#tpd2

Aelin was stomping through the manor, her detail trailing behind her warily. She’d come out of her father’s office, fire in her eyes, her body language conveying that she was looking for a fight. She’d glared at Lorcan, livid, and then had turned her gaze to Fenrys, who flinched. She blew past them, Rowan trailing behind her, his eyebrows raised at Fenrys in question. The blonde just shook his head and nodded for him to continue to follow the president’s daughter wherever she was going.

She was up the stairs and slamming her bedroom door just as Rowan came up the stairs. She locked it behind her, threw herself on the bed, and screamed into her pillow.

How dare her father think Rowan would be a good idea for her bodyguard. How dare Lorcan and Fenrys suggest she needed one. How dare Rowan have the nerve to show up after three years and think he could just come back into her protection detail.

She rolled over onto her back, staring up at her ceiling. She needed out of this house before she did something stupid.

She grabbed her phone, dialing a number she knew by heart. The person on the other end picked up, delivering a smooth line that had her rolling her eyes.

“Meet me in the fortress in half an hour,” she said into the phone and then hung up.

She sat up and eyed her locked door before going to her balcony, opening up the French doors. She looked around, making sure a detail wasn’t patrolling the grounds before grabbing the trellis next to her balcony and scaling down it.

-

Aelin collapsed on top of him, panting as she came down from her orgasm. She laid her head on his chest, listening to his pounding heart as he ran fingers up and down her spine.

“You must be in some mood today,” Dorian Havilliard commented in an amused tone.

She raised her head, scowling at him. “Can we not talk about it?”

He rolled them over, pulling out of her and planting a deep kiss on her lips before climbing off her and getting dressed. She propped her head up on her hand as she watched him.

“I’m always happy to tangle in the sheets with you Miss Galathynius, but you gotta actually talk about what’s bothering you sometimes,” he told her, coming back to lay beside her on the mass of blankets.

She groaned and pulled her clothes on, looking out the window of the huge treehouse to see if anyone would be coming to find her. No one was in sight, but she knew it wouldn’t stay that way for too much longer. She sighed, turning to lay back down next to the man who was probably her closest friend and ally.

“Rowan is back,” she muttered, staring at the lofted ceiling.

Dorian let out a laugh from beside her and she pinched his side.

“It’s not funny!” She glared at him.

He smirked at her, rolling on his side to face her. “You gotta let shit go, Aelin.”

“This is your father’s fault you know,” she griped, sitting up. “If he would be a little nicer, people wouldn’t send him death threats, and then my dad wouldn’t feel the need to make my life hell by placing Rowan as my personal bodyguard.”

He laughed again. “Hold on, Agent Whitethorn is your bodyguard? Oh this is rich. This is divine justice. This is—”

She shoved him once, twice, laughter erupting out of him.

“It’s. Not. Funny!”

He batted her hands away, sitting up so they were eye level. The smirk never left his face.

“Love, I don’t know what to tell you. You’re a big girl now, I think you can handle it.”

She almost hissed at him. “You’re the worst best friend.”

He shook his head and got up, grabbing his jacket and shrugging it on. “I’m your only best friend, princess.”

He reached a hand down to help her up and she took it, smacking him on the arm as she let go. He shoved her playfully before heading down the ladder, her following close behind. They landed on the ground and he wrapped his arms around her in a comforting hug.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure you’ll figure it out. It’s been three years. See if you two can just… start over,” he told her, pulling back to look at her face. “Your father has every right to be worried. After everything that happened…”

Her jaw subconsciously clenched and she nodded, not needing him to go any further. It was something she was still working through.

He gave her his soft, gentle smile and then ruffled her hair, pulling away. His eyes connected with something over her head and the smile turned to a devious grin. He looked back to her, shaking his head.

“Speak of the Devil.”

Aelin spun to see Rowan less than one hundred feet away, stalking up to her. She almost groaned at the slightly pissed off look at his face and turned back to Dorian quickly.

“You better run before he hurts you,” she whispered to him sarcastically.

