#Heist of Hearts | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

leiawritesstories · 29 days ago

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Part 1: Velaris

Co-Written with @mariaofdoranelle

Of Hearts and Heists Masterlist

Read on AO3

Word count: 5.8k

Warnings: swearing, grumpy Rowan, icky paparazzi, blink and you miss it angsty hints oops

A/N: @mariaofdoranelle and i are so excited about this story!!! we're also kind of busy lol so this might be very randomly updated, but we're still so excited to share it with you!!

Enjoy!!

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Four Months Earlier

Aelin blinked awake at the soft tap on her shoulder, brushing the bleariness from her eyes. She touched a button on the side of her headphones, turning off the noise-canceling feature, and moved one of the cups off of her ear, looking inquisitively up at the uniformed flight attendant standing politely beside her reclined seat.

“We are preparing for descent, Ms. Galathynius,” the lady said softly. “I’ll need to bring your seat upright. Would you like to stay here or move into another part of the cabin?”

“I can move, thank you.” Swinging her sleepy legs over the side of the makeshift bed, she got up, picked up her small bag and the media report her publicist left while Aelin was asleep, then moved to the other half of the private plane’s cabin. Comfortable beige leather chairs sat in clusters of four around a few tables, and she crossed over to the one where a dark-haired man around her own age was sprawled in one of the chairs, snoring softly.

He didn’t budge when she sat down opposite him, propped her chin on her hands, and stared directly into his closed eyes. Time to work, then.

She flipped open the folder that held Elide’s report. On the first page, she’d left a Post-it note with the reminder that Aelin would meet her new bodyguard. She didn’t know anything about him, except he was highly recommended and flew from Wendlyn to temporarily replace Chaol while he was on paternity leave.

Post-it aside, Aelin knew what was inside Elide’s media report even before she opened it: a reminder of the next season of her show among a whole bunch of speculation about her love life. She wasn’t masochistic enough to Google herself and see what was being said about her, hence why her publicist always curated a sum up of what was currently being said about her, with a few headlines and hit tweets so she could have an idea of potential subjects for the next round of interviews.

And this week’s media report? Just a big are-they-or-aren’t-they.

Because if producers invite Aelin and Dorian to co-star together, it’s obviously because they’re in a romantic relationship, it wouldn’t have to do with both of them being hard-working stars who have chemistry on screen, get along with each other and the rest of the crew off-screen, and also happen to not arrive late or throw tantrums on set.

It was another several minutes before he stirred, and Aelin prepared for it, putting her work off to stare at him with crazy eyes as he pushed the silk sleep mask off of his eyes—to her delight, he gave a little shriek.

“Holy shit, Aelin!”

She snickered. “Morning, princess. Have a good beauty sleep?”

Dorian Havilliard pushed his hair away from his face with a sniff. “Since you’re clearly so invested in my well-being, yes. I did.”

“Aww, Dor, you know how easy it is to scare you.” She caught the pencil he threw at her head. “You would have been scared when you woke up anyway, since we’ll be halfway around the world.”

“That doesn’t scare me.” He settled his headphones around his neck. “We’ve both been in this game too long to be freaked out by a little time change, right?”

“Right.” Aelin turned her attention to the notes on her phone. “Are we ready for tonight?” Her publicist had left her a lengthy list of instructions for that night’s launch of the teaser trailer for the new season of “Queen of Glass,” the hit Netflix series that Aelin and Dorian starred in.

Dorian grumbled under his breath. “I guess. Wish we didn’t have to jump straight into press, but that’s just how it worked out this time.” Normally, when going to an event for their current project, they would arrive at their first stop and have a day or two to settle in, adjust to the time change, and prepare for the upcoming interviews, but their last few weeks of filming had gone later than expected, and they hadn’t been able to leave until the day before the trailer launch.

“I know, you wanted to be able to see the sights—the landmarks, the river, the art, the men.” Aelin laughed at the guilty flush that crept up Dorian’s face. “It’s okay, you know—I have a thing for Velarian men too, I’d never judge you for it.”

He smirked. “We can leave that to dear old Dad.”

She barked out a sharp laugh. “It’s too bad he won’t be at this event, because you could give him all the heart attacks.”

