She was ready for him to pitch her some bullshit or outrightrefuse to answer. However, Malachi freely said, “It wasn’t something I schemed to do beforehand, if that’s what you think. I was inside of you, and every aspect of you is fucking bewitching, and I just had the urge. I couldn’t control it with your pussy gripping my dick like it was, and I didn’t give a shit about restraint under those circumstances when your very scent, the sound of your voice, and the entirety of your being admittedly holds me prisoner when I’m around you. That’s certainly more than it’s wise to admit, but fuck it.”
There weren’t many ways to leave her speechless. Malachi’s frank admission was one of them. What was wrong with her that it also left her turned on?
“Your turn.” His prodding held a clear challenge for her to be just as earnest as he’d had the audacity to be.
“I’ve already answered that,” she responded, hedging.
“No, you informed me why you bit me back, not what drove you toinitiateit a second time,” he said, calling her out.
She could’ve lied. However, she wasn’t a coward and she wasn’t about to let Malachi believe he’d backed her into some kind of corner where she shifted into a scared and demure creature she’d never be. “Your cock hit places so deep, with such a swagger, that after I’d had one taste of you, it was either bite you again or combust. You screw with my senses and twist what I should and shouldn’t feel where you’re concerned. You make me want things,relish things, I know are dangerous, deadly even, given who you are, who I am, and how our time together will end. But none of that mattered a short while ago, and I couldn’t control the urge either.” Neither could she manage to stop herself from revealing more than she’d intended. She also couldn’t halt the urge just then to swipe her thumb along Malachi’s Markings and subsequently do the same with her tongue. Shestopped short of biting him a third time; she wasn’t yet that far gone. Yet, her mouth watered with desire,hunger, and her clit throbbed. When she gazed up at Malachi to see his reaction, his eyes were lightless pools of the darkest brown, virtually as black as the nighttime sky, and a dark, sensual energy sizzled about him. It went straight to her core, magnifying the liquid heat that was already there.
“What will we do about these Markings?” She was proud of herself for somehow managing not to climb on Malachi’s dick while asking the pertinent question.
He shrugged. “While I didn’t plan on them, when Rishaud catches wind of the Markings, it’ll drive him insane. So, their presence further serves our shared purpose.”
For nowwas the unspoken ending to that determination.
“And after we’ve ridden Nimani of Rishaud’s stain?” she asked frankly.
Malachi shrugged. “We’ll deal with the Markings when the need arises. When they become … a greater issue.”
He wasn’t serious. “They’re already a colossal problem.” She pointed out what they both knew, not understanding why he all of a sudden seemed resistant to speaking the truth. It was what it was. Then there was the fact that Malachi was supposed to be selecting a queen. A bolt of scalding jealousy ripped down her spine. It drove her to—with a touch of irrational venom—ask Malachi, “Did you forget you’re in the process of vetting a bride and getting married soon? Tell me, what prospective bride is going to be okay with you basically being Marked as belonging to someone else?” While it might’ve been a bygone custom in the Six Kingdoms, Kadeesha was well aware of the full extent of what Markings signified existed between a couple and what they informed the rest of the world of.
Malachi’s face pinched in consternation, as it always did when the subject of his impending nuptials came up. His clear dismay dulled the sharpest edges of the abrupt shock of jealousy that had sunk its fangs into her, but she didn’t look too closely at the tempestuous emotions lest she then have to acknowledge something she didn’t wish to. It also didn’t matter; it would change nothing about where she and Malachi would end up—on opposite sides with one of them not walking away alive. Upon thinking of the inevitable future, something in her twisted away from the idea. She mentally shook herself hard and shut down whatever softness might’ve been emerging. That way lay not only her doom, but her kingdom’s further suffering.
