Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

With a sigh, the final box was added to the unkempt stacks balanced precariously throughout the unfurnished room. The carpet bore the marks of your footsteps, the slide of too-heavy boxes, and the remainders of those fanning vacuum marks that moved with and against the grain of the medium pile beige fibers.

It had been a long drive, tedious and grating; it had taken all of your strength to remain standing rather than give in to the fatigue that had set in right after crossing the threshold. If you were to collapse into a heap there, you’d only block the stairwell and delay the unpacking you already knew you had to cajole yourself into starting, much less finish. As appealing as the notion was, you knew full well that time was not on your side. The meter was running on the truck you’d rented, a fiendish box truck that guzzled gas with the same greedy exuberance that had shown as the sales rep had swiped your card. Your limited budget had been the reason for what had been a supposed deal but you weren’t so sure anymore.

The only option, you supposed, was returning the fiend before they closed and banish it to the lot from whence it came.

The move itself had been unplanned, a twist of fate that still had you largely reeling even as the reality sank in much the same way your feet sank into the carpet; despite being the only one of your friend group to remain hometown bound following high school, you’d relocated yourself to the metropolitan hub that resided hours outside of your comfort zone. Social media had been your anchor, flashes of jealousy mixing with flashes of pride as you watched the paths your friends had chosen whisk them away. Prestigious scholarships had been their saving grace; The hallowed halls of The Sidran Institute, nestled in the heart of Velaris, whereas you had stuck to the local community college. A part time job waitressing paid most of what your scholarships didn’t, and your parents had graciously let you stay with them rent free. A choice they teased you about plenty.

Four years of video calls, howling group voice chats, and snide meme laden texts had culminated into a very generous offer. A room within a shared house, rent free, and an excuse to broaden your horizons beyond your secluded scope. The thought sparked a yearning; you’d grown up sheltered, your town too small to support a large mixed population of supernaturals and humans. Maybe the odd passerby, but none ever stuck around.

The chance to live somewhere sprawling, somewhere with different views, a different lifestyle was something you had jumped at. The allure of what was deemed forbidden was a call you couldn’t ignore and with your final box slotted in place in the room you’d soon make yourself at home in, the anticipation was a tantalizing thrum under your skin.

Exploring could wait, though. For now you had a bed to set up and essentials to unpack. Checking your phone told you that there were a few scant hours to do so before your friends returned and dragged you out for gods knew what. Dinner, drinks, the promised club or three… Your lips curled into a smile and a second wind surged within you. The prospect was all the motivation you needed to set yourself to the task at hand. A few hours? Plenty of time for the bare minimum you’d need for the night.

~~~~

The bass rattled the table and your drinks. You'd been rushed in too fast to get a proper look around, and now cocooned within the ambient darkness and the neo-glow starbursts, the music blasting was replacing your heartbeat
The only competition to the volume of the music was the howling laughter shared between yourself, Feyre, her sister Nesta, and their other roommate. A petite young woman with swirling silver eyes that held a bite to them that seemed to pale in comparison to the pointed canines her crimson lips hid. Chin length hair the color of night spun into silk framed her face, her beauty enthralling and leaving you gaping for much longer than was deemed polite. You knew that, but were unable to break away until a soft peal of laughter left her.

“You told me we had a new roommate, not a new mouse,” The remark had you shutting your mouth, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Sorry, I’ve just never…”

A delicate eyebrow was arched, amusement creasing her cheeks. “Never what, spoken to a goddess before? I suppose I can forgive you this once.”

You sputtered, choosing to instead take a long sip of your drink, the burning sensation making a pleasant trail down your throat and to your belly. An arm looped around your shoulders, Feyre’s laugh just barely audible for the moment.

“Oh don't take her too seriously, she's more bark than bite. And she,” She shook your shoulders, a bit of your drink spilling over onto your fingers. “Came from the same tiny little town we did. It's a lot to get used to.”

A napkin was snagged to wipe up the spillage before you set down your drink. “Speaking of tiny little towns and new apartments.. I might need some help with the lay of the land and getting a job.”

You watched Nesta raise an eyebrow, sharing a look with Amren and then Feyre that left you feeling like the trio knew something you didn't. And despite sharing a table with two of your best friends.. the sudden comradery between them left you feeling… out?
It was a foreign feeling, a slow curl in your gut that you positively despised.

“We're out celebrating your move, the last thing you need to be worrying about is a job.” Nesta's tone was flat, as it usually was, but mirth was dancing in her eyes.

You just rolled yours at her, flipping your hair in an attempt to be sassy right back to her. You'd forgotten how much you'd missed her, missed Feyre, missed just hanging out like tomorrow's problems would never come. That slow curl slowly began to unwind, your overthinking slowed with the flush of sweet cocktails.

What happened next was almost too perfectly timed to be a coincidence. All of your drinks had dipped dangerously low, ice and faint colors of what had been much stronger before relegated to a sad puddle at the bottom. You felt it before you saw it, the way the shadowy cloak of perfect ambiance seemed to ripple and distort to your left. It made you turn, sentence partially finished and word halting on your tongue as you watched what you swore was some dark god materialize out of the rippling shadows.

Studying him was an odd contrast; A beauty that would be called classic elegance mixed with hazel eyes that were unreadable, an expression that gave away nothing. There was no smile, no frown, nothing to cause a crease or wrinkle. Tanned golden skin that looked sun kissed at odds with the curling tendrils of shadow dancing along his form, massive wings tucked against his back but peeking over his shoulders. They reminded you of bat wings, but much more… more.