“About that…”

Aelin arched one eyebrow. “Why do I sense that you’re about to ask me for one of your big favors again, Dor?”

“I have a big favor to ask,” Dorian crooned, right on cue, snickering.

She sighed in pretend reluctance. “What is it?”

“Weshouldpretendtobedating.” The words spilled out of him in a single, breathless rush. He took a big gulp of breath and tried again, his fingers tapping erratically on the top of the table. “We should pretend to be dating when we give interviews.”

“Dor, sweetheart…” Her confusion grew. “Why the hell are you saying that?”

“I have a whole entire explanation that I should’ve given first, but of fuckin’ course I had to go and spill the conclusion.” He took a long drink from his water bottle. “You know how much of an asshole my dad gets when he’s stressed out during campaigns.”

Aelin nodded. “Oh, I’m very aware of Asshat-in-Chief Havilliard.”

Actually, his dad was an asshole every day of every year and managed to get worse around the elections, but Dorian was so used to the toxicity and verbal abuse that he saw it as ‘normal’.

Dorian snickered. “Well, before we left on this trip, he decided to grant me the immense favor of a two-minute phone call, and he told me quite bluntly that if I ‘do anything to screw over his campaign,’ he’d go the extra mile to ‘unscrew it’—that was a direct quote, by the way, and you know…”

“I do,” Aelin said, softening now. Havilliard Sr. was the perfect example of how dangerous it could be to hand that much power in the hands of a jackass like him. The possibilities of what he could do to his son were endless—publicly cut him off, forbid him from seeing his mother and little brother, even sink his career with a few phone calls to high-profile executives from his golf club—and the worst thing, he had no qualms about dangling this over his own son’s head when convenient. “Sounds just like the kind of shit he would say,” Aelin agreed. “What do you need?”

“The next thing he told me—as if it wasn’t already clear—was that if I’m too indiscreet, he’ll consider that me screwing over his campaign. So, I just need to keep him off my ass, get one hell of a solid alibi, you know? And I didn’t have any good ideas until I told Lys about Dad’s phone call.” He took another deep breath. “I’m not trying to shift the blame here—”

“You definitely are, but I’ll ignore it,” Aelin teased. “Go on.”

“Lys suggested that we pretend to be dating for this press tour, potentially starting as early as this event. If we’re seen in a ‘relationship,’ then all the paparazzi and tabloids will assume that we’ve been hiding it for a while, and they’ll go fucking insane trying to dig up all the little hints. They’ll get so consumed with our fake love story that they won’t pay any attention to the stuff we don’t want them to see. Plus, it will get even more engagement for the season premiere.”

“Don’t I know that,” Aelin muttered. She tapped her nails thoughtfully on the edge of the table, thinking over Dorian’s proposal. “I want to ask for time to think about it, but…Lys is right. Damn, it’s like she knows things about this.”

Dorian chuckled. “Almost like it’s her job, right?”

“Who would’ve guessed?” Aelin laughed. “It’s a hell of an idea, Dor. Do you think we can actually pull it off?”

“My beloved Elentiya,” Dorian intoned, quoting his lines from the season they had just finished filming. “My heart and soul are yours.”

“You’re such a drama queen,” she teased. “Okay. We just have a lot to plan and discuss, but… I’ll do it.”

While she hated to indirectly support Dorian’s dad, she’d do just about anything to protect her friend.

“Thank you,” he said with a soft, grateful look—completely serious for once—and reached over to squeeze her hands.

The plane touched down as they spoke, the slight jolt of the landing causing the luggage in the overhead compartments to rattle softly. The pilot’s voice crackled to life over the speaker a moment later. “Welcome to Velaris! The local time is 14:25. We will likely be taxiing for ten to fifteen minutes, so please sit comfortably until we’ve reached our gate at the private flight terminal.”

“Looks like we’ll have a few hours before the trailer launch,” Aelin remarked, glancing at her smart watch.

“At least enough time to prepare while we sit in hair and makeup,” Dorian said, somewhat cynically.

She wiggled her brows at him. “We both know your favorite part of being a famous film star is getting your hair done every day, you little diva.”

“Guilty as charged.” He combed his fingers through his dark waves.