It was then that she noticed Malachi gazing at her with one of those intensely probing expressions. She checked her face, made sure it was a mask of stone that gave away nothing. When his lips parted, her heart vexingly raced and she wasn’t certain what he would say. Before any sound came out, he shook his head. Then, his expression shuttered as she’d done with hers. He let her go, threw his legs over the bed, and stood with a fluid grace. “I’ve got important tasks to tend to today, which starts with killing my cousin and hopefully ends with murdering treacherous nobles if Leisha was successful in her affairs last night,” he drawled, instead of responding to any mention of his wedding plans. Kadeesha let out a breath and stood too, taking the cue. She was halfway to where her ripped flying leathers were strewn in the middle of the room when Malachi said, “Stay and rest. I’m sure you’re exhausted.” He threw her a wink that was all male ego.
The mood between them had shifted back to their usual banter, complete with his egotistical and crass remarks. She welcomed it. Treading familiar territory, instead of them lingeringin the strange sphere they’d stumbled into the previous night, soothed the rawest of her nerves about the whole affair. She rolled her eyes, leaning into the casual repartee, then stooped to gather her leathers. “I’m as energized as you are,” she said, pulling on her pants whose buttons were missing and glinting beneath the marble table they’d dined at. “Furthermore, I am not missing the deaths of those who had a hand in trying to kill me and the explosion that placed Samira in an infirmary bed. I want to be present, and if I can’t participate, I at least want a front-row view.” She tossed her top aside because there was no hope for it. Malachi, the ass, had torn it down the middle. She strode back to the bed and grabbed the thick fur blanket from it. She wrapped the fur around her shoulders, clutching it closed at the center. “What?” she snapped at how Malachi eyed her with amusement.
“You, love, are veritably magnificent when you’re blood-thirsty. I like it.” He all-out grinned, and Kadeesha envisioned punching him, even as she recoiled away from his use of the wordloveand how it threatened to make her go molten.
“I am not bloodthirsty,” she said, insulted. “That’s the heinous energyyouoperate with. I simply render rectification to situations that call for it when others force my hand.”
He snorted. “That’s such a queenly, elegant way to sayI murder those who fuck with me, the same as you do, Malachi.”
She pushed her shoulders back at the comparison and didn’t deign to respond to the charge. “I’m assuming you’re spilling all this blood in your pretty throne room decorated with all the lovely flowers, yes?”
Malachi grinned again, though this one wasn’t anything close to mirthful. It was downright terrifying. “Have you ever looked upon blooms that have been splattered with blood? Itis quite poetic. Why do you think so many flowers adorn my throne room in the first place?”
This male. He was seriously insane. Another thing she refused to examine too closely was what it said about her that, as she made her way to her room to change, she was gleeful about the blood Malachi’s throne room would soon be soaked in.The people who will lose their lives deserve it. They almost got Samira killed, she told herself to ease her conscience and prove that Malachi hadn’t been right. She and he werenotsimilar.
Chapter Twenty-Five
THE GOWN MALACHI HAD DELIVERED TO HER ROOMwas another sheer dress. It was woven from a sumptuous fabric that shimmered when the light struck it from the right angle. The garment’s hue was black this time, except for the clusters of dark purple silk flowers that would lie over her breasts and the garland of purple flowers that would circle her waist, draping so it concealed intimate regions between her legs once she put the gown on. It was backless and would cling to her like a second skin if its sleek cut was anything to go by. Its strapless neckline was a deep V that would plunge between her breasts, leaving her Marking exposed for anyone to glimpse. The latter Kadeesha was certain was intentional on Malachi’s part, given his earlier assertion that the Markings further served their shared purpose. A newly assigned lady-in-waiting—a female who’d announced herself as Lady Keeya, daughter of Lord Prime Tareek—had carried it to her room. The female currently still held the gown up for Kadeesha to inspect. She’d also produced a note that she’d handed over to Kadeesha upon entering. The dark blue stationery held Malachi’s bold cursivescript that commanded she wear hisgift. He’d even signed the bottom with his royal seal. How kingly of him.