Even the pulsating roar of the bass that had hounded you upon entering the club seemed muted as long legs brought him closer. Leather pants, a v neck black long sleeve, simply cut but hugging his body as if it was tailor made, your eyes catching the thick swirls of black ink decorating his chest and vanishing below fabric. You didn't realize he held a tray until he was right there, staring down at you without so much as a twitch of the corners of his mouth. For what was an ant to a god?

“Hellooo,” A finger snapped next to your ear, startling you to the point you nearly fell from your chair.

“Hey!” You turned, swatting at the offending hand and the giggling Feyre. Smooth move… your cheeks flushed a deeper crimson, lips pursed and cheeks puffed out as you tried to not die of mortification. “Yeezus.. really?”

“I told her you'd stopped breathing,” the sharp chime of Amren's voice cut through the still muted wash of music, the beat just barely recognizable. “Azriel, dear, meet the mouse,” she sounded amused still, holding a slim hand up.

A martini glass filled with sanguine liquid was placed there, a deep chuckle reaching your ears next. “Is that so?” Maybe you imagined the barely there curl of his lips to hint at a hint of a smile.

One by one, drinks were passed to Nesta and then Feyre; what you recognized as a cosmo and oversized wine glass akin to a fishbowl filled what you assumed was wine and fruit.. sangria? “Courtesy of Cass,” that deep voice, low and rich, filled the space around your group once again. You felt the way it seemed to caress your skin and leave goosebumps in its wake.

Your momentary disappointment at being the one to not receive a drink courtesy of this Cass in question was a sharp sting. It was soothed a moment after as a Highball glass was set in front of you, filled with a layered fizzy drink; clear to pink to red with a skewer of cherries resting along the top. You blinked, not recognizing this one.

“It's a Dirty Shirley,” The deep voice, Azriel, clarified. This time you were sure there was a smile in his words even if his face remained a mask. “Something,” you caught the pointed look to the dregs of your lemonade, “told me you'd appreciate an easy drink.”

“I know she won't ask,” Feyre piped up, nestled happily in the booth as she sipped her drink. “But where is the big Illyrian baby anyway?” She wiggled her eyebrows, Nesta rolling her eyes as she sipped from the fishbowl of sangria.

“I don't care where he is, so long as he keeps the drinks coming.” Nesta’s voice floated over, and when you turned you saw her gaze was trained elsewhere.
Towards the front.

You’d been whisked into the club in such a hurry that you hadn’t had time to focus on anything else, hadn’t had time to look around before they’d all piled into the booth and ordered the first round of drinks.
But watching from the front was a massive winged male, smirking towards Nesta, and then you. You felt yourself blink rapidly, looking between the shadowy Azriel and the other male that made him look somehow.. Small.

He was rugged where Azreil was elegant. They shared the same sun kissed golden skin, wings, and dark hair, but again.. Elegance versus power. You weren’t sure what to say, or think. His stare was so intense you swore you felt the weight of it as his eyes moved over your body, and after a moment you did the same to him. His hair was half pulled up into a bun, the free length hitting just above broad, well defined muscular shoulders. A rough-hewn face, as though he’d been carved by the wild elements and shoved into a human form.

He sported the same sort of thick black tattoos, swirling around his arms, weaving under his clothing to peek from his chest. Your eyes roved them again, and he sent a wink your way that caused your stomach to tie itself into so many knots.

“The more you stare, the bigger his head gets,” Nesta’s voice floated over again, and you looked away with a sheepish smile, Your hands moved to rub your heated cheeks for the millionth time, feeling yourself sink back into the cushioning.

It really wasn’t fair. Two for two in meeting Supernaturals, and they were both ridiculously beautiful. It wasn’t fair, but you couldn’t deny how much you appreciated the view.

You heard someone cough beside you, pulling you from your internal fixation. Azriel was looking down at you. “Sorry?” You managed to get the word out, fingers tapping against your leg anxiously.

“Don’t apologize unless you’ve done something with being sorry for.” He tucked the drink tray under one arm, the picture of calm, collected, and disinterested. “I heard you were looking for a job.”

You took a sip of your drink, trying to process the offer and how exactly he had heard you over the music and chatter. Chalk it up to.. You didn’t really know, but you found yourself nodding. Even an interview would be a direction to go. “You heard correctly. You guys have an opening here?”

Azriel nodded once. “We do. We’re in need of another bartender.”

Bartending. It was not your forte, and you frowned slightly. “I-”

“Set her up with an interview, Az, we’ll vouch for her,” You felt arms around your shoulders pull you back, Feyre beaming as she gave you a soft shake. “Imagine, more drinks sent our way…~”

You knew full well she was joking and laughed, shaking your head softly. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin. I’ve been waitressing, but I’ve never been a bartender.”

Your hometown had been in a dry county, not that it had stopped anyone in the history of ever.

“Come back tomorrow around one, if the interview goes well, I’ll have no problems showing you the ropes.” The way he said it left you feeling like there was no room to negotiate and you nodded.

With that seeming to be settled, you watched as Azriel gave you the tiniest, most smug smirk you had ever seen before he stepped back into the shadows and vanished. You let out a breath and looked at Nesta, Feyre and Amren. All three looked amused.

“I forgot how unaware you two were when I first met you, your friend here is doing a wonderful job of reminding me. Her smile was sharp, glass empty and teeth on display in a wicked grin. “Very well, Mouse, allow me to fill you in. I am a vampire, Azriel and Cassian are Illyrians. Winged humanoid Supernaturals, though as with humans, some of our kind can be born with curious traits. In Azriel’s case, his attunement to the shadows is uncanny. In Cassian’s case, he’s just a brute.”

