The Ravenous Dark, page 2
Bailey ground her teeth together, grasping at the threads of her patience. "I get that. I wouldn't be here with you if I didn't, but this is the sixth time you've ditched us in a row to pursue some lead. Plus, you've been taking the solo track more and more often. What if something happens to you?"
"I'm always careful. You don't have to worry so much, Bailey. Besides, I'd take you with me if I needed you." River shrugged. "I'm sorry, but I've got to go." With her parting words delivered, River slipped through the crowd toward the exit. Bailey tracked her for as long as she could before she disappeared underneath the glare of the DJ's flashing lights.
I’d take you if I needed you. Bailey clenched her jaw as River’s words rattled off in her head with a mocking lilt.
The casual dismissal stung, but it was River’s blasé attitude toward her own safety that was beginning to worry Bailey more. Surviving the Dark Court was a hell of a lot easier if you had someone you could trust watching your back. If something happens to River and I’m not there to protect her—Bailey’s blood ran cold at the thought.
She would never forgive herself.
"Are you all right?" Stella prodded carefully. Bailey blinked and unclenched her jaw with effort before nodding. Only a handful of people were aware of River's true reasons for coming to the Dark Court, Stella being one of them. If the wrong people discovered what they were up to, a real witch hunt would ensue. She eyed Bailey with concern as the she-wolf crossed her arms.
"I'm fine," she huffed unconvincingly as her heart gave a painful squeeze. "I just don't want her to get in over her head. I get that I can't be there to help her every step of the way but keeping me out of the loop isn't smart. The Dark Court is too unpredictable. She needs someone to have her back whether she likes it or not."
"Have you said that to her?" The faintest hint of color rose to Bailey's cheeks in an unspoken answer. "Maybe you should, sooner rather than later."
Bailey quirked both eyebrows. "Any other bits of wisdom you'd like to share?"
"You're not dressed up enough for this event." Stella's dry delivery coaxed a smile out of Bailey, followed by a brash laugh. The she-wolf tossed her head back, her ponytail swaying. She'd gone for combat boots, black leather leggings, and a sleeveless top that showed off her cleavage with minimal effort. The rest of the party-goers wore dresses and suits to impress.
"The invitation said to come as you are." Bailey flung her arms out wide and smirked. "Here I am."
Stella shook her head and chuckled beneath her breath. She cast her eyes out across the crowd, stopping abruptly as someone caught her eye. "Oh my," Stella murmured, toying with her empty cup and flashing Bailey a mischievous grin. Bailey quickly spun in her seat to see what prompted her friend out of her shell and almost fell out of her seat.
Across the sea of dancers was a smaller collection of high-top tables and him. Bailey swallowed thickly and wet her lips. Ronan Corvina. He was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome, with a hearty dash of brooding and tempting mystery that only added to his allure.
Bailey straightened her spine as tall as it would go, peering past the bobbing heads and raised hands of the dancers to spy a smirk curving up his lips. She swallowed again, her heart kicking up a beat as a flare of heat lashed between her thighs. What she wouldn’t give to have Ronan’s lips devour her and taste the fire he stirred in her.
She rose a little higher in her seat.
"What’s he doing here?" Bailey's heart hammered a mile-a-minute in her chest.
Stella didn't bother to hide her amusement. "He was probably invited like the rest of the court."
"Clearly," Bailey said through gritted teeth, unable to calm herself. "But he never comes to these things."
"That's because he's never around," Stella countered. "It looks like he's here with Jax. I heard they’ve been back for some time now. Whatever business that's kept them away from court on and off through the years must have finally concluded.”
"Or they reached a dead end," Bailey muttered under her breath.
Few outside the Vrana household knew that Jax and Ronan's business trips were conducted inside the court. Bailey wasn't sure what they did in the Otherworld, the realm they searched on the other side of the Mirror of Ways, but it made her ill at ease.
"Why don't you go talk to him?"
Bailey glared at Stella's suggestion.
"Now's the perfect time to make your move. I've seen you staring at him when you think nobody notices," Stella coaxed.
