Page 29 of Cruelly Fated (Princes of Avari #1)

Twenty-Five

ALLIE

“ I worry about you,” Lance said, eyeing me from under his gelled messy bangs. Was that a hairstyle?

I strode over, planting my hands on my hips. “There’s nothing to worry about.” I pinched my lips, then swept his hair to the side, pushing it above his upper eyelid. “I’m a big girl. That’ s better.”

Lance recoiled in mock horror and immediately ran both hands through his hair, mussing it back into chaos. “Now I’m really worried. Since when do you care to fix my hair?”

With an exasperated sigh, I threw my arms up and spun on my heel, scanning for a crate to carry. I needed to keep busy—anything to stop my brain from looping back to last night. Or this morning… Kyon’s scowl flashed in my mind, warming my skin.

The sound of clinking glass filtered through the storage room as Lance stacked empty bottles behind me.

“Where you going? That one’s half-empty,” he said, voice laced with disapproval.

I blinked down at the crate in my arms. Right. I set it back down, trying to mask the stumble. Get yourself together. One man does not get to turn you into a distracted idiot who forgets how to count.

“I knew that. I was simply moving it over here,” I said, wiping my palms down my shorts.

Lance reeled back with his mouth hanging open. Before he could get a single word out, I sidestepped him and slipped into the club.

Bass thumped softly from the speakers, the low rumble vibrating through the soles of my shoes.

Bar patrons stole glances over their shoulders at the stage—illuminated by pink dancing lights—as the next act sauntered onto the stage shortly.

I grabbed a rag and busied myself with the smudged counter, eyes fixed on nothing, trying to quiet the sensations rolling through my body.

I inspected the mirror-backed shelves, which appeared pink in the current light, and sagged my shoulders when I realized nothing needed refilling; then I remembered I’d just restocked the bar fifteen minutes ago.

Still needing something to do, I picked a tray and set out to hunt for empty bottles and glasses.

For good measure, I tossed a few peanut bowls on top, even though Larry liked to reserve those strictly for bar seating.

I circled each table, trading banter and brushing off cheap remarks and collecting empties as I went. Apparently, my sunny mood didn’t go unnoticed—more than a few patrons slipped bills into the back pockets of my jeans. Not bad. Maybe I should play charming more often.

“A word,” Larry whispered in my ear.

I jumped, the glasses clinking against each other like wind chimes.

“Oh, I didn’t see you,” I said, flustered.

“Yes, you’ve been too busy feeding peanuts to the whole damn place. What’s gotten into you? Never mind, follow me.”

I rushed after my boss, weaving between the tables and abandoning the tray in the employee-only hallway, then stepped into his office.

“If this is about the peanuts—” I started to form an excuse. The last thing I needed was to get fired over something as minor as a table snack. Why did I think this was a good idea again?

“I said never mind. Sit.” Larry reclined in his half-stripped leather chair, which looked—and sounded—ancient. The creak scraped at my nerves as he leaned all the way back, propping his polished black shoes on the equally battered desk.

“You haven’t answered my messages or the voicemail I left,” he said, eyebrows popping to his hairline.

“My phone’s dead.” I shrugged. “In the rush to pack, I forgot my charger. And haven’t gotten a new one yet. So…”

“And how the hell is anyone supposed to reach you?” Larry snapped, his voice rising. Not quite a yell, but close. He yanked open a drawer and rifled through it before tossing a black cable across the desk. “Take it. I’ve got extras.”

I picked it up and examined the plug, which looked like something I’d last seen when Grandpa finally turned his old phone in for an upgrade. Five years ago. No one made phones with this port anymore.

“Thank you,” I said, wrapping the cord around my fingers. It’d be headed for the trash the moment I left.

“Don’t mention it. That’s what I’m here for.” He forced a grin around the butt of his cigar. “The new club called this morning; they need more dancers tomorrow. What you say?”

My brow creased, confusion creeping in. “How? They haven’t even seen the video yet.”

Larry’s mobster smile widened. “Oh, they’ve seen it. So has everyone else. And they want to hire you—no further auditions needed.”

“Everyone else?” What did he mean? A knot settled in my gut .

Larry fished out his smartphone and scrolled through his feed until he found it—a reel of me , dancing Mom’s signature provocative number. He hit play.

My eyelids trembled. For a second, my vision dotted and tunneled. “You posted it…publicly?”

“Through a professional audition platform,” he said with a casual wave. “Don’t worry—I covered the advertising cost.”

He’d better have. I didn’t agree to any of this.

Larry kept talking like I wasn’t two seconds from combusting. “It’s already hit over a hundred thousand views and counting. You’re becoming quite popular…”

“I can’t tomorrow.” I stood abruptly and stomped toward the door.

“Now wait just a damn minute!”

His chair groaned, then clattered into something with a bang.

“Bloody hell!” he shouted.

I didn’t look back. I scurried straight to the employee bathroom and locked the door behind me, my breath coming hard and shallow. Damn you, Larry.

After a few minutes, I rounded on Lance and begged to borrow his phone. He handed it over without hesitation. Covering one ear with my hand, I pressed the other against the wall, the phone nestled between.

