunch of bone under my knuckles echoed in the alleyway as he staggered back, his hands flying to his nose as blood gushed between his fingers. Another one lunged at me, his hand outstretched to grab me. Instinct took over, my body moving before my mind could catch up. I blocked his arm with my forearm and drove my fist into his stomach with all the force I could muster. He doubled over, a wheezing gasp escaping his lips as the air was knocked out of him. My eyes were wide, adrenaline coursing through my veins, sharpening my senses, making every movement feel like a blur of instinct and rage. For a brief moment, I was startled by my own reflexes, the sheer speed and strength of my reactions. But that moment of surprise cost me. The other two males, seizing the opportunity, rushed forward and grabbed me, pinning me against the wall. My back slammed into the unforgiving stone, the rough surface scraping through my leathers as one of them wrapped his hand around my throat. He squeezed, cutting off my air, and I clawed at his arm, but his grip was like iron. Their strength was otherwordly. My vision started to blur, the world narrowing to the feeling of cold fingers digging into my skin, the pressure on my windpipe, and the icy realization that I was trapped. Just as the world around me began to darken, a voice pierced through the fog of my fading consciousness—

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Lennon’s voice. “Ace!” he roared, the sound carrying a mix of fury and command that made the males freeze for a heartbeat before scattering like shadows chased by the dawn.

Their footsteps pounded the cobblestones as they fled, leaving me gasping for breath, my throat raw and burning. My knees gave way, and I slid down the wall, my body trembling as I clutched at my throat, coughing and trying to force air back into my lungs. Lennon was there in an instant, his arms wrapping around me, grounding me. I looked up at him, his face a blur through the tears that had sprung to my eyes. The fear that had gripped me moments before was still there, but now it was mixed with something else—relief. He’d come for me.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” His voice was low, tinged with a rough edge that betrayed the guilt simmering beneath the surface. "I should’ve never let you out of my sight," he murmured, the words heavy with regret.

It was as if each syllable was a burden he was forcing himself to carry, the weight of his own perceived failure. I could hear the remorse lacing every word, his usually steady tone faltering just enough for me to catch the pain he was trying to hide. I tried to speak, to reassure him that I was okay, but the moment I opened my mouth, it felt like I was swallowing sandpaper. My throat was raw, the words trapped behind a painful rasp. Frustration clawed at me, and I forced myself to swallow, wincing at the burning sensation that followed. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flash of movement at the entrance of the alleyway. Veronika stood there, her expression one of cold indifference, but as our eyes met, she scoffed, the sound sharp and dismissive. Without a word, she turned on her heel and walked away, her back straight, unbothered. A sickening realization twisted in my gut as I watched her retreating figure. She had sent those males after me. It was all a game to her, one she had orchestrated with chilling precision. The air around me felt heavier, suffocating as the truth settled in—Veronika wasn’t just cruel; she was dangerous. Lennon’s gaze followed Veronika as she sauntered away, and I saw the moment his expression shifted, fury darkening his features. His jaw clenched so tightly that I could see the muscle twitching beneath his skin, and his eyes, usually warm and steady, burned with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat. It wasn’t just anger—it was something deeper, more primal. The air around him seemed to thrum with barely contained rage, and I swore I could almost feel it, like a storm gathering on the horizon. His fury was terrifying, a force that seemed to crackle and seethe beneath the surface, and for a moment, I wondered if even Veronika realized how close she was to provoking something truly dangerous. He clenched his fists, knuckles white, and I felt a shiver race down my spine. Blood dripped from his hands as he attempted to hide the black claws that pierced through his fingers. Lennon’s wrath was a living thing, a beast coiled and ready to strike, and it scared me more than I wanted to admit. His nostrils flared as he scented the fear rolling off me—the fear of him. His eyes widened, and he quickly retracted his claws, the sharp talons vanishing as if they’d never been there, the blood on his hands disappearing with the tangy scent of magic. He held out his now-normal hands, palms up, showing me they were just as human-looking as before.

“Sorry,” he murmured, his voice gentle yet firm. “It’s okay, you’re okay. They’re not going to get away with what they just did. None of them. I’ll make sure of it.”

Slowly, he lifted a hand toward my throat, the movement careful, almost hesitant. His fingers barely brushed the tender skin, and warmth spread from his touch as his magic flowed through me, soothing the rawness until the pain was just a memory.

Tears still clouded my vision, but finally able to speak I said “I’m okay, thank you for coming.”

His shoulders slackened with relief at the sound of my voice, the tension in his body easing as if he’d been holding his breath. His eyes softened as he took in my recovered state, but then an eyebrow arched in surprise, a flicker of admiration lighting his gaze.

“You downed two of those guys,” he said, his tone a mix of disbelief and impressed curiosity.

“Reflex,” I groaned, lifting myself up.

“Some reflexes, a human downing two Sidhe males is unheard of.”

Hearing him call me "human" yanked me back to reality, snapping the fragile thread that had momentarily tethered me to a sense of belonging. All the vile things those males had spat at me came rushing back, their cruel words slicing through the lingering haze of fear. The image of Lennon locking arms with Veronika flashed in my mind, a painful reminder of the divide between us—between me and this world. I was different. An outsider. I felt ugly, like a stain on some beautiful intricate garment, a garment I would never truly be part of. He noticed the blank stare on my face, the way I was spiraling inward, and his expression softened with concern.

"Come on," he said gently, his voice cutting through the numbness that had settled over me. "Let's get you home. I'll send someone to bring the clothes later." He reached out, his hand hovering near mine as if waiting for permission to guide me out of this nightmare.