He winked at her and placed a kiss on her cheek before walking in the direction Rowan was coming. She turned to watch him, watched as Dorian passed her bodyguard with a cheerful and polite “Good afternoon Agent Whitethorn,” watched as Rowan just leveled a look at him that would have most people running, watched as his attention turned back to her in full force.

He stopped in front of her, less than a foot away, face unreadable as he looked at her. She stared back, arms crossed over her chest, waiting.

“Dorian Havilliard? Really?” he finally asked, his tone flat.

She scoffed. “Yes really, not that it’s any of your business. Why do you care?”

“Why do you even see anything in him?”

“He has a nice dick. Oh don’t look at me like that, you’re the one who asked!”

The look he gave Dorian, he gave her as he pointed his finger back towards the manor. “Go inside. Now.”

“Are you jealous?” she cooed, cocking her head. “I’m not the little 16 year old girl you left behind, you know.”

His eyes drifted over her, assessing her with an indifferent gaze before his eyes met hers again. “No. You’re not. Now get inside.”

“Make me, Captain. Make my day,” she purred back to him.

“Aelin, if you don’t get back inside, I will throw you over my shoulder.”

“You wouldn’t,” she scoffed, but took a step back.

He just rose an eyebrow and then was tossing her over his shoulder before she knew it, knocking the breath out of her.

“Put me down!” she yelled, pounding on his back as he walked back towards the manor.

“You’re right, you’re not 16 anymore. You’re acting like a fucking five year old.”

She gaped at his backside, wondering if he really said what she thought he just said.

“Oh I’ll show you a fucking five year old,” she growled, starting to thrash against him to get him to let her go.

His arm clamped down over her legs, halting her movements, but she still smacked his back, hurling obscenities at him. But he didn’t put her down, even when they got inside the house.

“Rowan, put me down or I swear to the gods—”

“It’s good to see that you’re taking your job seriously, Captain Whitethorn.”

Aelin’s eyes went wide at the sound of her mother’s voice, the amused tone that colored her words.

“No one told me I’d have to save Aelin from herself,” Rowan joked. Joked.

Evalin rounded Rowan to look at her daughter, who gazed at her from her upside-down position. She glared playfully at her mother. The traitor.

“What were you doing?” Evalin asked, her turquoise eyes, Aelin’s eyes, crinkling with laughter.

“I was just hanging out with Dorian,” Aelin huffed.

Evalin raised a brow at that. “Mm. Hanging out.”

She shot her mom a real glare this time. “Yes.”

Evalin smirked and looked back to Rowan. “Carry on, Captain.”

Aelin gasped as she watched her mom walk away. Was everyone in this house against her?

Rowan carried her up the stairs and finally set her down on her feet outside the door to her bedroom. She immediately tried to shove him, but it was like trying to move a brick wall. She almost screamed in frustration.

He opened the door for her, and gestured her to go inside. “This time, stay inside the house.”

“I hate you,” she muttered, slinking into her room and slamming the door shut behind her.

She leaned against it, releasing a heavy sigh. Despite what had just happened, Dorian’s words from early rang through her head. See if you two can just… start over. She clenched her jaw. Damn him.

She turned and threw the door back open, surprised to see Rowan still there, standing against the wall outside of her room. His eyes flicked to hers as she stepped out into the hall.

“I’m sorry,” she told him. “For being a brat.”

She could’ve sworn a smirk flitted across his lips. He turned to her, leaning his shoulder against the wall.

“I’m just glad to see that three years apart hasn’t changed your fiery spirit, Aelin,” he commented.

An amused smile lifted up the corners of her mouth, almost against her will.

“I’m glad to see that three years apart has made you hotter, Agent Whitethorn,” she purred.

He ran his thumb across his lip, a movement Aelin immediately tracked. He shook his head at her and returned back to his position of standing outside her door.

“Is there anything else, Miss Galathynius?”

She rolled her eyes and scoffed at the change in their conversation.

“Yeah. Fuck off.”

And with that, she went back into her room, wondering why she even bothered in the first place.

-