“I thought he was more like a pigeon, Amren.” Nesta let out a laugh, stretching out languidly along the booth. “Either way, it’s not the worst place to work. One of the only clubs in the city that’s not got a lock on keeping the humans and Supernaturals separated. Decent pay, decent boss, decent eye candy.”

Decent was hardly enough of a descriptor, but the prospect of working somewhere as progressive as this was a very potent motivator. You took another sip of your drink, mulling it over. “I’ll do it.. There’s no harm in doing the interview, right?”

Chapter Text

You were a frazzled mess as you scrambled out of your car, the rain pouring in a deluge you understood as the universe telling you that this job was not for you. You were late. And not just by a few minutes either. Twenty-three whole minutes, attributed to a wreck, a side quest to navigate the unfamiliar streets and ensuing rerouting traffic, and your GPS refusing to give you straightforward directions. As you barged into the club looking like a drowned rat, you forced yourself to breathe in deeply, one hand reaching up to push your bedraggled hair out of your face lest Cass(?) The Bouncer(?) take you for someone up to no good. You had a heard time keeping names straight from the night before, the trip home and hours thereafter spent listening to Feyre and Nesta gushing over what you were sure was most of the staff. Amren had added in a handful of barbed comments, sipping on something she didn’t deign to share the makeup of. You hadn’t asked either.

The door banged loudly against the stopper, echoing through the deafeningly silent space like a gunshot. You froze, pinned between two pairs of hazel eyes; one set indifferent, one set sparking with clear amusement echoed in the growing smirk. Azriel and Cassian were leaned against the bar, the former drying a handful of glasses. Cassian pushed himself off the bar and sauntered over as you reached back to close the door behind you, suddenly aware of how your appearance was affording you no first impression favors due to being thoroughly soaked.

“Well well, we were worried you weren’t going to come back.” He was grinning, stepping in close enough you could feel the heat radiating off of him and smell hints of pine, and something smoky. It only added to that ruggedness he carried, the wildness just barely contained by his handsome frame. “Were the drinks too strong?” His voice was like a caress against your skin, a rich tone that made your skin prickle. The warmth of him made you shiver, thoughts a little sluggish as you tried to parse out a coherent response.

“I.. no, I was.” You shook your head, taking a step back. It seemed to make enough of a difference that you were able to form the proper sentence, hoping to allay the incoming dismissal. You may not have needed the job, but you did want it. “I’m so sorry, there was a wreck, and the weather, and I got turned around. I am really, really sorry! I still wanted to come and at least explain, but I understand if I missed the interview.”

You hated the way your voice wavered towards the end, but you hated situations like this. You knew it wasn’t your fault, but you were so wrapped up in what you could have done differently, what you could have not done, how you could have left earlier but then assumed you’d be fine with fifteen minutes to spare. It was ridiculous, but it may have cost you this job.

“Darling,” The slow drawl of a new voice caused you to turn your head to find it’s source, eyes landing on yet another golden skinned, heartbreakingly handsome male. Purple eyes as opposed to hazel, short black hair slicked away from an elegant face and leaving pointed ears exposed. You hadn’t realized until this point that the other two had rounded ears.
With the way he leaned back in the nearby booth, you were able to tell he lacked the bat-like wings the other two sported. An expensive looking black button-down with rolled sleeves tucked into black slacks was paired with a thin belt with a silver circular buckle and dark stained oxfords. He was reclined in one of those cliched power poses, legs spread, one arm along the back of the booth, smirking at you as you felt the power oozing off of him, and something else that was distinctly feline in the curl of his smirk. That was the difference, you decided. For others it was cliche because they lacked the power. For whoever this was he didn’t lack anything.
Your mind skittered back to the previous night, the hazy conversation as you tried to sift through the descriptions.

Feyre’s voice floated to the forefront, a snort from her as she rattled off a great many things. “Arrogant, careless, absolutely smug god of a male..” She sipped her water, “Rhysand, he owns the place, though you wouldn’t know it from how little of him you see. And when you do,” Her voice seemed to take on a warning tone.

“And when you do,” That suave voice cut in through your recollection, and he pointed to the seat across from him, “Don’t compliment him. It goes right to that massive head of his.” His tone was amused, but it wasn’t reflected in his eyes. You felt pinned in place again, the warmth of Cassian at your side fading as the massive bouncer withdrew and left you alone in the midst of your confusion.

“Sit.” You felt it more than heard it, the command laced into the singular word. Your legs moved on their own, pulled towards that chair by invisible strings.

“How did you-” You were cut off by a singular hand being raised, then waved dismissively.

“You didn’t think you were going to waltz in here, twenty-four minutes late and apologize your way into a job, did you? We may be short handed, but I’m not that desperate.”

You felt yourself deflate, nearly folding over in the chair. That stung, the feeling pounding in your chest. “No, I at least wanted to explain-” You rushed the words out only to be cut off once again, this time by a singular finger. This one glinted in the lighting, a silver band circling his ring finger.

“I don’t need excuses, I need reliable staff, and reliable staff isn’t a naive, unguarded, untested woman waltzing in here like she knows up from down. Because, Darling,” His voice was saccharine sweet now, oozing with malice as you felt yourself trembling. That thrum of power was growing more palpable and more overwhelming. You could feel the sheen of sweat on your skin as your heart pounded loud enough to set the beat for the playlist the night before.