She thought about sending the sneering lady-in-waitingandthe dress she clutched away with a return message to Malachi that reminded him nothing had changed—he still didn’t really own her now, nor would he ever. But the dresswasgorgeous. It’d been stitched with her favorite flowers—the four-petaled violets of paradise that only bloomed at night under a full moon. It couldn’t have been a coincidence. It was clearly a manipulation to coax her into wearing the revealing dress. Although … how in the hell Malachi had discovered the information, she didn’t know. She didn’t think too hard, either, on why he’d expended the energy at all to find out the detail about her and make use of it in such a manner. There was also the diadem that Lady Keeya held, another supposed gift. It was similar to the crown Malachi wore during formal affairs, a majestic ode to skilled craftsmanship that had precious onyx stones and diamonds inlaid in a glittering silver base. Additionally, there were three large teardrop amethysts clustered in the center. She’d almost swallowed her tongue when she’d first seen the diadem. She knew with certainty that no Apollyon crown had previously been adorned with the gems that were customarily a part of jewelry smithed within the Aether Court. Amethysts—a trio, to be exact—had shone in Kadeesha’s former tiara, in her father’s crown, and in the diadem of every Aether monarch before Sylas. The amethysts resting beside the onyx stones, an emblem of the Apollyon Court, in the crown before Kadeesha were symbolic. That much she knew. However, she didn’t have a cluewhatit symbolized for Malachi, what precise message he meant to send to those who beheld her wear it, or when the hell he’d had a diadem from the Apollyon treasury modified.
Unable to take her mind off her dozens of swirling questions, she bypassed grabbing the gown from Lady Keeya and reached out and touched the beautiful crown with unsteady fingers. The female made a sound of disgust that wormed under Kadeesha’s skin. She cut her eyes at the woman. The distraction caused by Kadeesha’s flare of anger was almost enough to make her miss the faint whiff of Deathbane. While the petals of violets of paradise were relatively innocuous, the flowering plant’s leaves produced toxins that were lethal immediately if ingested, and that killed a bit more slowly—over a handful of hours versus seconds—if they came into prolonged contact with the skin. She knew this because the hauntingly beautiful violets weren’t her favorite bloom by coincidence. Yashira had maintained an entire garden of them, along with growing other various toxic flora, in the Aether Palace. Officially, Sylas permitted her the hobby so he could make use of it for his own needs. Many who’d displeased her father had often died by some manner of ghastly poison. It was yet another reason that Sylas overlooked Yashira using her precious plants for her own purposes too. Yashira’s skills and discretion were too valuable to not have at his beck and call, and she’d taken full advantage of the leniency it afforded her during their entire relationship. Once Yashira learned that Kadeesha had taken a fancy to the violets, she’d started placing ever-fresh bouquets in her rooms. It was a tradition that began when Kadeesha was all of five or six, and Yashira had kept it up right until all hell broke loose at Kadeesha’s wedding. Yashira had always carefully pruned away any leaves or auxiliary buds from the bouquets because of their toxic effects. Plus, she’d made Kadeesha sniff and commit to memory the odors of hundreds of poisons—both commonplace and rare—over the years, insisting it was a matter of necessityand safety given she was the Aether Court’s archprincess and prophesied high queen.
“I’ll hang the gown in the wardrobe until you’re ready to put it on,” her new lady-in-waiting offered a bit too hastily.
“You introduced yourself as Lady Keeya, a daughter of cardinal bloodline Tareek, the daughter of its lord prime to be exact, yes?” Kadeesha asked instead of answering the female’s question. She’d let her squirm at needing to stay in contact with the gown for a longer time.
“I did, Lady Mercier,” Keeya said daintily, her shift in attitude no doubt born of an urgent desire to be rid of the dress.
Kadeesha tightened the belt on the black silk robe she wore and then motioned toward the bed. “You can place the gown there.”
The woman’s face brightened with relief. Another damning mark against her.
