[ um, yeah more content warnings for smut. this is filthy. again, i'm not that experienced at writing it, so sorry if it's bad. and also if you feel the need to get back in the mood, go back and reread the last chapter because it is a continuation

and look at that gif. that tongue! dimitri is such a pathetic whore for rose i love them, and the end of this episode killed me ]

☾

YOU CAN HAVE ME — IF YOU CAN CATCH ME, THAT IS.

[ season 1 — episode 7 ]

The luxurious hotel room was warm as Mischa began to slowly wake up, legs tangling in the sheets and another set of legs. She was awoken by something touching her skin, but it wasn't the sunlight of the Moroi night filtering through the curtains, letting in some of the light. No, it was the feeling of calloused fingers drawing unidentifiable shapes on her back and lips grazing her shoulder.

She could've opened her eyes but instead chose to snuggle closer into his warm chest, acting as if she was still asleep. Dimitri tightened his hold around her, knowing good and well she was awake now but deciding to let her pretend for a little longer to be close to him.

As her mind became more active, less-than-appropriate memories from the night before began to resurface, ensuring that she certainly wouldn't be drifting away again. All she could see behind her closed eyes were flashes of wandering hands, biting lips, and getting lost in a haze of lust-filled desires.

☾

Dimitri's fingers dug almost painfully into her cheeks, keeping her jaw closed and secure as she remained on her knees, skin burning as the carpet rubbed it roughly. She'd never complain though — not that Mischa could with her mouth so full.

"Swallow it," Dimitri ordered, chest heaving as he caught his breath after cumming in her mouth. Then after he saw her throat move from the action, he forced open her mouth to see for himself. And just seeing her staring up at him with wide eyes and her tongue falling past her parted lips had something already stirring up inside of him again — the Dhampir lack of refractory period had never been so useful before.

He moved swiftly and threw Mischa on the bed, watching as she bounced once before propping up on her forearms and eying him hungrily. Dimitri crawled up her body, placing burning, open-mouthed kisses as he went, licking at her skin. Her ankle, her knee, thigh, hip, the underside of her breasts. Then he found her swollen lips and got lost in them, pressing his body up against hers. Mischa arched up off the bed, feeling his once again hardening length rub against her leg.

But then he pulled back, an almost sparkling look of wonder in his eyes as he seemed to think of something. He glanced over his shoulder for only a second before looking down at her body. "I've got an idea."

Mischa simply nodded, not really able to think of any questions as she looked at him. He got back up and walked over to the table where all the tattoo supplies were long forgotten about. Her eyes were glued to his muscular back, eying a few red scratches already on his shoulders that were her doing.

Dimitri turned back around just as she began to admire his ass — it was a great ass — and gave her an eyeful of his cock that she wanted to feel again. She didn't care where — in her hand, her mouth, her. As he came near, it didn't look as if he was holding anything, which confused her as to why he went away from the bed in the first place.

She soon found out the reason, though, as he crawled back to her and kissed her neck. A shot of cold ran through her when he parted his lips and ice touched her skin. "Dimitri!" she squealed, grabbing his arms and squirming underneath him. He pulled back with a boyish smirk, which only parted when he opened his mouth and showed off the ice cube clutched between his teeth.

He dropped the ice cube into his hand, not even flinching at the temperature. "Be a good girl and hold still for me," Dimitri ordered, pinning her to the bed with his lower half.

When he brought the ice cube back to her skin, just at the top of her collarbone, she drew in a sharp breath. Dimitri's heavy-lidded eyes were glued to her body as he began to drag it across her skin, taking in every twitch, squirm, and intake of breath.

The ice was slid slowly to the other side of her collarbone before he brought it down. Dimitri moved it to her right breast, drawing slow circles around her nipple, watching how it hardened and grew red, drops of water sliding down the side and hitting the sheets. As she took in a shaky deep breath, she shut her eyes, the opposing feeling of the freezing ice and her burning skin making her head spin and eyes roll back.