“Your mind is wide open.” A purr now, caressing over you as his eyes drank in your current state. “I wonder how long it would take your legs to follow suit.”

“Rhys,” You faintly recognized the deeper rumbling as Azriel, though you had lost track of him when your focus had locked into Rhysand.

“Quiet, Azriel. The last thing I need is a wide eyed human getting raked over and spilling her guts to every Daemon walking through those doors,” A hiss towards Azriel, his gaze flickering from you towards the other male before he looked back at you. Up and down your form pointedly before he raised his hand again, dismissively waving it over you. “I’m so sorry, but this isn’t going to work. Please see yourself out.”

You hadn’t been able to get a word in edgewise the entire time, the deflation fading into a sinking, roiling feeling in your gut as you felt your head spin at the offhanded rejection. Your mouth opened and then closed, all your strength going into forcing yourself to stand. The sting of tears and the blur of your vision made you hiss, dragging the heel of your palm roughly under your eyes as you went to turn around.

You felt defeated and humiliated.

“Thank you for the interview,” You pushed the words out shakily, your breath rattling in your chest as you took leaden steps towards the door. You’d blown it, and you knew you’d have to relive this with Nesta and Feyre.. And you didn’t want to.

Adding insult to injury is Cassian, standing at the door with a sad smile as he opens it up for you, reaching for something. “I can walk you to your car, at least. It’s pouring out there.”

You shake your head at the kind but bittersweet offer and choose to duck underneath his arm and meet the rain head on. At the very least it would mask the tears streaming down your cheeks and cool the brazen flush of embarrassment at your royal screw-up. You made it to the car before you fully broke down, head resting on the top arc of your steering wheel as the sobs wracked your body.
Your arms curled around your middle in an attempt to hold some of it, any of it back, but the loss of just an interview sent your thoughts spiraling out of control.

What if your move here had been a mistake? Your friends meant well, you knew they did, but you couldn’t help but think they somehow knew you’d been jealous and wished for what they had accomplished here. That you were regretting your choices to stay behind and now they were only tolerating you out of pity. You’d never been the most popular, never been the prettiest. You’d always felt you sat in the middle, a friend to all but befriended by none, not in a way that ever truly mattered.

It made the loss of this possible opportunity ring so much worse in that hollow, gaping space seated behind your heart. The ragged edges had been soothed the night before, threaded through with hope that had been ripped out with a single dismissive hand wave. You hated how easily you’d crumpled, how you’d lacked conviction to put up a fight. Stepped back, like you’d been raised to do, and not make a scene.
Quiet acceptance and a polite thanks in response to dismissal.

To make matters worse, when you’d cried yourself to empty in the parking lot and finally checked your phone, it was only just past two in the afternoon. You definitely didn’t want to go home, but you didn’t know where else to go without getting horrifically lost in the meantime. At the very least the rainstorm had abated enough you felt comfortable starting the engine to pull the car into the street. Against your earlier decision, you simply started to drive. Aimless and with no destination in mind you set yourself to cruising through Velaris.

The architecture of the downtown district was a maze of old buildings that created meandering blocks that mirrored the fluidity of the Sidra River. Each building had personality, magnificent and glistening with rainwater and weathered stone that whispered to you of past events and hidden secrets. You were lucky enough to have the streets mostly to yourself thanks to the rain, otherwise your snails crawl of a pace would have seen you rear ended. Buildings blur and pass as the rain begins to pour once more, its second wind matching your own. Perhaps the failure had you seeking out trouble, or something out of the normal want to curl up in a ball and lament your failures.

You decided to turn into a semi-full parking lot, parking and turning the key to listen to the rain pattering against the roof as you took in another series of deep breaths. While the tears had stopped, you still felt that shuddery sort of hitch in your breathing and felt the lingering pain in your chest threatening to renew the flow of tears. You didn’t want that, you didn’t want to wallow. You, oddly, wanted to be angry. You grabbed your purse, slinging the strap over your shoulder as you got out. Already wet, a few more raindrops failed to bother you as you bumped the door closed with your hip and headed inside. The signage read The Cauldron, an oddly lit greenish neon crown adorning the building with a touch of modernity. You could see ivy clinging to the worn masonry, a regal lion buried beneath time.

You pulled the grass door handle carefully this time, not eager to repeat your earlier accidentally dramatic entrance. The interior was a dimly lit, cozy bar. The soft glow of warm light bulbs contrasted with the green of the outside signage, and a shudder left you as the warmth of the interior reached you through the soaked fabric of your clothes. At least you hadn’t worn jeans since it had been a job interview, but either way, you wished you’d had the foresight to keep an emergency kit in your backseat or trunk. Hindsight was always delightful.. You’d deal with it later.

As the door closed behind you, the man at the bar turned around. A cascade of red hair flowed like a fiery waterfall along his shoulders and down his back. One eye was a glimmering amber, the other was.. Mechanical? From this distance, it just looked golden. Ringed by scarring around that eye and onto his cheek it only added to his visage rather than detract from it. Had he been in a fight at some point? Despite your staring, he waved you over with a friendly smile that matched the warmth that was steadily taking the edge off of your shivering. A few tables held a scattered assortment of patrons, but the bar was full of free seats. You made your way to one at the corner, one that had less of a chance of people sitting near you and boxing you in.

“Rough day, I take it?” Warmth seemed to be his theme, as his voice was honeyed and drew you in as you gave him a tired smile.

