A Perfect World

Chapter 35

AELIN POV

Aelin remembered having a thought about embracing life's unpredictability. That sentiment went out the window the moment she laid eyes on Dorian. Immediately, she felt her fire rising up to break free.

"What the hell is this?" she demanded, marching right up to Dorian's grinning face and grabbing him by the collar.

Before she knew it an iron clawed hand wrapped around her own grip.

"Get your rusty claws off me, witch," Aelin spat.

"It's okay, Manon," Dorian said, "She won't hurt me."

"Oh, I'm not so sure about that. Especially if you don't answer my damned question."

Manon only tightened her grip on Aelin's hand.

"Manon," Dorian repeated.

Rolling her eyes, the witch relented. If Aelin wasn't so goddamn tired she would have burnt his ass just for spite. Instead she settled for whacking him across his head.

"Hey!" he chided, "You're making me look bad in front of my army of mercenaries." He gestured towards the coven behind him.

Only Dorian would be so casual with a group of deadly immortal beings who could turn on him at any instant. Aelin supposed that he could afford to be when packing that much magic. Dorian's raw magic made him nothing short of legendary. Even the oldest, strongest Fae regarded him as equals. The clout he received from fellow magic-wielders should have made him an egotistical prick. On occasion he did let some of that arrogance show through, but for the most part Dorian kept to himself. He was a silent observer who tried to stay politically neutral. Aelin understood why. Being a powerful heir made you a target. Laying low was usually the best option both in terms of personal safety and political matters. The fact that Dorian was getting so involved in current politics and even went so far as to hire an army of witches... it did not bode well at all. Too much had changed in a short space of time. Hidden secrets were slowly unravelling and she had the distinct feeling that both she and Dorian were somehow wrapped up in the middle of them.

"Tell me," she repeated.

His sigh was more than just a release of breath. She could feel the tension rolling off of him. Some of it, at least. Whatever he had to say, it was clear that he had been waiting a long time to deliver the message.

"You're not going to like it."

"So let's get it over with then."

He looked at her with a pained expression. Then glanced at Rowan meaningfully.

"Rowan can be trusted," she assured him.

Dorian's eyebrow twitched in a way that made it clear that he didn't miss the lack of title used when addressing Rowan. Looking towards the fellow Prince, Dorian finally nodded his head in acknowledgment.

"So you're allegiance is to Terrasen then, Prince?" Dorian asked blatantly.

"Terrasen and Doranelle are two kingdoms tied by blood and sacred vows made in the Old Language. Allegiance to one is to the other," Rowan replied.

"I'm not interested in political face-saving right now. The war is upon us and sides have been chosen. Varese has chosen their side and they have betrayed their own kin to do so. You'll have to forgive me if blood and vows do little to assure me of your allegiance. So, I'll ask again in plainer language," Dorian said, stalking up to the warrior with a power laced in his stride, "If you had to choose between Sellene's life and Aelin's, which would you choose?"

Aelin froze. She wanted to melt into the ground beneath. She did not want to hear Rowan's answer. She wasn't ready for that because truthfully, she knew he would say Sellene. Sure, he had just kissed her. But what was one kiss compared to kin. They hadn't even gotten a chance to debrief after their last interaction. There was no time to label anything. Besides, who even cared about shit like that when there was a war to be fought.

But that was the thing. Despite the war and whatever shitty news Dorian was about to deliver, she did care. Less than an hour ago she was feeling like the universe finally threw her a bone by giving her a companion to help her face what was to come. Now she felt like the universe was laughing at her as if it was all some big joke. The little bit of hope that had rekindled inside of her was about to die out again. She knew it. Because minutes of silence had passed since Dorian posed the question and Rowan still had not responded. Worst of all, she couldn't even blame him. This thing between them was so new, of course it didn't hold as much weight. Given time maybe it could. But they didn't have time. And it was such a damn shame that they didn't. And it was such a damn shame that Aelin was having her heart broken twice in one night by the same person.

"My cousin has a cadre of elite warriors at her disposal," Rowan said, "My protection wouldn't make or break her forces."

"I doubt that," Dorian said, "You being the most powerful full-blooded Fae male is undisputed. The only person powerful enough to challenge you right now is probably me."

"Is that a threat?"

"It depends on how plain and reliable an answer you give me."

Aelin braced herself as Rowan stalked up towards Dorian. He was only a few inches taller, but his massive body completely obscured Dorian's lean figure once he stood in front of him. Dorian didn't back down. Instead he let a bit of his magic loose, the air suddenly charged with a tingling frost. But before Aelin could blink, Dorian was on his knees gasping for breath. Manon and the rest of her coven were barely able to take a step towards them before they too were clawing at their throats. Without a single movement, Rowan had ripped the air right out of their lungs. Aelin gaped in awe as the witches passed out one by one. Dorian, however, was still panting for air on the ground. Asterin was the last to fall before he let up on Dorian, who only managed to gulp down a single breath of air before Rowan was on him, dragging up to eye-level by his shirt collar.

"You may have a substantial amount of magic, Prince, but I have been ending lives for centuries before you breathed your first breath. Threaten me or Aelin again, and I will find pleasure in deciding which will be your last. Same goes for your witches. Or, anyone else for that matter... Including Sellene."

Dorian's face was red—whether from shame or asphyxiation, Aelin didn't know. It was a little of both perhaps. This was the first time she saw Dorian manhandled like that.

"I'll take that as an answer then. Though, choking out my army of witches was a poor way of pledging allegiance."

"They had it coming," Rowan said, "Especially the blonde one."

He looked at her meaningfully and Aelin herself felt like she was choking. Emotion clogged her throat, but she wasn't quite ready to admit which one.

"Well then," she managed to say, "That's that, I suppose. So please Dorian, enlighten us. What the hell is going on?'

** Happy Holidays all!

I hope you all continue doing the things you love in 2022 <3 **