Dimitri moved the ice to her other breast while grabbing the right one, rubbing his thumb over her cold nipple. A series of soft moans left Mischa's lips as she began to writhe underneath him, rubbing her thighs together as well as she could muster. But Dimitri could feel that as he quickly pushed her thighs apart, taking away the friction while leaving the ice sitting untouched on her chest.

"I said to stay still," he said in a hard voice.

"Please," she begged in a pleading tone, desperate for more than the torture with the ice. "Keep going. Please."

Dimitri reached for her face and brushed his thumb across her cheek, loving how she leaned into his touch. "Since you asked so nicely." Then he swooped down and took the half-melted ice off her chest with his mouth, dragging his tongue across her skin as he did.

Then he began kissing down her body, that mix of cold and hot combined with the feel of his lips on her. He licked all the way down, the ice making her a restless mess. Cold kisses trailed across her hip bone, causing her to let out needly sighs and lift her hips, wanting him even lower. Dimitri happily granted her silent request, surging forward to press his mouth to her clit.

Mischa let out a sharp cry, gathering the sheets in her hands as her legs shook, feeling the ice pressed directly to the bundle of nerves. It was better than anything she'd felt so far — and she'd felt a lot in the last half hour. She choked on his name, feeling as Dimitri's tongue moved in a circle, the ice quickly melting while hidden in between them.

He could've made her cum with just his mouth again — Dimitri certainly thought about it as he continued his assault on her clit, letting out a deep groan as Mischa found his hair and pulled on his almost painfully in a way he loved. But as her moans grew louder and her thighs tightened around his head, he gathered she was close to another orgasm and pulled away abruptly before it could hit her.

Mischa's eyes flew open as she looked down at him in shock, wondering why he'd stopped. And Dimitri had the audacity to look almost thrilled at denying her a release when she'd been so, so close. There was a pout on her lips that he just had to kiss away, exploring every inch of her mouth with his tongue, spreading the taste of her.

But suddenly, he let out a curse and pulled away again, looking down at her as if he thought of something painful. He wasn't nearly as amused by stopping this time. "We can't do — fuck!" he sword, pressing his forehead to hers. "I don't have a condom."

There may have been a Dhampir shortage, but they certainly didn't want to try and repopulate the community right then and there.

"Don't worry," Mischa said softly, glad he even thought about it in the first place. There was a strand of his hair that'd fallen on his forehead, which she reached to push back before cupping his cheek. "I'm on a pill." Evidently, an irregular period wasn't as inconvenient as she initially thought. It'd have been actual torture to stop after all they'd already done.

His lips turned up and he muttered, "Thank fucking God," before surging forward to kiss along her neck. "Are you ready for me?" Dimitri asked her, speaking next to her ear and nipping at it with his teeth after the question.

Mischa nodded desperately, wanting to feel him inside of her, to be as close as she could possibly be, because, despite all they'd done, it still wasn't close enough. "Please," she whispered, one hand gripping his shoulder while the other pulled at his hair.

"I'll start slow," he promised, knowing it'd be an adjustment. "This may hurt, Princess." Then he took her hand that was in his hair and brought it to his mouth, kissing her scarred palm. "We can always stop, okay?"

"Okay," she whispered, nodding adoringly at how much he cared about her and what she wanted. She didn't think she'd want to stop, though.

He came back down to place a soft kiss to her lips before aligning himself at her entrance and slowly pushing in. His eyes were glued to her face, watching as her head fell back and eyes closed, letting out a low, "Oh. Ohh."

She could feel her walls stretching to accommodate him, and he'd only stopped just after the tip. Slowly, Dimitri rolled his hips, letting out breathy groans as the tip of his cock slid in and out, getting her used to the sensation. There was more pressure the further he slid in, but he peppered her with kisses and intertwined their hands, giving her something to hold onto as a distraction.

As he reached just past the halfway point, Mischa felt a more intense pain, causing her to inhale sharply and dig her fingernails into his shoulder and the back of his hand, taking in a deep breath. Dimitri slowed his movements even more and kissed her temple.