“Rough might be an understatement.. Or over, I haven’t decided yet.” You reached out, picking up a menu to your left before putting your purse on the hook underneath the overhang of the bar. “What kind of drink do you make for ‘I was late to a job interview for reasons out of my control and the guy was a massive jerk about it and I didn’t get the interview, much less the job’?”

You looked at him expectantly, struck by his beauty. A small part of you wondered if you’d get used to it, the sheer natural beauty you were understanding the supes possessed. You also tried not to stare at his golden eye, taking in the intricate mechanics that made it up. It looked advanced, and you turned the thought over that it too was supernatural in origin. It would certainly make sense. He looked too flabbergasted to notice how you were ogling him or he was simply used to it.
That was a thought, you supposed. Being so good looking, so handsome, perhaps some of them no longer have the looks a second thought.

“Well, that is certainly a tall, highly specific order, but I think I can work with it.” He looked you over and you could hear a faint whirring sound. But unlike previous looks, you felt nothing. No pin, no intense urge to swoon… and that made you relax a bit more. “Sweet or savory?”

You wrinkled your nose. Savory was not a word you expected to hear for a drink, though it wasn’t wrong. “Sweet, please. And go easy on me, I don’t drink very often.” If by often you of course meant… ever.

“You wound me.” He moved a hand over his heart, letting out a chuckle as he picked up a glass and started to pour several things into it. Alcohol, juice, ice, each pour a flourish of it’s own, right down to the way the ice was sent bobbing as he topped it off with a garnish of pineapple after giving it a very stern shake in a tumbler. You raised an eyebrow and he grinned. Quick fingers also placed one of those cheesy paper umbrellas into it, a wink thrown in your direction. “This, we call a Painkiller. Fitting, given your troubles.”

He was perceptive, noting the puffiness of your eyes and the lingering flush on your nose and cheeks that wasn’t a simple side effect of the rain. You were too busy marveling at the brightness of the drink to notice, especially not as you took that first sip from the straw. Pineapple and coconut were vibrant, the flavors dancing on your tongue with a sweetness mixed with tanginess, masking the burn of the alcohol. It was indulgent and it very much did take the edge off your irritation and lingering sadness.

“Wow… this is amazing,”

“I would hope so, otherwise I would be out of a job.” That chuckle surfaced again, light and seeming to bounce around the two of you, drawing you in again. He was just so bright, appealing in a way that was so vastly different.

Where you’d witnessed power and darkness, this was warmth and something you couldn’t put a finger on. To call him weak wasn’t something that felt right in your gut. While he may not have been as solidly built as Cassian, his form was graceful and strong in it’s own right. He reminded you of a fox. Sly and cunning, yes, but so much more. Agile and beautiful.
You absently stirred your straw in your drink, letting out a low groan.

“Do you want to talk about it? It’s been a boring day as is,” A jovial tone, his offer and comment good-natured and not a jab in the least.

Getting it off your chest was for the best, and he was not someone you knew nor did you assume he’d somehow report it back to Feyre and Nesta. You nodded and took another sip of your drink. More courage before you ran your mouth. “So for a bit of context, I guess, I just moved here,” He nodded, leaning on his side of the bar. You had his undivided attention.

“My friends and I went out last night to celebrate at a club down the way and they are evidently hiring. So I was told to come back today, go in, do an interview. And like I already mentioned.. I was late. The rain started, there was an accident, and I got turned around trying to navigate the alternate routes MyMaps was trying to send me on.” You reached up, pushing your hair back out of your face. “So I was twenty-three minutes late, caught in the downpour on the way inside, and I… wasn’t even what they were looking for anyway.”

That was the part that infuriated you the most. Naive, unguarded, untested. The naive part was fair; you were in a new city, a new lifestyle, a new culture of sorts, but the rest? It felt unnecessary. The whole thing felt unnecessary actually. He could have said something the second you walked in, and that have been that. But no, he had been cruel about it.

“Their loss, you seem lovely.” Another wink. You felt your stomach flutter.

“Thanks.. You should try me on a day when I’m not soaked through.” You thought he may be laying it on a little thick, but flattery never hurt. It certainly was a fine help to boost your spirits as they were propelled by more sips of your drink.

His laugh made you smile. “I’m sure you’re beyond lovely in those moments.”

“Don’t take it personally.” You jumped as another voice joined the conversation, seated to your left. Another male, though his presence was much different. You could feel it in the same way you felt the power radiating off of Rhysand, though this power was much more… dangerous. Predatory in a way that made you feel like you had your back to a bear, a lion, a beast, rolled into one.

You swore you could feel fangs pierce your neck, hand moving and curling around your neck before you realized what you were doing.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of a striking face framed by golden blond hair and piercing green eyes that didn’t waver as they stared you down. You felt pinned in place again, as though one wrong move might lead to him pouncing.
It was a thought that wasn’t entirely unwelcome. Meeting attractive male after attractive male despite the earlier disaster of an interview still left you with many lurid imaginings that you would never share. You shifted in your seat slightly, finally dredging up the courage to turn and face him fully.

He was stunning and you had no doubt that he would be. He too favored a more honed and refined build that you knew was stronger than appearances led you to believe, without adding in the fact he was also supernatural. Elegant with a lurking carnality, the grace of the way he was perched in his chair and watching you continued to paint more mental images of a beast waiting to pounce. You suppressed a shiver, tucking an errant strand of we hair behind your ear.