The plane finally pulled into a gate and stopped, its engines rumbling down to silence as the jet bridge connected to the plane’s doors. Aelin stood up, stretching her arms above her head and wincing a little at the stiffness in her hips from eleven hours on a plane. Even the comfort of the private jet didn’t relieve the physical strain of such long travel days.

She fished out her pair of sunglasses from her purse, but before she could descend the jet’s stairs, her assistant Manon was already talking to a man on the floor.

A man? Aelin wasn’t sure. He was the size of a French-door refrigerator, and he was probably strong enough to lift one, too. Pale blond hair, sunglasses, black ink peeking out his collar and sleeves contrasting with that Wendlyn tan.

“Darling, is our relationship open?” Dorian slid his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to get a better look.

”Why?” she said in a teasing tone. “Last one to ride the bodyguard is a rotten egg?”

Manon, who was standing on the jet bridge, had her back to them, but she turned to give them one of her scary glares. Dorian immediately straightened, and it was only then that Aelin realized that they were both blocking the airplane door to gawk at the bodyguard.

Both hurried to descend the stairs, but Aelin went directly to her assistant—and new bodyguard—while Dorian went to Lys, probably to tell his publicist about their conversation.

The bodyguard took off his sunglasses, exposing a set of pine-green eyes. Gods, he just kept getting more attractive.

She was in such deep shit.

“Aelin,” Manon said crisply when she was within reach. “I want you to meet the personal security officer that’ll work with us while Chaol’s out.”

He gave nothing but a curt nod, his face a blank mask.

“I’m Aelin,” she offered.

“Nice to meet you, Miss Galathynius.”

“Do you have a name, or should I just snap my fingers at you?” She couldn’t resist a teasing grin, or the analytical up-and-down stare, watching as his jaw clenched.

“Whitethorn. Rowan Whitethorn.”

Rowan Whitethorn—stern, blazing green eyes, muscles for days, and tattoos that made her wonder how far they went. They curled down to the fingertips of his right hand and up part of his neck, only highlighting his…god, he was hot. An annoyed scowl crossed his stupidly handsome face. So far, his personality was the only unattractive thing about him, and his grumpy ass would stick out like a sore thumb among her team’s friendly environment.

”We treat each other on a first-name basis on my team, are you okay with this?”

He nodded. “Of course, ma’am.”

His automatic, almost robotic reply brought a slow smirk to her lips. “Let’s practice, then. Call me Aelin.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, barely concealing his irritation, and kept strong eye contact as he said, “Very well, Aelin.”

“And I’m Dorian,” the annoying pain in her ass she called a best friend and co-star cut in.

Aelin sighed. “He’s—“

”The boyfriend,” he interrupted again, this time sliding his hands around her waist. “A very possessive one, too.”

“Dorian,” Aelin sighed. “We agreed not to tell people yet!”

The incorrigible man shrugged. “I think it’s best that our security team knows, right?” She rolled her eyes. He continued, “Though I do think it’s a big insult that you don’t think I can protect you myself—I was killing zombies at 16, for Mala’s sake.”

“You and I both know the zombies were CGI-ed, Dori.”

Rowan huffed under his breath. “If the two of you are done, we have a schedule to keep. We need to get to the car.”

The private terminal was mostly quiet, but years of being in the spotlight made her extra attuned to the amount of possible eyes that could be watching. Dorian fell into step beside her as they walked through the terminal, exiting into bright summer sunlight. A black SUV with tinted windows waited beside the curb, and as they came out of the terminal, a man in dark gray pants and a long-sleeved gray shirt, dark shades covering his eyes and a clear coil of wire trailing from the earpiece in his left ear, stepped out of the car and opened the side door. Like most of the security personnel Aelin had met in her years of having a security detail, he was fairly nondescript—averagely tall and physically fit with closely cropped brown hair and a bland, forgettable face.

She left her suitcase for the guard to put into the back of the car and climbed in with Dorian, exhaling deeply at the comfort of the plush seats. “Damn, I could fall asleep so fast.”

“Don’t even think about it.” Seated in one of the seats opposite Aelin and Dorian’s row, Elide handed Aelin a steaming paper cup. “We have shit to talk about, Ae.” The petite woman had been Aelin’s publicist for five years and her close friend since childhood, and she was fearsome in front of the press.

“You are the best,” Aelin breathed, taking a sip of the double espresso in the cup.

