Page 52 of Wanted: A Roommate Who Isn't Evil

Still.

Mor walked around his desk and lifted his jean jacket from the back of the chair. The first order of business was to deal with Dranian. The fairy wouldn’t get a wink of restful sleep while tangled with a dreamslipper. Perhaps Mor could dive into his dream-memories and find a way to remedy the problem.

Mor arrived inside Dranian’s apartment to find a smell he didn’t expect covering the couch, left in small spaces around the kitchen, and all over the coffee machine. Mor sniffed the coffee filters, certain he had to be wrong about what his faeborn gut was saying. It all carried the smell of a familiar soul. Something like… He laughed at the absurd thought—then he sneezed. And he winced.

There also seemed to be traces of a wet human realm animaleverywhere.

Mor headed through the rest of Dranian’s empty home, his mouth tugging down at the corners. Every step left him with astronger indication that a struggle had taken place.

Queensbane, where was the auburn-haired fairy?

Mor went into the spare bedroom and gasped, overwhelmed by averyspecific fox scent that had no business being there. Unease muddled his senses, a string of warnings going off in his mind. He went into Dranian’s bedroom next, jumping in surprise to find an animal inside. The creature began to bark. Past it, Mor saw neatly spread bedsheets and a clean duvet. Like it hadn’t been touched in a while.

The animal sprang from the bedroom and raced into the living space. Mor followed it in question, and as soon as he came around the couch, his heart seized.

Light speckles of purple fairy blood covered the floor.

“What in the faeborn-cursed human realm happened to you, Dranian?” he asked the empty apartment as he raced back out, into the hall, and down the stairs. He had his phone to his ear, ready to call Cress as he flung the entrance doors open, but he felt something move overhead. High in the sky and mixed in with the clouds. He pushed out of the apartment building and looked up.

The clouds were strange. They weren’t rain clouds, but they carried gossip of shadowy mischief. Of nearby magic and mayhem. A flash of lightning erupted across the sky, and Mor nearly dropped his phone. It rang and rang for Cress, but Mor forgot about it as he picked up a thin string of scent wrapped into the wind. He followed it, clicking off his phone and shoving it backinto his pocket.

Why were there traces of Shadow Fairies this far out of town?

Why did he smell a nine tailed fox in Dranian’s apartment?

Where was his brother?

Mor jumped into the air and searched high and far. He scoured building tops, alleys, and the nearest park.

He found him. Beneath the eyes of the sky deities, Mor found Dranian.

Mor dropped behind a tree, his faeborn fairy blood running cold at the sight of Dranian on his knees, surrounded by the Shadow Army Mor was never supposed to have to deal with again. But mostly, what curled Mor’s insides was a face he knew—one that still turned up in bad dreams on cold evenings. The face of Prince Reval; the fairy who had destroyed so much of Mor’s life.

High Prince Reval stood over Dranian with a look in his eyes Mor hated to recognize; the look of a fox about to kill.

Mor gripped the tree, ripping off a handful of bark by accident. His mind waged war. Half his heart screamed at him to charge in and save his brother. The other half warned that if he did, Violet would be the one to pay the price, like before. Reval would not let anyone Mor cared about live if he presented himself now.

He padded his pocket for his phone again, but Prince Reval’s sweet, cold voice made Mor slow his movements. “What is the relationship between you and my son, exactly? You dwell together, but do you like or hate each other? Because this will go very poorly for you if he does not show up to save you.”

Mor’s gaze shot to Dranian.

Dwell? Luc and Dranian were…dwelling? Mor looked off as he thought of the potent fox scent in the apartment’s spare room. Had Luc been holding Dranian hostage all this time? Threatening him to keep him quiet? Tormenting him day and night?

Mor would kill Luc. It was settled.

“He will not come for me. Your trap is in vain,” Dranian murmured in reply.

Mor reached to his back pockets for his fairsabers. No, Luc would not come. Only Mor could save Dranian now. If Reval thought holding Dranian hostage would sway Luc, he did not know his own son.

A few more curses and threats were exchanged as Mor swept around the trunk of the tree. Shadows began striking Dranian’s shoulders with their fairsaber hilts, and Dranian shook, his blinking turning rapid. Mor’s chest tightened as he sensed the fairy’s panic beginning to take over. He broke into a run—and skidded to a halt, swinging himself around another tree.

His eyes were wide, his faeborn heart hammering. He could have sworn he just saw…

Luc.

Mor peered around the tree. Shadow Fairies sniffed the air, looking around. He ducked in further to hide when they looked in his direction.

“It was more like the other way around, actually.”

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