Before you could speak, he shook his head slightly. “Lucien, do me a favor and check the back for spare clothes.” Spare clothes? You brows furrowed. “I’m sure we have some older t-shirts and such in the storage boxes from last year.”

Lucien dipped his head, “I’ll be right back,” He flipped his towel over his shoulder and headed to the back, leaving you mostly alone with the blond stranger.

“I’m not trying to offend you either, but you’ll catch your cold if you sit here soaking wet like that. Now, like I said. Don’t take it personally, Rhysand thinks too highly of himself and his little establishment.”

“Sorry,” You shook your head, turning now so that your body faced him instead of just your head. “How did you know that?”

His smile was sharp, amusement dancing in green eyes flecked with gold. It was mesmerizing. He tapped the side of his nose with one long finger. “A keen sense of smell is something most of us possess, and Rhysand has a particular stench that annoys me greatly.”

You blinked, at a loss. You went from that warm cloud to feeling yourself falling once more and remedied it by pulling your drink back to sit in front of you to take another long sip. The bright, velvety glide of the drink pulled you off of the fall for the moment, and you let out a breath through your nose. “...Sorry, I..”

“Just moved here, I heard.” His smile softened from it’s prior sharp amusement and he offered you his hand. “Tamlin,”

You accepted the hand just as Lucien seemed to kick the swinging employee door open and cause you to flinch. “You,” He sounded cheerfully annoyed, “Were correct. We have shirts and we have joggers, if you don’t mind the fact that it is a shameless and blatant advertisement of the bar.” A box was placed on the bar top beside you filled to the brim with rolled shirts and pants. A moment later, two folded towels were placed beside it.

“Take your pick, go wild, take the whole box for all I care. I thought we’d thrown these out ages ago but Tamlin has a tendency to hoard things.” He laughed, and placed a napkin over the top of your drink. “The restroom, assuming you want to change and dry off a little, is down this hall and the second door on the left.”

It felt remarkably generous, but you were relieved. “Thanks, really. How much? The drinks and the clothes?”

Tamlin shook his head, golden hair rippling with the movement and catching the warm light as it did. It looked streaked through with gold, just like his eyes. “On the house. Consider it a gesture in not all of us are as rude as Rhysand.”

Your hand stilled in searching through the box for your size, an incredulous look thrown his way. “I.. that’s really generous but I can p-”

You’re cut off by his larger, much warmer hand moving over your free hand. “I insist, though if you want to twist my arm about repayment, then you can sit and talk to me after you get dried off. Is that fair?”

Your gut seemed to twist as his hand squeezed yours softly, his thumb brushing the back of your hand. You nodded swiftly, cheeks flushing as you pulled away to snag the right shirt and joggers, the rest of the box pushed back towards Lucien with a mumbled thank you. You went down the aforementioned hall, looking at the paintings of dense forests and sprawling, rolling hills so realistic they threatened to pull you in and leave you stranded in the picturesque paradises. You shook it off and pushed the restroom door open, surprised to find the coziness of the bar extended to the bathroom.

Dark tile wrapped along the walls, dual stalls in richly stained dark wood set up to be spacious rather than restricted slots meant for quantity over quality. You turned, choosing to lock the door itself and take advantage of the unoccupied space. You set the bundle of dry clothes onto the counter and looked into the middle mirror, the oval disc back lit and surrounded by a halo of more warm light. It softened the bedraggled mess that you were. You rubbed your cheeks with your fingers, sighing as you looked over features you considered too plain to be noticed. It had always been that way, and none of the innumerable attempts at learning the constantly changing makeup techniques had improved your chances, so you’d stopped wasting the money. A wise choice, or you’d have to add mascara streaks to the mortification list.

You peeled off your blazer and blouse, setting them aside to deal with in a moment. Your flats were kicked off so you could remove the slim legged dress pants that you felt gave wet jeans a run for their money. With the door locked, you relaxed a bit more, hands on the edge of the triple vanity sink. A deep breath in, a deep breath out, eyes closed to try and ground yourself. The first towel was used to wrap your hair for the time being, the second to dry yourself properly.

The stick of your wet undergarments was grating on you however, and you bit your lip to mull over your options. You’d get your change of clothes wet if you kept them on, but you would feel indecent if you took them off.

Your mind drifted back to Tamlin’s comment about a keen sense of smell, biting down harder on your bottom lip. Surely not… You were a little tipsy from drinking on an anxious, empty stomach. Your undergarments were shed quickly, your fresh change of clothes slipped on quicker still as you fought to keep your nerve. Who cared? You packed your wet clothes into a neat bundle and turned your attention to your hair, drying it with the towel as best you could, scrunching the strands to entice the natural waves you hated and loved in equal measure. It was better, but nothing special.

Your fingers bunched in the hem of the t-shirt, looking over the logo with a wrinkled nose. The Cauldron, spelled out and looking like it had spilled from an overturned cauldron to the left of the name. It was cute, matching the green of the neon outside, and the business name spelled out down the left leg of the joggers. It hugged your soft curves, clinging a little too tightly to your chest than you would have liked but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Blatant advertising indeed, but both articles were softer than you expected. You snatched the towels back up as well as your clothes and headed back to the bar.

A few of the previous patrons had drifted out. Whether it was still raining was unknown since you couldn’t hear anything outside. A whistle from the bar drew your attention back to Tamlin and Lucien, the former letting his eyes rove your body. You coughed, cheeks flaming as you moved to your seat. Something bulky and dark was draped over the back, over your purse you’d left draped there like this was your house and not a business. You picked it up, the fabric luxuriously soft and with no designs or decals on it, it was just a simple black hoody.