"I know, but just a little more," Dimitri whispered in her ear. And soon, her little whimper morphed into a moan as the pain gave way to pleasure once more, letting him know he could continue. When the words, "You're so big," tumbled breathlessly from her lips before she bit down on his shoulder, Mischa had no idea how hard he was fighting the urge to fuck her stupid into the damn mattress, against the giant mirror on the bedroom wall, on the bathroom counter. He'd simply have to save all his wishes for another time when he didn't have to be gentle.

Because he wasn't always going to be gentle with her.

Dimitri slid deeper into her until he was all the way in, stretching her fully and filling her to the brim. Mischa let out a choked cry and screwed her eyes shut so that no tears escaped as she held her breath, trying to forget about the stretching pain.

"Look at me, Princess. Are you okay?" he asked, taking the time to cradle her head gently. Mischa managed to peel her eyes open and meet his concerned, wide eyes and she nodded. She felt his thumb rubbing her cheek and leaned into his touch. "You can take it. Just breathe for me." And Mischa did breathe, wanting to do everything he asked of her. "There you go. Just like that."

Finally, Mischa picked her head up to kiss his lips, managing to mutter a soft, "Okay," against his lips. She relaxed around him, and Dimitri began to gently and slowly pull back before sliding all the way back in, creating a delicious sensation deep inside that she'd never fully felt before. Then he did it again and again, and that was all she needed to feel to know she'd never get enough of this.

As he picked up the pace, a cacophony of feelings built up inside of her, a mix of searing pain and complete and total ecstasy. She was being filled for the first time and had never felt so good. His name fell from her lips pleadingly in between kisses that she gave everywhere she could reach — his jaw, his shoulder, his collarbone, his lips, needing him to know how appreciative she was.

And Mischa knew Dimitri felt just as good as he came undone, groaning and grunting in her ear. Half the words he managed to get out weren't even in English as he got lost in the Russian language, unable to distinguish between the two as he continued to thrust into her deeper and deeper. He was moaning — god, to hear that man let out an actual moan. Mischa was sure the sound would play on a loop in her mind for days, knowing she was the one to draw it from him.

"Taking me so well," he grunted, teeth scraping against her collarbone. He pounded harder with each word, having her cry out. "So - fucking - tight."

The second orgasm hit her so suddenly that her vision went out, seeing nothing but a dark haze as it washed over her, body shaking in spasms as he continued to fuck into her roughly. And knowing he wasn't quite there yet, he dared to harshly mutter, "One more," while hooking an arm around her waist to keep her hips off the bed to meet his thrusts.

"One m— I can't," Mischa said, hardly getting a breath in as she shook her head.

But even as she said it, her overly sensitive walls clenched around him, earning a low groan from him. "Wanna try — something," Dimitri said, grunting in between the words. "Just one more. Okay?"

She nodded desperately, gripping his shoulders, even if she wasn't sure what else there could be. "Yes. A - anything for you. I'll d - do anything," she whimpered.

Dimitri groaned and rolled his head back, knowing she was clueless to how much power words like that held. He stopped rocking into her for a moment and pulled completely out, both drawing in sharp breaths as the cold air hit them. She was pulled up to her knees quickly, the blood rushing to her head and making her feel dizzy for a moment. They stared deeply into each other's eyes for a moment before Dimitri turned her in his arms.

Before she could ask what he was doing, she found herself facing the large mirror on the hotel wall. One of Dimitri's arms slid around her waist, pulling her back against him while the other held her left wrist and guided her hand up and into his hair, giving her something to hold onto.

"Look at you, Printsessa, so pretty and fucked out just for me," he groaned in her ear, dark eyes glued to the image of them on their knees in the mirror. Mischa admired her swollen lips, teary eyes, and the marks adorning her chest for only a moment before meeting his gaze through the mirror. Then he placed a gentle kiss above her healing tattoo before he slid into her once more from behind, her mouth falling open as a deep moan tumbled out, and her head dropped back onto his shoulder.

The new angle had her head swimming, her brain feeling fuzzy, unable to comprehend a single thought. All she knew was the feeling of the new position, feeling his cock graze something deeper, something overpowering inside of her. As she continued to pull on his hair like it was a lifeline, he released her wrist and brought his hand down to her core, his fingers finding her clit.

