Malachi, for his part, remained where he’d first planted himself, a king who’d be summoned or yanked around by nothing and no one. “State what you’ve come to say,” Malachi commanded Rishaud. “Kadeesha and I were in the middle of something.” He brushed fingers along the column of her neck, pausing just below her Marking and rubbing the pad of his thumb across the visible brand he’d left on the woman whom Rishaud had in part come for. Kadeesha didn’t need to fake the automatic shiverelicited by Malachi touching the sensitive spot or the way her body involuntarily leaned into his.
Rishaud’s eyes landed on the Marking and lit with rage, the mask of civility dropping. “You’ve let him desecrate you? You belong to me!”
“I disagree,” Malachi said slyly. “You left the Aether princess behind on the altar, and I claimed her in myriad ways. I believe that means your kingmaker belongs to me now.”
“You forsake divine will,” Rishaud spat at Kadeesha. “The Celestials—”
“Know that I’vedesecratedyour prophesied bride quite well. She certainly has called upon them enough times during her stay at my court and at a pitch that I think it’d be impossible not to hear.”
Kadeesha felt the exact moment that the air shifted and became charged with the violence that Rishaud, for some murky reason, was holding back unleashing. Malachi must’ve felt it too because he saturated the space around them with his power in warning. Becoming a being of pure dominance, shadows poured out of his very skin and swirled around him like fierce winds.
“I did not come to do battle. I’ve come to negotiate terms to avoid a war that would be an unfortunate loss of many fae lives,” Rishaud declared, his voice carrying, instead of escalating things further.
Kadeesha scoffed. “You didn’t care about avoiding such loss at my wedding.”
Rishaud cut a scathing look her way. Her ex-betrothed’s licentious gaze swept over her, making her skin crawl. Lust and fury and the same violent promise to break her, brutally so, that he’d delivered on the altar smoldered in Rishaud’s eyes. Her own temper flared. She wanted badly to carve out both of hiseyes for looking at her as he did—like he still owned her. Like he, or anyone else, actually could break her. She let the scalding rage rise closer to the surface and responded to Rishaud’s attempt to intimidate with an uncowed smile that was all teeth and issued a return promise to the Hyperion king:I look forward to demonstrating how mistaken you are, a display that will start and end in blood.
“You incorrectly speak, beloved,” Rishaud said, his deep, honeyed voice like blades hacking away at her. “It wasourwedding. And you left me little choice. Your disrespect warranted a punishment that fit the crime,wife.”
“She isn’t your wife. Or your fucking beloved,” Malachi snarled before Kadeesha could martial her own response. Malachi splayed a hand against the nape of her neck. His fingers curled into her flesh, another possessive brand. “In fact, don’t call her any fucking thing; don’t even speak to her. Kadeesha is mine.”
Rishaud’s infamous wrath swirled in his molten stare. “She is not yours to claim. She was never meant for you. She was promised to me. The great Celestials made her for me. And she stood beside me on an altar before the watching eyes of the Celestials. That makes Kadeesha mywifein every way save a vow exchange. You’ve taken that which is not yours, and you will return it to me, or I will annihilate your lands, starting with this very city,” he spat to Malachi. Then, he unsheathed the great sword at his hip and leveled it on Kadeesha. “You have a fortnight to surrender my wife, my property, to me along with your life. When I come for both, yield, or I’ll wipe the existence of the Apollyonfolk from this realm and burn the whole of your lands until there is nothing left besides scorched ruins.”
“Or I can kill you where you stand!” Malachi bellowed. Almost faster than Kadeesha could track, the shadows limning Malachi shot forward, shaping themselves into a pair of voidscimitars that hurtled through the air with deadly precision, the lethal edges perfectly aligned with Rishaud’s neck. Except, they didn’t connect with a solid body. The swords never met anything corporeal. They glided only through air when Malachi’s scimitars sliced through Rishaud’s neck.
“It’s a fucking projection rune!” Malachi cursed savagely. “You coward!” he shouted. “Were you too afraid to turn up in person? You should be!”
Rishaud chortled. “I am afraid of nothing and no one. I merely have other affairs to attend, which take priority. Such as arranging a demonstration for the ruin that will befall your folk and your lands if you do not meet my demands for peace.”
“Stop using the wordpeace,” Malachi hissed,“when you mean our total subjugation!”
“I am here to negotiate peace.My peace,” Rishaud replied, reverting to a level tone that belied the threats he’d just made. “And to help you and the Apollyonfolk see that accepting my terms is the only way, I’ve arranged a taste of what war looks like with me, pup.”
As soon as Rishaud said it, a series of rapid booms reverberated one after another in the distance. Kadeesha had counted four when they ceased. Then, in the eastern skies, right above where the city proper lay, an enormous gold sphere appeared low in the sky. It exploded outward, spraying golden sunfire across the sky. The dozens of shimmering streaks shot upward, then dramatically curved downward. Each glowing streak of sunfire raced toward the city below. A scream of horror stuck in Kadeesha’s throat as she beheld what was happening and it dawned on her just what Rishaud had done.
“You monster,” she whispered, while Malachi’s roar shook the very ground beneath her feet.
Chapter Thirty-Two
MALACHI TELEPORTED THEIR GROUP A FEW YARDSshy of the city’s market square, which the bulk of the golden sunfire rained down upon. Buildings, open-air stalls, the trees and shrubs that lined the streets—everything was ablaze. The smell of burnt flesh tainted the air, the stench so violent and pungent it made Malachi see black. Those were his folks burning, Apollyon lives being snuffed out. In untold numbers.
Of course Rishaud chose this of all days. Because the morning marked exactly a fortnight before the Winter Solstice rite. It was a significant celebration among Malachi’s court, and today was the day in which folks customarily flocked to the market in droves, buying sweets and decorations and other baubles for the weeks-long revels that would lead up to the solstice.
They were not celebrating now.
The raging flames of ethereal gold—a color no fire born of a natural source would be—were spreading like wildfire, a tidal wave of destruction that was already racing in the direction of the residential area closest to the market square. That bastardwas sending the message that the Apollyon Court’s pinnacle cityandMalachi’s subjects could easily be touched.
He was sending the message that “peace” would only be on his terms, and by his definition.
“We need a weather rune,” he told Trystin in a voice that sounded like death even to his own ears. Then, he dared ask, “Do you think heavy rains will be enough to douse the fire?”
Trystin gazed at the burning market grimly and answered in a ragged voice, “I hope so.” The fact that his cousin didn’t offer the usual response that was chock-full of arrogance in his skills with runes punctuated the horror they beheld.
“Put everything you’ve got behind it,” Malachi growled. “Afterward, erect a protective barrier around this meadow. We’ll use it as a camp for any survivors. Then, transport yourself and Nychelle back to the palace. Gather whatever supplies we may need for the camp and as many healers as the infirmary can spare.”
“Go with them,” Kadeesha hurriedly told Leisha. “Bring Yashira here. Her skills with herbs may be of help, and bring the rest of the Nkita and our kongamatos. The squadron can help transport those with severe injuries back to the infirmary.”
Malachi heard Leisha respond “I’ll see it done” back to Kadeesha as he started toward the market square to spare what lives he could.