Elide’s lips twitched into a little smile. “We’ll see how you feel about that when I’m done telling you about tonight’s event.” She glanced down at her tablet. “Dorian texted me earlier that he’d talked to you about the strategy?”

“You mean Lys’s brilliant, crackpot scheme to break the internet?”

Next to Elide, Lysandra raised one perfectly threaded eyebrow. “Lady, I know you didn’t just insult my brilliance.”

“I would never,” Aelin crooned innocently.

Dorian snorted. “You would.”

“Traitor.” She poked him in the ribs.

Lys clapped her hands. “Class is now in session. Pay attention, you two.” She and Elide shared a look. “So, Dorian told both of us that he talked to you, Aelin. Have you made up your mind about the dating plan?”

“Yes.” Aelin sipped her espresso. “I’m in.”

“Good.” Lysandra tapped something on her tablet. “We don’t think you should jump straight into it tonight, mostly because the timing isn’t great and we don’t expect you to be able to pull off a fake hard launch after traveling for most of the day. So here’s what we were thinking: when you make your red carpet appearance, just act normal. Be the two best friends that everyone knows you are.”

“But if you want to stay a little closer together, maybe stay side by side for all the photos and have multiple hugs, that wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Elide added. “The idea is that you give the press a subtle hint of what’s going to happen. Make them start to wonder if there’s anything more than friendship between the leading actors. That way, when you do launch your fake relationship, they’ll sprint back to the photos from tonight and put them up everywhere as proof that everyone missed.”

Dorian nodded slowly. “I know I say this about once a day, but you are truly a genius, Lysandra.”

“I know.” The publicist smirked. “Any questions?”

“When do you want us to do the big reveal?” Aelin asked.

Elide shrugged. “We can talk about it after the event tonight. You have a couple of free days after the trailer launch, so I was thinking that when you two go out exploring the city, you could make a point of holding hands or whatever so that people can catch those moments and start freaking out over your relationship.”

“That sounds like you’re going to stage some photos,” Aelin commented.

“Maybe I am.” Elide winked. “You should be expecting it by now, Ae.”

“I really should,” Aelin chuckled.

Dorian tilted his head to the side. “Hypothetically, what if we dropped a big hint during the screening of the trailer?”

Lys narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean by ‘big hint,’ Dor?”

He shrugged. “I dunno, like a kiss?”

“What part of not today did you not understand?” Lysandra sighed, but she noticed that Dorian was holding back laughter. “Are you…did you do that just to play me?”

“Maybe.” He snickered.

“You’re a little shit,” she laughed. “I swear, one of these days I’m going to drop you, and you’ll be running around in circles trying to figure things out.”

He shot her an angelic smile. “Lys darling, you’re the best publicist in the world.”

“I know.”

The car slowed to a stop at the back entrance of a five-story sandstone building, its walls broken with elegant arches of sparkling glass and columned balconies that were often the site of romantic photoshoots. The River Mansion, a two-century-old hotel that had been remodeled to modernize its facilities while preserving its historic architecture, was possibly one of the most beautiful buildings in Velaris. Aelin had stayed there twice before, and each time, she had loved it.

Their gray-clad security guard opened the door, and the four of them climbed out of the car, Aelin falling into step next to Dorian with the two publicists and Manon in front of them as they walked in the back entrance of the hotel. Rowan was a couple of steps ahead, and he held the door open for them like a gentleman, even though he was a grump. Inside, her feet practically sank into the plush blue carpet, but she barely had time to admire the tasteful art adorning the walls as Lys and Elide led them up to their rooms.

In Aelin’s room, a small army of stylists had already set up shop, and she barely had time to have a proper bath before being whisked into a chair. Elide ran through her whole list of instructions for what to expect at the event as Aelin’s makeup artist and hair stylist worked their magic, transforming her from travel-tired to glowing. The puffiness under her eyes vanished beneath a layer of expertly applied concealer, and a sharp wing of black eyeliner flicked out from the corner of each eye.

“You’re a wonder, Rin.” Aelin checked her reflection in the mirror. “I’ll never know how you do this kind of magic.”

“It’s called makeup,” Asterin Blackbeak laughed. She’d been Aelin’s makeup artist for just over a year, and she was magical with an eyeshadow palette.

