THIRTY-SIX
ABADDON
I am deeply unsettledby my consort’s sudden descent into silence.
We had made what felt like a leap forward in her training once she returned from her disappearance. She gave herself to me so freely, and there was joy in her submission. And she gave me her name, for Fates’ sake!
But now?—
Nowwe take steps backward instead of continuing forward! She’s attempting to bend me to her will—a notion that should be laughable.
“Is this about my brothers?” I ask after two endless days without her voice, while we dine together. I’ve grown to treasure hearing her speak—any voice besides mine and Romulus’s echoing through these ancient halls. Her withdrawal feels like a physical ache, returning me to the crushing solitude I thought I’d escaped.
She looks directly at me and nods with deliberate emphasis.
Fury blazes in my chest.
“Don’t be absurd,” I roar. That she would show such obstinacy over mybrothersof all things! “I’ve told you—everything has been attempted with them.”
She rises from the table where we’ve been sharing our meals in the Great Hall. I granted her a chair, deciding she’s nothing like Creator-Father’s submissive consort.
But now her defiance makes me question that choice.
“Sit back down,” I command.
She glares at me with those fierce eyes, and I rise as well, fur bristling with agitation.
For a charged moment, we face each other. If she continues this rebellion, I’ll have no choice but to restrain her again until she yields. The thought makes me grin despite myself. “I dare you to continue.”
She throws her hands skyward and drops back into her chair. She knows my methods well by now.
I’m only slightly disappointed by her surrender.
I return to my bear meat, eating in the oppressive silence that grates against my nerves.
“Speak,” I demand after several more minutes.
She merely raises one eloquent eyebrow and spears a piece of greenery that resembles a tiny, wilted tree, chewing with aggressive determination.
She’s impossibly obstinate. Magnificently, infuriatingly stubborn.
It makes desire coil hot in my belly.
But I must break this defiant streak. “I don’t understand this fixation with my brothers!” I slam the table, making her plate rattle. She catches her goblet just before it topples, shooting me another withering look. She won’t speak, but her face remains beautifully expressive, mostly to convey her displeasure with me, except when I’m bringing her to ecstasy.
Yet I haven’t claimed her again.
Something feels wrong about breeding her while she’s disobedient. Last night, I brought her to the edge of release repeatedly, then withdrew, trying to coax words from her lips.
Even during that exquisite torture, she simply crossed her arms over her chest and denied me her voice.
Eventually, I restrained her arms, but even then, she wouldn’t break. Even when her body trembled with desperate need, when I kept her balanced on that knife’s edge?—
I shake my head. No one possesses her level of stubbornness. Except perhaps my brothers, but theirs stems from madness, not determination.
Of course!
Understanding dawns.