"I do not stare at him." Mildly obsess and think about him constantly? Guilty as charged, Bailey thought as she slouched in her seat. She had the world’s biggest crush on Ronan Corvina, and if he bothered to spend more than ten minutes in her presence at a time, she was sure he would see. Maybe even do something about it.
The head of the raven shifters at the Dark Court had held sway over Bailey's heart since the moment they met. Unfortunately, said meet-cute was upon learning of her father's death in the great lycan war between the Adolphus and Wselfwulf packs.
Ronan had made it a point to check on her periodically throughout the years. A small smile tugged at her lips as she remembered him teaching her to pick locks and the best pranks to play on her packmates without getting caught. Those short summer visits were some of Bailey’s happiest memories as a girl. As she grew into a gangly teenager, those visits became less frequent, to be replaced with hour-long phone calls.
The contact had meant the world to Bailey, because at her loneliest, he'd been a light in the darkness.
She couldn’t say the same for the Adolphus pack. It took years for Bailey to accept their comfort and support, instead of placing the blame of her father’s death on their shoulders. Then she'd been tasked with babysitting River Adolphus and her younger brother, West. The girls had formed an immediate attachment, one that gave Bailey a sense of purpose to be something more, a role model, a mischief-maker, and best friend.
The two relationships were everything to Bailey, but somewhere along the way, her feelings for Ronan evolved.
Although strictly platonic at first, when Bailey reached her twenties, their relationship drifted into the waters of flirtation.
Playful touches turned to tentative affections: him slinging an arm over her shoulders to keep her close to his side, her wiping away the crumbs that always clung to the corner of his mouth with a delicate sweep of her thumb. Glances that lingered and began to simmer on the edge of desire.
It gave her hope that made her heart soar with every small touch and blush he brought to her cheeks.
Yet, that hope came to a crashing halt some five years ago when Ronan's trips to the Otherworld started growing longer. His visits officially came to an end. Their conversations drifted into silence. Bailey had been crushed, but at the same time, her search to unleash River's lycan side had just begun providing a welcome distraction.
But now that they were in the same orbit, she couldn't stop herself from wanting more again.
Bailey imagined he might protest pursuing something due to their age gap, but what was twelve years in the scheme of things? They both boasted longer than average life spans, and he barely looked a day over thirty-five.
"You should talk to him." Stella's persistence sent Bailey's pulse into overdrive. Stella leaned closer to Bailey. She tilted her lips into a kinder smile, devoid of its earlier teasing. "There are lust demons here," she confided. "If you want to make a move, your chances of success are high."
Bailey dragged her eyes over the crowd. She gulped as she spied a pair of oxblood horns peeking out from a tangle of blonde curls.
Not all demons possessed horns, and to her knowledge, no set of horns looked alike. Bailey didn't know why. Outside their talent for emotional manipulation, Bailey knew little about the full scope of a demon's power. She assumed their horns had something to do with the level of power they possessed. The bigger the horn or more detailed, the more powerful the demon, almost like a vampyré’s irises. The thicker the silver ring around a vampyré’s irises, the stronger and older they were.
"You're always telling me to take a chance," Stella continued, pressing a hand to Bailey's arm in reassurance. "Maybe it's time you listen to your own advice?"
Bailey groaned, swallowing down the panic rising in her chest. "Fine," she blurted out, shoving away from the table and standing. Stella smirked, her eyes shining with amusement. Bailey glared back at her. "But for the record: I do not stare at him."
Stella's lips twitched, but she said nothing. Instead, her blue eyes swept meaningfully to where Bailey's crush stood chatting with his best friend, Jax. Bailey hesitated. The reception was in full swing and getting rowdier by the minute.
"What about you?" Bailey asked.
Stella's eyebrows rose. "What about me?"
"River just ditched us, and now I'm going to ditch you."
"I probably won't stick around much longer." Stella shrugged carelessly. "But I won't go before I have another drink." Bailey passed the banshee her own meaningful stare and watched in satisfaction as Stella sobered some.
"I'm not going to have any rhodiola," Stella reassured.