“Ruin my fun, why don’t you?” Aelin winked at Asterin. She got up from the chair and went over to get dressed, returning once her form-fitting red silk gown was laced up her back, the slit up one leg allowing her freedom to move in the fitted skirts. Her stylist took the wide rollers out of her hair, letting it tumble down her back in a spill of glamorous waves.

“You guys are the best,” she gushed to her team, blowing them air kisses so Asterin didn’t scream at her for messing up her makeup.

Elide tapped one stiletto heel on the floor. “We’ve got to go, Ae.”

With a final wave to her team, Aelin followed Elide out the door and down the hallway to the elevator. They rode down to the lobby, and the steel doors smoothly opened to reveal the usual handful of paparazzi that followed anywhere the Queen of Action Movies went. Aelin smothered a grimace and ducked her lead like she’d been trained to do, dodging as many camera flashes as possible as Elide led her towards the private side door. She caught a relieved breath as they exited.

“You’re late,” Rowan muttered as she climbed into the car, its windows darkly tinted for privacy. “According to the schedule, we should have left ten minutes ago.”

She shot him a glare. “One of the things you need to understand about providing security for a film actress, Rowan, is that we rarely keep to a predetermined schedule.”

“Too busy taking fucking pictures,” he grumbled.

“Too busy avoiding cameras, not that you would know.” She yanked the door shut, silently fuming at the audacity of that man. It was hard to tell if he didn’t have previous experience with celebrities, or if he was just an ass.

It was too bad his ridiculous attractiveness didn’t match his behavior, because if it did, Mala knows the things she’d do to him.

The screening of the trailer and the endless stream of red carpet photos went by in a blur of camera flashes and a pasted-on smile, and by the time she had a minute to breathe, Aelin was walking into Rita’s, a club that she and many of her actor peers liked, arm in arm with Dorian. They entered through a side door, a private entrance that led directly into the lounge space, allowing them to avoid most of the greedy paparazzi.

Inside, the floor was already full of people in their best “Queen of Glass”-inspired costumes, with the only exception the black-clad security personnel who stood at intervals around the perimeter of the lounge. Aelin herself wore a dress inspired by one of her costumes from the first season of the show—a form-fitting black minidress with a dragon embroidered in gold thread climbing up the back, its jaw opened wide and its tail curling around one hip. She wore gold jewelry to complement the dress, and her lipstick was flame red and smudge-proof.

“Looking stunning as always,” Dorian said, appearing out of nowhere with a drink in each hand. He wore a white shirt with cobalt-blue embroidery and black leather pants, the shirt open to reveal half his chest, and a fake knife was tucked into his belt.

She grinned at him. “Thanks, Dor.” Accepting one of the drinks, she took a sip. “Shit, that’s delicious!”

“Fenrys is bartending.”

“Makes sense.” She winked at him. “So you’ll be spending as much time as possible at the bar, right?”

“Shut up.” His face flushed pink, and he elbowed her in the side.

She laughed, poking him affectionately in the ribs. “You know I won’t tell a soul about your little crush on the bartender.”

“Two hours.” Rowan’s curt voice cut through Aelin’s good mood.

She scoffed. “Lighten up, Whitethorn. Rita’s is secure, as you can tell from the guards everywhere, and I’m not some teenager who snuck out of Mommy and Daddy’s house. I’ll let you know when I want to leave.”

He scowled, and she silently cursed her panties for dampening at the sight. “You can’t be hungover at tomorrow’s events, Aelin.” He glanced at Dorian, who had a drink in each hand. “Neither of you can.”

“Good thing I don’t plan on drinking more than this, then.” She tugged Dorian into the crowd, leaving Rowan behind.

That tight-strung asshole was going to ruin her fucking life.

Sensing her grouchiness, Dorian tugged her towards the side of the room. “Want to go do the photo booth?” He gave her his best big puppy eyes. “Lys and Elide said we should, but also, it would be fun.”

“Why are you right?” she sighed, shaking the tension from her limbs. “I’m sorry, Dor, talking to that asshat is taking all of my patience.”

“Too bad he’s so damn hot,” Dorian added, wiggling his eyebrows.

She rolled her eyes. “I would’ve climbed him like a tree until he opened that stupid mouth of his and started poking his nose in my schedule.”

