CHAPTER 139: A PET

Aira had already made it clear that she didn’t want Rymora in the bathroom, and Rymora didn’t bother to move from her spot.

Instead, she waited there for Aira to return, which took more time than she would have liked before Aira finally stepped out.

But Aira had barely exited when she instantly told Rymora that she could leave.

"I can dress myself! You can make yourself useful by tossing away the seeds given to me by a kind man and a friend!"

"Better still, you can eat it on my behalf since I can’t!" Aira said, her voice sharp, her tone clipped with annoyance that clung to every word.

Rymora simply pretended not to understand, bowing her head slightly—something she never did—before stepping out of the room with the pouch carefully tucked into her pocket.

Aira was angry, yes, but beyond that was the gnawing thought of food. Her body had burned through what little breakfast she’d managed, and now all she could think about was the ache in her arms and the emptiness in her stomach.

’I’m hungry,’ she mumbled under her breath as she slipped on a dress and moved toward the door.

But she had barely gotten close when it suddenly swung open.

At first, she assumed it was Rymora returning, but her lashes fluttered as she took in the tall figure stepping into the room like he owned it.

Maybe because he did.

It was Zyren—wearing his signature all-black clothes and matching shoes. Always the same shade of obsidian, down to the smallest thread, which made Aira wonder if he was actually wearing the same clothes over and over.

But clearly he wasn’t! He was king.

She instantly froze, watching him raise his head and sniff the air like there was something unpleasant lingering in it—something he was determined to trace.

What was more shocking was that one second he was standing by the door, still holding the handle—and the next, he was right in front of her, sniffing her, his nose near her neck before he finally opened his mouth.

"This is your room too, but you’re not allowed to let anyone that stinks in," he said, not even attempting to sugarcoat it.

He said it so bluntly that Aira knew if she hadn’t completely smelled of soap, he would’ve outright said she stank.

She didn’t argue. Instead, she nodded and instinctively stepped back from him, something that seemed to catch his attention. His red eyes flicked over her slowly—more intensely than before—and the sharpness in his gaze made her skin prickle with wariness.

"You’ve started the training?" he asked as he backed off slightly, allowing Aira to breathe.

"Yes," she replied, nodding quickly as she watched him cross the room to his desk and pick up a letter that had been resting on the surface.

"The person you appointed is quite ru—good!" she stammered, switching the word at the last second, avoiding calling Varret rude in front of him.

The thing about Zyren was that he always looked calm—disturbingly calm—which made it impossible to predict when he’d turn completely and kill someone on a whim. He didn’t care about human life—or even vampire life. That, he had made abundantly clear.

"He treats you properly?" Zyren asked, his tone quiet but firm.

Aira swallowed and nodded again, more vigorously this time. She wasn’t about to put Varret in danger, especially when he’d done nothing wrong to her.

Moreover, she wasn’t even sure she could get better especially with the confidence that seemed to ooze from his gaze and the way he looked at everything with complete calm and confidence.

"Yes," she said.

Zyren turned back around and began to walk toward her, a faint smile curling at the edge of his lips as he spoke.

"That’s good. As long as he teaches you and does nothing more."

He came to stand beside her, close enough to cast a shadow over her shoulder, and then gestured with one hand for her to come even closer.

Aira frowned instinctively, but she scooted slightly forward—close enough that they were nearly touching.

"We’ve slept together. Twice now. I figured touching each other should be the bare minimum," he said, smirking slyly.

Aira’s face flushed hot in response, and she immediately took a step back to put distance between them—but not before Zyren reached out, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist, locking her in place.

Her heart began to pound against her ribs, hard and heavy. She looked down, refusing to meet his eyes, especially now that she could feel the hard bulge pressing against her thighs through his trousers.

Zyren dipped his head to the base of her neck, planting kisses along the side of her throat and jaw—soft but possessive—while she squirmed, trying to break free but finding herself trapped.

"Zyren," Aira gasped, trying to breathe, trying to stop him—only for his next words to freeze her completely.

"Want to make another deal?" he asked, his voice quiet, low, and far too serious.

Aira stilled, staring ahead at the strands of his long black hair that brushed her shoulder. Something about the way he said it sent a chill down her spine, not because of what it meant—but because of how much a part of her wanted to say yes.

"It’ll be worth your while," he murmured.

But before he could say more, Aira instantly snapped out of it.

"No," she said, fast and firm, her voice cutting through the thick silence.

The heat hadn’t returned—but something else had taken root. Something more dangerous than lust. The heat had merely demanded sex.

This new thing wanted more. It wanted closeness. It wanted to kiss him. To pull him in.

To want him.

Which was far worse.

Even if he hadn’t slaughtered her parents, they could never be lovers.

Because at the end of the day—no matter how gently he touched her, no matter how often he kissed her—the only thing Zyren truly saw her as...

Was a pet.