Chapter 50
Abraxas’ voice pulled Mal’s thoughts out of his daydream. Though it was less of a daydream and more the image of Maeve’s helpless body as he conquered her the night before.
“You named her your second,” said Abraxas. “Not your betrothed. We were foolish to think Maeve wouldn’t be sought after. She is one of the only remaining Purebloods unwed-”
Mal held up his hand. And then placed it on his temple. Rain pattered against the slanted windows in his penthouse suite.
Abraxas took a moment, then pulled a cigar from his coat pocket and used the tips of his fingers to light it. He drew in a large pull and took his time exhaling. He looked out over the city below. Mal’s penthouse sat high. “You are the Prince of Darkness. Not King of the Seven Realms. Everything else continues to turn, despite our plans to return home.”
“I cannot see her married off to some Elven Lord,” he said tensely.
“Then make her yours, Mal,” pressed Abraxas. “There is little else to be said.”
“It is not that simple,” retorted Mal. He relaxed back into his study chair, his legs crossed.
“How?”
“Because your cousin does not desire such a thing,” he said quietly. “She is validated as my second. She doesn’t want the title of wife. It cheapens her as a warrior. She wants the respect that comes with being my Dread Viper. Not my Lady.”
Abraxas sighed. “Then the pair of you will have to accept the reality that while all of that is true, The Mavrosi and Lithandrian seem to think she can be your Dread Viper and reproduce Magical heirs with their men all in a days’ work.”
Mal’s eyes slid to Abraxas.
“Only the messenger,” said Abraxas. “But as your messenger, let me also say: Maeve is not the only one being vied for.”
Mal’s brows rose.
“The Walthon’s have suggested their daughter to you.”
Mal almost grimaced. “She’s a child.”
“They are willing to wait. And provide a gracious donation to the crown.”
Mal opened his mouth to speak-but came up short.
“And,” said Abraxas. “The St. Beverauxs.”
“Ophelia?” Asked Mal.
Abraxas nodded.
Mal sighed.
“Again.” Said Abraxas, taking another puff of his cigar, “we clearly didn’t calculate for this.”
“Clearly,” said Mal. “Isn’t that your job?”
Abraxas didn’t look at him. “I would urge we not decline them just yet.”
“I believe I am in agreement but may I ask why?”
“Because,” started Abraxas. “We need their support. We can’t isolate any families right now. Which is what I told Maeve when she refused to escort Xander out.”
It had been Abraxas’ persuasion. For his benefit.
Mal nodded after a moment.
“I’ll simply prolong any talk of a decision,” said Abraxas. “However-”