Dimitri hadn't been lying when he said he wanted one more from her. He rubbed quick circles at the nerve ending while using all his strength in each thrust. The added sensation nearly brought her out of her catatonic state, and her free hand wrapped around the wrist, almost as if to stop him even though that was the last thing she wanted. She was so overwhelmed with pleasure that she wasn't sure if she should move backward to meet his thrusts or grind into his hand.

She was an incomprehensible, babbling mess, begging him for anything and everything while at the same time not even knowing what she was asking for. But she got what she wanted as that now-so-familiar feeling was building back up, not just in her stomach but in her chest, her very soul. And when she began to tighten around him, Dimitri let out a low groan, his mouth falling on her tilted neck as he bit down hard.

His entire body stuttered as he reached his peak, the arm around her waist painfully tightly as he kept her still against him as he came inside of her. And even as he was dazed from his euphoric release, he didn't dare forget about her, working his fingers even faster, switching up the direction and keeping his shaft deep inside of her. His other hand found her breast, squeezing and tweaking all he could reach.

She cried out his name louder than she ever had, loud enough to test the soundproofing of the state-of-the-art soundproofing in each Moroi room. As Mischa came for the third time, she fell limp back against him, whispering his name and a string of 'thank you's because that's the only thought she could muster in her foggy mind that only cared about him in that moment.

Dimitri slid a hand around her throat, his thumb reaching and turning her head to the side to face him. He leaned in and placed a truly gentle, closed-mouth kiss to her lips as he pulled out of her completely, earning a shudder from both of them. They collapsed onto the mattress together, him pulling her against his chest as he held her, sharing a series of long, slow kisses that had Mischa whining and chasing for more any time he pulled away.

When Dimitri began to get out of the bed, Mischa let out another whine, still not really letting out comprehensible syllables, but it was clear she didn't want him leaving. She felt like she was floating, and if he left her side, she feared she'd come right back down. Dimitri smiled softly and kissed her forehead. "I'll be right back, Princess."

He moved quickly, heading to the bathroom where he turned on the faucet in the large, porcelain bathtub. Not wanting to leave her alone for long, he fixed a warm washcloth and went back out to her. He adored how her eyes lit back up when she saw him.

As he began to gently wipe up any lingering sweat, spit, and cum off of her, she let out soft, content hums. Though she also let out a whimper when he neared her sensitive, overused pussy. He leaned down to press light kisses to her cheeks, lips, and forehead as he went, all while murmuring in her ear.

"Did so good for me, Printsessa. Took me so well." Warmth coursed through her at his praising words that were easing her back into a normal headspace. "Do you feel okay?"

"Mhmm," she hummed. Her hands were a little jittery as she reached for his hair and pulled herself closer, burying her face in the crook of his neck. Then she nervously asked, "Was I good?"

Because, fuck, it'd been so goddamn good for her.

And Dimitri pulled back a little, needing to look her in the eyes. "So fucking perfect," he assured her, kissing her jaw lightly.

A feeling of relief came over her — that'd been what she was worrying about since the moment she realized maybe she was gaining feelings for the Guardian. That she wasn't experienced enough for him. Then she became a little more aware of the new aches she was feeling — her muscles burned from overuse, her throat was sore when he'd fucked himself into it. A whine left her lips again, this one not out of need.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he murmured, setting the cloth to the side. When she nodded, he swiftly lifted her, letting her wrap her arms tighter around his neck while carrying her to the bathroom where the now-full tub was waiting.

☾

"I know you're awake, Princess," Dimitri murmured lowly in Mischa's ear, growing tired of her sleeping charade. It was hardly believable, anyway, given how she shifted her hips against his thigh on more than one occasion.

His head dipped down and he brushed his lips against the collar of her sweater — his sweater, actually, that she put on after they cleaned up and laid down to actually rest. He found it looked much more appealing hanging off her frame rather than his anyway.

Mischa's eyes finally fluttered open as she looked up at him, taking in a deep breath that was verging on a yawn. She was greeted with a soft, content smile on Dimitri's lips. He looked down at her with the same adoration he had before, and it had something akin to butterflies stirring in her stomach. Perhaps a part of her had been worried he'd wake up full of regrets and declare this a one-time thing.