He’s been part of the team for less than a day. What did he know about Aelin’s drinking and partying habits? Or Dorian’s, for that matter.

“Fair.” He led her through the crowd, stopping every other minute to talk to some of the guests, that brilliant smile of his flashing as he posed for casual photos. She grinned right along with him, throwing herself into the joy that meeting her fans always brought her, and they eventually joined the line for the photo booth.

Rowan cleared his throat beside them, and there went Aelin’s blood pressure again. He folded his arms across his chest, glaring at her and Dorian. “You two decided it’s a good idea to go inside an unrestricted booth where I can’t see you?”

“It’s only closed off by a curtain, and it’s inside a secure location. Plus, your guard dogs probably sniffed it down already.” She glared back at him.

He refused to move. “It’s not approved, princess.”

“Oh, for the gods’ sake.” Dorian brushed past Rowan, tugging Aelin with him into the photo booth. “It’ll take a minute, and you can stand outside with your stopwatch if it makes you less angsty.” He winked at the stoic, brooding man and pulled the curtain shut.

Aelin huffed as she sat down on the small plastic bench. “Thanks. I don’t know why he’s being so ridiculous; I’ve only known him for eight hours.” She watched as Dorian tapped on the screen opposite them, picking a random handful of poses, and laughed when he flopped down next to her and threw his arm around her shoulders. “What happened to platonic co-stars?”

He snickered, grinning big at the camera as it flashed. “Hey, we’ve got to make it look good for all the big bad cameras, right?”

“Damn right!” She jumped into his lap, giggling, as the camera flashed a second time, and they scrambled into two more poses, a tangle of hilarity, until the camera counted down for the last time and he took her face in his hands and plopped a dramatic kiss on her lips as the bright flash exploded in the small booth.

Dorian positioned his hands just the way she liked it, without covering her face for the camera. Knowing how messy things could get off-set, it relieved her that he was thinking about how the kissing picture would look rather than the picture itself. Aelin would be lying if she said every stage kiss with Dorian had been this mechanic, but the short-lived crush she had on him at the initial stages of their first movie together quickly faded away when she realized she was into the character, not the actor.

And this? Right now, kissing Dorian was work, one piece of the narrative that belongs to Aelin’s favorite and longest-lasting character—her public persona.

Of course, Rowan chose that moment to shove his head through the curtain.

“Time’s—ah, fuck.” He jerked backwards as suddenly as he’d broken into the booth and awkwardly cleared his throat. “Uh, time’s up.”

“I think that’s the most un-grumpy I’ve seen him so far,” Dorian whispered into Aelin’s ear, making her snort a laugh and smack him in the shoulder as she collected the two printed photo strips.

“You’re a little shit,” she chuckled. She pushed aside the curtain and stepped out of the booth, immediately sidling up to Rowan’s side with a wide, innocent smile on her face. “Sorry to scandalize you, big guy.”

He mumbled something inaudible under his breath. “I’ve seen worse, princess.”

Aelin turned to leave, but she didn’t sense him following her, so something critical must’ve happened. She half-turned, raising an eyebrow at his parted lips and a look so intense it inflamed her skin with his poorly-concealed irritation. “Something the matter?”

“What are you wearing?” For the first time that night, he got a proper look at her dress in all its glory, and of course it wasn’t of his liking.

Aelin spinned like an overly excited girl about her dress just to annoy him. “One of my favorite designers made it—do you know the label Maison Sellene? She’s incredible, and she got the dragon design from one of the set designers’ sketches.”

Rowan’s eyes burned like dragonfire. “It suits you, princess.”

Her nose wrinkled. “Stop calling me that. I told you, my team is on a first-name basis with each other.”

“Fine, Aelin.” Oh gods, his pronunciation of her name made her shiver. Dorian came back with drinks, and of course he glared at the one she took. “I thought you weren’t drinking?”

Locking her eyes on his, she took a long sip of it. “It’s nonalcoholic.” He looked skeptical, so she pushed the glass to his lips. “If you don’t believe me, Rowan, try it for yourself.”

He accepted the drink as if she had poisoned it before handing it to him, sniffed it and squinted his eyes at her, trying to decide if the juice and soda water smell was real or just a deceit for his nose. “Fine,” Rowan said as he handed it back to her, the short word sounding awfully close to a grunt.