You didn’t think twice and slipped it on, sighing happily at the fact it was too large for you. It swallowed you up, the hem resting below your bottom and covering most of the reasons for your insecurities in the lush material.

“Thank you,” You breathed out the thanks, suddenly enveloped in a heady fragrance. You were surrounded in silken darkness, the outline of trees surrounding you. The scent of moss and cypress filled your nostrils, the tang of blood and warm fur faint yet appealing traces that swept you further into the embrace of the darkened forest. Though you’d never smelled it before, you knew the next curl was a whispering of gun smoke, sweet resins wafting through your olfactory senses. It was divine, the crush of the fabric under your nose as you held the collar of the hoody to your nose had you breathing in impossibly deep as it set your head spinning. Your thighs clenched and rubbed together, warm arousal swelling in your core as the scent roused something in you, much to your surprise.

His nostrils flared, green eyes narrowed on you and darkening as he watched you slip into his hoody with no thought.
“Any time.” He reached over the bar, earning a swat on the hand from Lucien as he brought a bottle over, and then a glass. Bourbon according to the label, a generous portion poured into the waiting glass. “Now,” You looked over with your face still nestled in the fabric and moved into your chair slowly. He tracked you closely before he raised the glass in your direction. “To failed interviews, otherwise I’d never have met you.”

The silver lining made you smile, and you raised your glass as well to toast a situation that was turning around. “To failed interviews.”

Lucien clinked his own shot glass to both yours and Tamlin’s glass with a cheeky smirk, downing his drink before setting it aside. “I’ll drink to that. Lovely, I told you, more lovely still with less water on you.” He winked.

You sipped again, a happy and fluttering warmth in your chest coupled with the arousal in your core adding to the false bravado that had you sitting there like you did this often. “It isn’t like I needed the job, but it would have been nice.”

It was a small gripe on your part; you’d saved what you could during college courses and had a decent stash and rainy day fund. You were just one of those people that couldn’t stand being idle for long. It made you anxious, your fingers tapping against the bar top.

“Rhysand is not the only one hiring, you know,” Tamlin traced a finger along the rim of his glass. He hadn't looked away from you since you’d slipped the hoody on, though you thought nothing of it. “Lucien could use a backup runner, and we’re always looking for waitresses. Full or part time, I’m flexible, considering you did say you just moved in.”

You were once again caught off guard, opening your mouth to object before closing it and worrying your bottom lip. “I would love to, but I uh.. Feel bad for the circumstances.”

“You shouldn’t. Things happen for a reason, and sometimes those things happen to work out. If you’re up for it,” He finished his bourbon and pushed the glass towards Lucien, who rolled his eyes. “We can talk details in my office.”

The nail of your ring finger moved over the pad of your thumb, a nervous tic you paid no attention to anymore. Tamlin didn’t miss it and offered you a hand. You accepted, shivering at the feeling of his warm hand enveloping yours. You nodded, picking up your purse as he made a low noise and snagged your wet clothes. Once your feet touched the flooring, he lead you across the room, down a short hallway and to a stairwell with an electric lock. He input a code, and you paused with sudden apprehension.

“Ah, that looks bad doesn’t it… It’s more that Lucien’s office is behind the bar, my office is down in the basement. It’s a split business, bar on the main floor, members lounge in the basement, and for the really special occasions, ballroom on the second floor.”

“I wasn’t saying you would, I’m sorry.!” You felt bad for doubting his intentions and went down the stairs ahead of him after another moment. You stepped to the side as he came down behind you, aware of how close he was before he went around you and continued down the hallway. The cozy atmosphere had shifted into something that felt darkly luxurious, the lighting dimmer and less warm but you found that it didn’t bother you or impede your sight too much. Before too long you reached the door to his office, a heavy wooden door with carvings you couldn’t make out. You’d look later, if you landed the job.

He directed you to a low backed chair, choosing to lean back against his desk in front of you. To the side you saw a monitor, a closed laptop and a scattering of memorabilia that you weren’t able to focus on as Tamlin softly cleared his throat. You looked back up at him, feeling much smaller than before.

“Before you agree to anything, and I say this as politely as I can, you need to understand that working here, which would mainly be upstairs, is a very different beast than most places. Supernaturals and humans mingle here, and downstairs we cater to a more… uninhibited crowd?”

You felt your mouth form an o, nodding slowly, You hadn’t seen the rest of the downstairs layout, but you felt another swirl of heat in your core as more than a few ideas bounced around in your mind. Your experience with clubs of any kind was minimal, much less anything risque and your thoughts were running wild. You crossed your legs in an attempt to play cool, an excuse to move that wasn’t just you squirming. This time you saw his nostrils flare, your eyes widening and cheeks flushing again.

He didn’t frown, merely smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. Keen smell.. Right… This was new, unexpected territory, and while you weren’t innocent, you weren’t the most forward. “I bring it up for a few reasons. I’m going to assume you’re not from a larger city and you’re largely unaware of several things that are common knowledge to our community. Namely certain dynamics.” You nodded, and his smirk grew, but you didn’t feel belittled. “Would you like me to explain?”

You nodded again, swallowing thickly.

“You’re aware of our general groupings, Shifters, Daemons, Vampires,” You nodded, feeling a bit like a bobble head. “Good girl,” You felt your chest tight, those words and his voice spearing through you. “Those are broad terms. We are diverse, but share a few commonalities. We’re in touch with our primal side in a way humans no longer are, and curbing those cravings leads to problems. Businesses like mine, and unfortunately, Rhysand’s, are ways we have to deal with these things out of the public eye in a safe and controlled environment.”