“Who is this?” Officer Marley’s stern voice cut through.

“It’s me, Allie. I’m using a friend’s phone.”

“Is everything all right? ”

“Yes. I visited Grandpa today. He told me what happened…to Mom. Said you’ve looked into it. That you might know more.”

He didn’t answer right away.

“Why the sudden interest?” he asked, cautious.

I inhaled. “I’m ready to know the truth. Maybe then… Maybe I can finally stop grieving.”

“I’ll pull the file when I’m back in the office. Call you later?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

His grunt crackled through the speaker. “Don’t thank me yet.” Then he hung up.

“Larry,” Lance mouthed as he walked by carrying a crate. I dropped to all fours and scrambled behind a stack of empty boxes.

Larry’s breathing grew louder—harsh and wheezy, like a steam engine sputtering up a hill. Or an overweight dragon with a sinus problem.

“Where is she?” he bellowed.

“I’m sorry, sir, who?” Lance asked, sounding genuinely confused. I bit back a laugh.

“You sorry sack of troll dung… Allie.”

“You must’ve missed her. I saw her head into the club.”

I peeked through a gap between the cardboard stacks.

Larry whirled and stomped toward the exit, muttering curses under his breath. On the way, he kicked a tower of empty crates, sending them clattering. One landed squarely on his head.

“Son of a banshee!” he roared, clutching his skull.

“Go,” Lance mouthed, flicking his hand toward the back door. He’d been acting as my lookout for half the night since my run-in with Larry. I couldn’t avoid my boss forever, but tonight, he wasn’t getting another second of my time.

I sprinted across the lot and dove into my car, which was still unlocked. I could practically hear Valor’s disapproving sigh in my head. I gave the back seat a quick glance. Empty. No kidnappers hiding there today.

Larry was always the last to leave the club, so the odds of him leaping out from the shadows and landing on my hood were slim. But I kept the headlights off until I hit the road, just in case.

Once I merged onto the main road, I finally loosened my grip on the wheel.

The traffic picked up, although sparingly, since it was three a.m. after all.

Most nightly activities moved underground, or well, indoors.

The winking neon signs and quiet streets should have calmed me, but as Kyon’s high tower came into view, my stomach pitched.

Our morning conversation replayed in my head. What did the dragon prince want from me? Was there more to our arrangement than Grandpa’s protection? Aside from the mind-blowing sex …

He’d seemed tense this morning, like he regretted last night.

Or maybe it was the fact that I was in his space, the only place not tainted by his bloodline and obligations.

A lone place where the dragon prince could shed his crown and just be.

And I’d crash-landed in it like a damn comet with no brakes.

“Hello?” I called out, barely louder than a breath as the elevator doors slid open, spilling me into the hush of his living room. Shadows sliced through the space, which was awash in the city’s multihued lights like an Impressionist painting.

“How was your shift?” a low voice answered from within.

His head and then the sculpted stretch of his chest appeared above the back of the couch. Shirtless. Fae gods, help me.

I stepped inside and rounded the couch, breath catching, pulse doing things it had no business doing. The door whispered shut behind me.

The city lights carved shadows along the hard ridges of his chest and down the sharp cuts of his abs. His dark hair curled damply over his forehead, like he’d just stepped out of the shower. Or hell. Either would’ve suited him.

My gaze snagged on the faint claw marks trailing along his side. His dragon stirred behind those molten eyes, watching me.

“You’re not sleeping,” I said, voice thinner than I wanted.

His lips curved. “Neither are you.”

“I was working…” I said, traipsing along like I had no idea what to do with myself.

A sheet lay draped loosely around his waist. I blinked, trying not to imagine him fully naked .

“Oh, you’re reading?” I halted, pointing awkwardly at the book in his hands.

Kyon brandished the book. “I read…sometimes,” he said like he didn’t want to talk about it.

O-kay.

I stared at the cover, trying to make out the title, but my eyes wandered. Everywhere. Kyon’s body was a work of art. Light slid across the swell of his biceps, the planes of his chest. A faint shimmer danced along his collarbone, like something beneath his skin stirred and never quite settled.

My gaze dragged lower.

His skin rippled, gleaming with green scales just under the surface. His dragon. The image sent a jolt of panic and desire down my spine.

“Right. I’ll… I’m gonna go,” I muttered, gesturing vaguely toward his bedroom like I actually lived here and hadn’t just wandered into the middle of some impossible fairy tale.

He nodded once, his eyes narrowing and oozing heat as if the air wasn’t already thick enough to drown in.

I turned too fast and clipped my shoulder on the doorframe. Smooth. Warmth crawled up my neck and into my ears. I dropped my bag on the bed, his scent wrapping around me. Ember, spice, and wilderness. I whirled with a gasp, convinced he’d followed me in.

He hadn’t. Then how was his scent so potent here but not in the rest of the apartment?

I groaned internally and plopped on the bed, staring at the half-open door.

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be alone…or if I wanted him to come in.

Was he as confused as I was? At least he was still interested.

Otherwise why hold the book upside down?

He wasn’t reading, he was waiting…on me.