She didn't know if she'd ever recover from something like that.

But those worries were washed away when he leaned in to kiss her softly, drawing a low, happy hum from her lips. Then Mischa kissed him a few more times on his jaw and cheek before smiling.

"Morning," she greeted quietly, her arms snaking around his neck as he held her even tighter.

"Good morning," he said, voice deeper from a night of sleeping. Then Dimitri moved carefully, reaching for one of her hands that was resting at the base of his neck. He brought it to his line of sight, eying the healing marks.

Moroi healed fast — not quite as fast as Dhampir, but much better than humans. So, after only a few hours, the bruising was nearly faded and the scabs were much better already, bringing him some relief. Her tattoo was already less irritated as well.

"How do these feel?" Dimitri asked, showing concern as he lightly traced the marks with his thumb.

"Better."

He nodded and kissed her palm gently before moving to the inside of her wrist, sending tingles throughout her as he did so. She could feel him smirk against her skin, noticing every little reaction she had to him. "And how does the rest of you feel?"

The word 'sore' was on the tip of her tongue, but it was greatly outweighed by, "Perfect," which she whispered while leaning closer to him. "What are the odds we could stay perfect for a few more hours?"

Dimitri glanced at the covered window, seeing the sunlight peeking through the top gap of the curtains. "I have to do my training exercises," he admitted with a little groan. Guardians never could afford the luxury of lazily sleeping in, but he'd never wanted it more in his life than right this moment.

Mischa frowned, not liking the idea of having to part from him. "Hmm, what if I came with?"

He raised an amused eyebrow, likely picturing the girl that was raised as a princess trying to keep up with all the intense training the Dhampir did. Watching them at school and getting a hit on Jesse Zeklos weren't anywhere near the same as actually taking part in the rigorous exercises they did every day.

She saw the doubtful — and somewhat mocking — expression on his face and smacked his chest playfully. "Okay, obviously, I wouldn't be able to keep up. But I could talk a walk and admire you from afar as you run circles around me."

"That sounds much more realistic," he teased, kissing her forehead. "And I wouldn't run literal circles around you. That's far too cruel."

☾

Dimitri Belikov was a liar because after passing Mischa for the third time on his run through the vast expanse of the grounds, he did run in a circle around her. He couldn't help it when she just looked so damn cute with an annoyed pout on her lips at the sight of him zooming around her, ponytail nearly hitting her face from how quickly she'd turn to try and keep her eyes on him.

"You're a menace," Mischa grumbled, crossing her arms childishly. She'd have hit him with her pink umbrella had she not needed it to keep from burning in the sunlight.

"Funny," he murmured, stopping just in front of her for a moment. Dimitri took a second to carefully look around, making sure there were no nearby onlookers before sneaking an arm around her waist. He spoke right into her ear, feeling her tense underneath his touch. "You didn't seem to think so last night."

"Well," she mumbled, a coat of pink dusting her cheeks, "you weren't being mean then."

"Would you like me to be mean?" he then asked, a flirtatious look in his eyes.

And a part of her was already wondering if maybe she'd like him like that, somehow even more commanding and stern than he had been, less gentle. And thinking back, she knew she liked some of those rougher moments from their night together — pushing her against the wall out of jealousy when she mentioned Adrian, his hand finding her throat to keep her in place when they kissed, every red imprint, bite mark, and scratch that she could feel rubbing her clothes as she walked.

Dimitri could see the sinful gears slowly turning in her mind as she simply stared up at him with that same look of longing from before that led to the first of many kisses. And with her slowly winding back up, he did the meanest thing of all.

Just as Mischa began to lean toward his lips, standing on her toes, he stepped back, taking his hands off her with a smirk. "I don't know that I should make it so easy for you, Princess," he said at seeing her bottom lip jut out. God, he wanted nothing more than to suck on that and draw a moan from her chest. "Perhaps I ought to make you work for it."