"Good. I know it gives relief in the moment, but that shit messes with your head." Stella swallowed visibly and turned her gaze away from the she-wolf. “Hey, you’re the one who confided in me about what it does to you afterward. Muddled thoughts, achy joints, the hallucinations—”
"You better talk to him before he leaves." Stella glanced one last time in Ronan and Jax's direction. Bailey's eyes narrowed on the banshee, simultaneously communicating her seriousness and displeasure in the simple act. Then her eyes chased after the pair of men as well, her anxiety putting her nerves on high alert.
"How do I look?" Bailey asked.
"Hot. Now stop stalling by worrying over me, and go get your man."
Before Bailey could offer a rebuttal, Stella walked away from the table, aiming for the bar. A rush of air left Bailey in a whoosh as she braved the crowd.
"Play it cool, Bailey. Play. It. Cool," the she-wolf muttered to herself, weaving through the throng of bodies dancing to music far more modern than the usual court fare. Bailey was pleasantly surprised at the electronic beats, but even more so, that they'd been able to transform an old, unused banquet hall into a veritable club scene. As she pressed deeper, her usual confidence faltered some more.
The she-wolf wasn't used to the feelings coursing through her. She prided herself on her cool and somewhat cocky composure. In the Dark Court, it was her armor. No one could touch her with it on, but one long look at Ronan and her trusty composure started to crumble.
The expressions sported by Jax and Ronan weren't very promising for a warm welcome if their scowls were anything to go by. Her steps slowed.
"Hey! Watch it," Bailey exclaimed as a body rammed into her, propelling her forward and into someone's back.
An indistinguishable apology stumbled out of the aggressor's mouth before they slinked away. Bailey echoed the sentiment to the other unlucky bystander. They grunted in return. Bailey straightened, and she realized she'd been nudged out of the swell of dancers and was within view of Ronan and Jax.
Her feet cemented themselves to the ground as she watched Jax bow mockingly to Ronan before spinning on his heel and striding off, walking cane in hand. Ronan's features darkened as his gaze followed after his friend, and then he stilled. Slowly the raven shifter's head turned in her direction. Bailey's heart skipped a beat as his gray eyes found her. The harsh tilt of his features lessened as he gave her a small nod, his lips curving upward invitingly.
Bailey strode to meet him, nearly knocking over a dancing couple in the process. She apologized profusely, avoiding their glares as she reached Ronan.
Ronan's eyes shone with amusement. "Enjoying yourself?"
Bailey's mouth opened, but no words deigned to come out. She nodded and pasted on a smile instead, cursing inwardly. Though she was seamlessly blended with her wolf spirit, Bailey could have sworn she'd felt the echo of its embarrassment.
If she was being honest with herself, the only time her wolf spirit ever made its presence known was when Ronan was involved.
"Did you come with somebody?"
The she-wolf's eyes widened as she shook her head, then paused. "No, not like, with a date or something. I just came with River and Stella." Ronan searched the crowd for them. "River left," Bailey explained. "She's got better things to do, apparently, and Stella's around here somewhere."
"You don't look the part of a typical wedding guest." Ronan's voice was barely distinguishable above the music and side conversations taking place near them. Bailey pressed her tongue to the back of her teeth, fighting down a grin as his eyes roamed over her form leisurely. Some of the tension riddling her body left, and she took the opportunity to inspect his attire.
Ronan, as per his usual, was outfitted in all black—black Oxford shoes, black slacks, black belt, black button-down. A snort barreled from Bailey before she could stop herself. Ronan stared at her askance, half-concerned and half-amused.
"Neither do you," Bailey mock whispered, angling toward him with a growing smirk as her confidence returned. "You look like you're going to a funeral."
Ronan chuckled, but his amusement was quick to fade as a somber expression stole over his features. Bailey's smirk washed away as she studied him. Her pulse sounded louder in her ear than the music playing—some Top 40 hit that drew from the crowd a raucous cry as they belted out the chorus.