It made sense, but the new knowledge made your head spin.

“That goes for more than sex, mind you. Feedings are done here as well, among other things. Like I said, safe and controlled, though I have had issues with customers that push the limits.”
“That.. makes sense. Everyone deals with that. I can.. Handle that. And you said I’d be working mostly upstairs?”

He nodded, the ripple of golden hair catching your eyes again. The soft movement caused a scent to waft under your nose, pulling you back in. The same scent as the hoody. His scent.
The realization sent a pulse through you. “I.. Your hoody..”

“I am.. Very territorial, and you came in here reeking of one of my largest rivals. Soaking wet, mind you, but still smelling like him. You were also cold, so it served more than one purpose. Which leads to the next thing; working here can have moments that are dangerous. One way around that is to either wear charms to guard against outside manipulation such as mental manipulation, or wear something heavily scented marking that you belong here and are under my protection.”

Scent. Marking. Protection. Specifically his. You nodded, fingers rubbing the cuffs of the sleeves.

“I’m letting you know all this so you know everything up front. It’s overwhelming and a lot to learn but I’m willing to help you. Lucien is too. We’ve both been around for a long time, and I take very good care of my employees.”

You heard more than one meaning in his words, continuing to rub your thumb against one of the cuffs of the sleeve, weighing your options. He’d remained leaned against the desk, and was being upfront with you. “I’d love a job, but I really don’t want to risk complicating anything…” If being late had cost you your last job, you didn’t want to get into what getting involved with you boss would do.

He laughed, much to your amazement. A deep belly laugh as his arms uncrossed to rest beside him on the desk. “I understand, don’t worry. I know it’s frowned upon in human workplaces to have dalliances.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest now. “Is it not frowned upon here?”

He raked a hand through his hair, looking satisfied and smug. “It isn’t. We all have base needs that need to be met. I’m not doing my job if anyone here isn’t being taken care of properly. It’s hard to put to words, but it’s…” He tapped a finger against his chin. “Call it an Alpha complex,” His tone was teasing, that smile gracing his features again and making your heart flutter.

“And if I am being transparent and honest, under the stink of that Illyrian brat, your scent has been driving me wild since you came in.”

“My.. I don’t wear perfume.” Your brain sort of just stuttered, raising your arm to sniff at your wrist. Maybe something in the laundry detergent?

His laugh was a throaty rumble, sending a shiver down your spine as he caught your arm in his hand to push the long sleeve of his hoody up. The tips of his fingers dragged against your skin softly, goosebumps trailing in his wake as he lifted your arm higher to press a kiss to the inside of your wrist. His lips were soft and warm, lingering for a moment before he dragged his nose in a line down your arm. “It isn’t perfume.. Everyone, humans included, has a scent that is uniquely their own. And you smell remarkably decadent…”

You couldn’t help the small sound that left you as you heard the way his words trailed into a low growl. It sent a shiver down your spine, and he met your eyes with a heated gaze. He’d heard the sound, you had no doubt. “Should I tell you what you smell like?” You nodded, feeling like you couldn’t breathe. He chuckled, pressing another kiss to your wrist. “Simple, but so very sweet. Like amber and honey… And dark chocolate… decadent, something I want to wrap my lips around and savor,”

You sucked in a gasp at his words, his eyes maintaining their hold on you. On you and through you. He pulled you up and spun you in his arms, backing you up a step so that your backside rested against the lip of the desk. He twined his fingers through yours, his free hand moving to the hem of the hoody and sliding underneath it to rest on your hip, over the fabric of your shirt. His thumb traced along your side as his body pressed closer to yours. All honed muscle rippling underneath his shirt, warmth nearly overwhelming as he continued to move you back until he had you seated on the desk with him standing between your legs.

His kisses trailed up your arm, over fabric as you felt each press as a searing, pleasant burn despite the barrier between you. As he climbed higher, hitting your shoulder, you let out a shaky breath. Higher still, and his lips ghosted between the collar and your skin, his warm breath fanning out across your skin and leaving you aching to feel his lips against your neck.

Instead of his lips you instead felt his fingers grip your chin softly and the tip of his nose raze up your neck. His breath continued to fan against your skin and the feeling was unlike anything else. It was like a swell of pleasure racing through you and the sound that left you wasn’t anything you recognized. He rumbled, the sound welling from deep in his chest and reverberating through you. Your thighs clenched around him, eyes opening as you gasped. “W-wait-”

He pulled his face away from your neck and left you enough space you could draw in a shaky breath. He was staring at you in a way that made you feel breathless. Lust and desire lit his eyes, dark flecks of gold reflecting in the dim lighting. Your hands moved slowly to his sides, ghosting upwards and feeling the way you made him shiver in turn. It made you smirk this time and your hands came to rest on his shoulders, tracing against the linen of his shirt. He didn’t move, giving you the pause you had requested.

You were lost in him, surrounded by his scent. Rich and earthy, finding it as decadent as he proclaimed he found you to be. It was seductive and pulled you in, leaving you leaning up and towards him to mirror they way he’d razed his nose against your neck. If you’d thought the smell of him was strong before, it was absolutely suffocating in the best way here, even to your paltry human senses. Your eyes fluttered closed, moaning as you took in a long, deep breath of nothing but him.

“When can I start?” You breathed the question out, not doubting he heard the feathery words as strong hands wrapped around your hips.