She let out a huff of air, feeling like she was being tormented as he continued to take large steps backward, getting further and further away. "Dimitri," she whined, trying to keep up with his long legs, which was essentially impossible. "I want you."

"You can have me — if you can catch me, that is."

With that, Dimitri took off again with his impressive Dhampir speed, leaving Mischa on her own and cursing his name. But she still continued to walk, knowing he would probably only run for ten minutes or so before settling somewhere to wait for her.

Or perhaps ambush her, a thought that she didn't mind.

So, Mischa happily walked the grounds. But even as she took in the absolutely breathtaking scenery, all thoughts were on Dimitri and his own breathtaking appearance. To her, the coastal shore and surrounding rocks and nature paled in comparison.

Though it certainly was a romantically fitting destination to be falling in love — a realization that came to the forefront of her mind even if she hadn't said the words aloud.

As she continued on, she found herself softly humming a familiar song — the one she and Dimitri danced to at the memorial for the St. Jude Guardians. It was the opposite of what she should've been doing. But there was no point in being stealthy when there was no chance of her ever sneaking up on him, or any Dhampir, for that matter.

A curve in the path came up, hiding away everything behind her and everything in front of her. All she could see was a high wall of rocks behind her and the glittering sea, which had a stone half-wall to keep from tumbling down the slope and falling into the water.

It was when she was taking a second to admire the view that he pounced. Dimitri had been amongst the rocks built up, perching effortlessly above the ground while still receiving cover from rocks above and hiding in the shadows it cast, blending in with his loose running pants and sweatshirt, both a dark gray and black color. Mischa didn't notice him, and as soon as her back was turned, he jumped down from the small ledge he'd been on.

Mischa barely heard his sneakers hit the pavement but turned just in time to spot him before he put his arms around her, pulling her against his chest. "Gotcha," he said with a sly smirk, tightening his hold. Then he pushed his hood back off his head, which'd fallen down as he jumped. "It seems I was the one to catch you."

She huffed and pushed against his chest while stepping backward. "Well, it was hardly fair. Even if I wasn't a Moroi, I'm not familiar enough with the territory to know good hiding spots."

"Ah, but I'm not familiar either, Princess," he reminded her, tilting his head while taking a few steps closer again. "Perhaps I've scouted ahead of the area while running earlier, but recon is just basic perimeter control. You've spied on enough Novice lessons to know that."

"Hmm, well it sounds less like perimeter control and more like cheating," she said with a smug smile. Then she glanced over his shoulder, seeing how well-hidden they truly were. "Or maybe you were scouting out secret places to trap me in."

Dimitri raised a taunting eyebrow, acting as if he hadn't noticed how secluded the area was while moving until their chests were touching. Then he grinned and lifted Mischa so suddenly that she let out a squeal. She wrapped her legs around his hips and gripped his shoulders the best she could with an umbrella in one hand as he easily sat her on the stone railing.

His tongue darted out and swept across her lips, but feeling petty after the whole 'you'll have to catch me' bit, she kept her lips sealed stubbornly. She could feel his hands grip her hips even tighter as he let out a frustrated sound, displeased as he looked up at her. Dimitri moved quickly to remedy the situation. One hand found its way to her throat, giving a gentle squeeze — not enough to restrict her airflow, but enough to have her let out an excited gasp.

As soon as her lips parted, his tongue delved inside, exploring every inch it could reach. Mischa kissed back just as passionately, tangling her fingers in his wind-swept hair. As their kiss grew rougher, she pulled him closer by tightening her legs around his waist, rubbing her core against his toned stomach.

Dimitri kept his hand around her throat, using it to angle her head back and to the side so that he had plenty of room as he broke away from her lips and found her jaw. Mischa's eyes were screwed shut and her mouth hung open as she tried her best to hold back a moan, feeling his lips on her skin. Just because they were hard to see didn't mean someone might not overhear them.

So, when he found the junction of her neck and bit down, all she could do was draw in a sharp breath. A moment later, Dimitri ran his tongue in soothing circles over the mark, sucking on it gently. And she could only dig her nails into his shoulder when she felt his hips buck upward and into her, his groin meeting hers, only separated by a few pieces of fabric. Far too many pieces of fabric.