"I didn't know you would be here." Ronan's attention zeroed in on Bailey. She continued, ignoring the stain of embarrassment that crawled up her cheeks. "You and Jax have been back almost three months now since your last 'business trip', but you've yet to make an appearance at any event. Jax will show face sometimes, but you? You always seem to have a reason to skip out."
Ronan's stare sharpened at the mention of his surreptitious business with Jax, causing Bailey to falter. "Been watching me, have you?"
Constantly. Bailey's throat dried up at the look he leveled her with. It was layered softly with the heat she knew all too well from years ago. She forced herself to shrug and cleared her throat. "I like hanging out with you," she confessed, refusing to meet his eye.
The seconds ticked by with agonizing slowness. "I've been… busy, and the court doesn't hold the same appeal to me as it once did. That's why I don't come out much."
Bailey glanced back at Ronan. He wore a pensive frown that emphasized the harsh line of his cheekbones and jawline. Bailey noted the dusky purple hue hugging the bottom of his eyes, the strain of unspoken magical travel, and a surge of sympathy went through her.
"I get that," Bailey whispered, speaking the words louder when Ronan's piercing gaze ensnared her.
An unspeakable understanding passed between them. It wasn't easy living in a court designed for the dead. The hierarchy was never meant to favor them—or sorcerers or demons, for that matter—but the knowledge, money, and power gained here were unmatched in the outside world. Though progress and change were happening with more power shifting into the Lunar Court's hands, it was slow to come.
The moment stretched on between them. Bailey was vaguely aware of the music slipping into some song with a bass that beat against her bones and the air charging with magic. It made her skin prickle with awareness.
"Do you want to dance?" Bailey cocked her head in the direction of the writhing crowd. Friction rode through her as Ronan swallowed and glanced away. A reddish hue tinged his cheeks, but Bailey couldn’t decipher what it meant. Dread enveloped her.
Before he could reject her, and before she could give the matter a second thought, she grabbed his hand and dragged him into the crowd.
A startled laugh sounded from him at her insistence, but it died on his lips as she pulled his arms around her waist and snuggled up to his chest with her back. It was the coward's way out not to face him as she began to wind her body to the music, but she didn't care. All that mattered was that she was here in his arms. After a moment’s hesitation, Ronan’s body moved with hers, and relief coursed through her.
Another pulse of magic sifted through the air, coarser than the last inflection. Goosebumps broke out across Bailey's body as her nose twitched irritably. Her lycan senses were overly sensitive to magical acts and left her permanently on high alert. She reasoned it must be the same for Ronan, for his hold tightened.
In the next instant, their cautious inhibitions melted away as they gave themselves over to the music.
Bailey's heart and body were aflame as Ronan's hands glided over her sides and waist possessively. His breath panted above her ear as she ground against him.
The party was devolving in typical Dark Court fashion to one of uninhibited depravity. Bailey wasn't used to sticking around when the witching hour struck, but if it meant advancing her relationship with Ronan past stilted friendship, she was willing to be bad.
By the way his fingers ghosted under the waistline of her leather pants, she was fairly confident they were on the same page.
Bailey spun to face him. Her lips parted at the dark look in his eyes. She placed her hands tentatively on his chest while his thigh found its way between hers. Bailey swallowed, her body moving on its own accord. A new wave of heat enveloped her as his hand cupped her ass to drag her closer. Her wolf practically purred at the sensation.
She stared recklessly at his lips.
The urge to drag his head down and kiss him until she lost herself was overwhelming. Bailey clutched at her self-restraint with white knuckles. Fear left her unwilling to cross the final line, no matter how desperately she wanted it. Bailey wet her bottom lip. Fear might keep her from crossing the line, but she wasn't above tempting fate.
A ripple of longing coursed through the crowd, bringing with it a wave of heat that coaxed beads of sweat between her breasts. Bailey's throat bobbed as she hooked a hand around Ronan's neck.
His gaze was like a physical weight as she proceeded to free the top button of his shirt with her other hand. Then the next, and the next, until his shirt was halfway undone. She swallowed thickly as she raised her eyes to meet his. The desire there nearly seared straight through her.
