495- The Venomous Bite
POV Thalyndra Moonclaw:
As we approached the road with Anton's car, the hotel rose before us, powerless and somber against the summer sky dotted with stars.
He parked in a nearby spot, but not close enough for us to be seen.
I got out of the vehicle and smoothed the skirt of the long red satin dress I was wearing. The night breeze was warm, but not enough to dispel the tension I felt.
I stared at the place, observing the faint moonlight that bathed the stone walls, which seemed to grow directly from the cliffs, as if the very rock had decided to become a shelter. The place was as ancient as it was threatening—a fortress built to intimidate. And it was certainly fulfilling its role.
Anton stopped beside me, his face serious as his eyes scanned every detail around us, alert as always. Myrion came right behind, a silent predator, his gaze fixed on the illuminated windows in the distance, where the Merchants should be preparing for another auction.
"It looks like an appropriate place for them," I murmured, looking at the towers that stood out against the darkness.
Myrion laughed, stopping on my left side.
"A weird, partially abandoned, bankrupt hotel for idiots as weird as them," he mocked.
I scratched the back of my neck, nervous.
"Partially abandoned?" He nodded.
"It belongs to some human I don't even care to know who. They say he built it for tourists who come here seeking stories about the occult that roams the Tharnak forests. It might have been a good idea, but it was poorly executed. The place was barely explored, so he sold it to someone else, who sold it to someone else. And that's what's been happening over the years."
I shrugged.
"That's a shame, because I would definitely stay at the hotel. It looks cool and full of occultism."
Anton laughed.
"Of course you would stay—you'd want to be part of the failed hotel's history," he mocked, turning to me. He dragged his eyes over my entire body, from the huge slit on my right leg to my deep neckline. The dress had thin straps, leaving my shoulders bare. "You look like a true spectacle. I need to keep an eye out, or they'll want to put you up for auction too."
I rolled my eyes.
"Is that your way of saying I look beautiful?"
He stepped closer and took my hand, planting a kiss on its back without taking his eyes off mine.
"Beautiful would be an understatement to describe you, Ferinha," he whispered.
It would be the same expression I would use to describe him. Anton, like Myrion, wore a black tuxedo, white shirt, and dark tie. The blazer accentuated his broad shoulders and the curves of his defined biceps. His hair was brushed back, not a single strand out of place. His beard was neatly trimmed, exuding a delicious scent of cedar.
I had already compiled a collection of memories about him that I wanted to keep for the rest of my days, and that one had been included.
Myrion snorted.
"You two can stop with this bullshit—I didn't come here to play a supporting role for the lovebirds. Let's go in, do what needs to be done, and get the hell out of here." He gestured with disdain. "After that, you can go screw in the bushes."
I choked on a laugh.
"Why didn't you bring your date of the day?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Because, unfortunately, my date of the day is Júlia, and she'd have a heart attack if she came to watch this massacre. I think she'd never look at me the same way again."
I pondered for a moment.
"And you like her enough not to want her to see your other side?"
That was news—Myrion didn't seem interested in anyone who suggested anything beyond sex and fun. Aurelka was right when she said he was a true womanizer, the terror of unsuspecting young ladies.
He laughed as if I had told him a funny joke.
"Of course not! The problem is that Júlia is the biggest gossip of all, and she'd go spreading it all over the village. She's not relevant, just like no one else is." He raised a finger when I opened my mouth to speak, silencing me. "However… I can't stay completely without contact in Eldoria. I need a body to warm me up when I'm in the mood. That's why I value my reputation so much."
I didn't know what shocked me more—whether it was Myrion being more afraid of a reputation for bloodthirstiness or the fact that these girls would also care more about that than the terrible reputation of being a certified womanizer that he carried.
"Oh, that would be terrible indeed, to tarnish your character—imagine such a thing," I murmured, scoffing at the situation.
He started walking, making a noise in his throat.
"Stop being a smartass and come on. We have some Merchants to kill. I want to see if we get back in time."
"In time for what?"
"In time for Júlia to be awake to suck my dick." He threw his hands up as if praising. "No female does it as well as she does. That girl's mouth is paradise itself."
Anton clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.
"Just shut the fuck up, Myrion."
"That information was of utmost relevance—I'll remember, with many traumas, this conversation for the rest of my life," I said ironically.
Myrion turned his head toward me and winked.
"You're going to ask Júlia for some tips, aren't you?" he teased.
I didn't dignify him with a response—I rolled my eyes and followed him. Anton interlaced his fingers with mine, keeping our hands firmly together.
The dagger was strapped to a sheath on my calf. Hidden enough that no one could see it, but in a practical enough place that I could reach it quickly if things got out of control.
The closer we got to the hotel, the more anxious and nervous I became.
My heart pounded in my ears, loud and fast. I held my breath, trying to maintain a calm that didn't exist.
Myrion pressed the button next to the red double door and waited. A crack opened and a man peeked through it. He stood in silence, waiting.
"Lupus Noctis," Myrion said, serious.
In the next second, I thought my heart might stop beating.
He opened the door in silence, without any questions. He stepped aside, clearing our passage. He was tall and burly. I inhaled, scenting him. He smelled like a beta, with soft notes—a characteristic of that species of wolf.
Myrion passed in front of him with his chin raised, showing no fear, always superiority. I didn't think it was a strategy, just the way of a wolf who knew he had more power than anyone there and didn't need to fear anything or anyone.