Something told Mischa it wouldn't be very hard at all to convince him to forget the rest of his training exercises and escort her back to her hotel room.

"Oh, Dimit—"

"Mischa?"

Mischa acted quickly and shoved Dimitri with all the strength she could muster and then some — he'd never been moved by a Moroi using the Air element, but it was an odd feeling. He was pushed back into the rocks where he was hidden from sight just as Rose and Lissa came around the corner. All they saw was Mischa sitting on the railing, carefully readjusting her umbrella to keep the sun away.

"Yeah?" Mischa called innocently. It was hard to keep her eyes off Dimitri, whose chest was heaving as he caught his breath while remaining out of sight. "What's up?"

"I need a favor from both of you," Lissa said, gesturing to Rose and her sister.

"She started to explain, but I figured we should hunt you down first," Rose said, not wanting to sit through an explanation twice. "Say, what are you doing so far from the hotel with the sun so high already?"

"Oh, just couldn't sleep," she mumbled, sliding off the wall. She quickly stepped toward them so that they wouldn't come closer and spot the Guardian hiding out of sight. "So, what's this about?"

"Your boyfriend, evidently," Rose couldn't help but teasingly say.

Mischa tensed up, thoughts and worries of them finding out about Dimitri running through her head. Even he tensed, wondering where they were going with this. "Boyfriend?" Mischa asked hesitantly.

"Adrian," Lissa clarified, rolling her eyes with a smile.

The two Moroi didn't pick up on it, but Rose's trained, Dhampir ears caught the almost annoyed scoff that sounded at the mention of Adrian Ivashkov, and she could instantly tell who it belonged to. Rose eyed the area that Mischa came from, fairly sure that a certain Guardian was hiding just out of sight and hoping to not be caught.

Which only made her mind wander because what could they have been doing that was so inappropriate Mischa had to hide him? There was a smirk on Rose's face the entire walk back, knowing she'd be having fun with this later.

But for now, fun had to be temporarily forgotten as Lissa took the girls back to her room at the hotel. When there, she sat them down and explained why Adrian seemed to collect those paintings and why he showed an interest in Lissa, allowing her to be invited to his party.

Adrian Ivashkov was a Spirit User too. He'd proved as much by visiting Lissa in a dream just like it was depicted in the painting Mischa and Lissa saw in his collection. Now, he had some crazy scheme to go and find a Moroi who could give them answers. What kind of answers, well, they didn't know.

And because it was all so unsure, Rose didn't like it, feeling her overprotective nature kick in. "The risk of even one more person knowing, Lissa?"

"Yeah, after he just walks into my dream and makes himself at home? Rose, Adrian Ivashkov and I are in the same boat," she insisted, wanting them both on her side. "I know of three confirmed Spirit Users. Vlad went Dark. I might be losing my mind, and the last one—"

"Is a stone drunk, from what I hear," Rose interjected.

"A self-medicating drunk who drinks to keep the Darkness at bay," she quickly corrected.

"And he's also my friend," Mischa added softly. She supposed it felt nice to have answers as to why Adrian was the way he was. It explained the constant substance abuse, the occasional spacey behavior. She now understood him better because of this and maybe even appreciated him more too.

"He also might have answers, and right now, I need answers more than I need lectures about how scary it is. Because I might end up the same as Adrian if I don't find another way of keeping the Darkness in check," Lissa went on, holding Rose's hand. "And this might be our only shot to figure out this link you and I have."

Rose sighed heavily and looked between the sisters before nodding. "Just what exactly am I signing up for here?"

"That's the part that doesn't suck," Lissa said, smiling. "We have always wanted to see how humans live."

Though a bit of excitement coursed through Rose, she held off. "You're going to need Dimitri as well, you know? And he'd never approve something like this so suddenly. It's not going to happen."

Lissa's shoulders sagged a bit as she thought about it. They couldn't make the same mistake of going outside the wards without a Guardian again. "There has to be a way for me to convince him."

Rose's eyes lit up suddenly as she looked at Mischa, an idea coming to mind. "Maybe not you — Mischa."