She huffed an impatient sigh and once again turned to leave, heading towards the cluster of women gesturing wildly for her to come dance with them. But she’d barely gone more than a few steps when Dorian hooked his arm through hers and pulled her to the dance floor with him, and she laughed as she looped her arms around his neck. “Are you trying to give Lys high blood pressure?”

“I would never,” he snickered, winking widely. “Just thought this would be fun.”

“We’ll see how you feel about that when someone posts a photo of us dancing this close on their Instagram story and the whole internet goes insane.”

“My kind of fun.” He dipped her backwards, and when he pulled her up, both of them giggling, he swept her into his and planted a stage kiss on her lips.

Just in time for multiple phone cameras to click.

She chuckled and pushed him away playfully. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom, ok? It’ll only take me a few minutes.” She wove her way across the room, only stopping a few times to chat with people, and she sighed with relief when she noticed that there wasn’t a line outside the ladies’ bathroom.

Once again, an arm banded around her waist.

This time, though, that arm hauled her to the side, and the door of the janitor’s closet slammed shut behind Aelin as the man all but yanked her into the small, empty, slightly dusty space.

She was firing Rowan so hard today.

Aelin slapped his hand out of her mouth and spun around before he could react, quickly hitting his groin with her knee. The man groaned, and she used the little time she had to grab a spray bottle—for temporary blindness if necessary—and turn on the feeble light to see who her assaulter was.

Imagine Aelin’s surprise when she found out that her attacker was Mr. Safety himself.

Still bent due to the damage to his crotch, Rowan wheezed. “Where did you learn these moves, princess?”

Arms folded across her chest, she shot him a glare. “What the hell, Whitethorn? You almost gave me a heart attack! What’re you doing?!”

Rowan’s hand curled loosely in front of his groin, as if anticipating another blow. “I got an alert that there’s an unauthorized person in the room, and my first priority is keeping you safe from potential threats.”

“What about Dorian?” She snapped. “Is he in less danger than me because he’s a man or something?”

Her bodyguard opened his mouth to retort, then closed it. “He…has his own security team…”

Aelin raised a brow. “And you’re in contact with his team? Keeping track of him? Because there’s a potential threat, or so you say.” Every single word was deeply sarcastic.

“Of course.” Rowan pulled his phone out of his pocket and showed her the screen. Several notifications were stacked up on the screen, notifications of a potential unauthorized guest in the room and brief updates about Aelin’s and Dorian’s safety.

Some of her irritation faded away. “Fine. You might have given me at least a tiny bit of warning before you grabbed me, though.”

His jaw clenched. “There’s not always going to be time for me to warn you, princess. The least you could do is understand that.”

The maleness of that statement, the entitlement of his tone brought her irritation right back. “Remind me again who is employing whom? Your responsibility is my safety, as you’ve said a thousand times. Well, that includes you giving me notice so I don’t think I’m being fucking kidnapped!” Her voice cracked on the final word.

And damn him, he noticed the crack in her demeanor.

His stance relaxed, and concern crossed his face. “Did that happen before, Aelin?”

Aelin’s throat felt too tight as she swallowed scattered flashbacks from a lifetime ago. As always, she forced them all back into their locked box.

“Didn’t you read my file, Whitethorn?” Aelin knew she was being harsh, but it was a necessary measure. “You should know the answer already.”

Both of them knew that file back to back, and she knew his question went beyond that. Rowan gave her a wary look, reading her deflection far too well, but the last thing she needed was his overprotective ass deciding she was fragile.

His phone pinged, saving her from any response he might have made. He glanced at the screen and sighed softly. “There wasn’t a threat, just someone who forgot their invitation. You can go back out.”

“About time,” she mumbled. Before he could say anything, do anything else, she pushed open the door and went back to the party, her heels snapping angrily on the floor. He stayed a good distance behind her, trailing her back to the party, and faded into the edge of the crowd, but she felt his eyes on her.

She shook off the weight of his gaze, plastering a gleaming smile back onto her face. She was Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, the Queen of Action Movies.

She wouldn’t let her bodyguard distract her.

~~~

TAGS: lmk if you want to be added or removed! maria and i are combining taglists for this fic so you can let her know too :)

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius