"You are quite beautiful, for a human," Malachar murmured as he lowered his head, his lips finding her nipple, already peaked from the cold rather than desire. His tongue traced patterns of ice across her breast, each touch leaving trails of numbness in its wake. His hand moved lower, the fabric of her shift crumbling away beneath his touch. She tried to twist away, but her body refused to move and a strangled cry escaped her when his hands gripped her hips. "Do you know, I’ve been wondering since dinner what you taste—"
The temperature plummeted so fast the windows cracked.
Black frost raced across the walls, not winter frost—this was darker, older, carrying the scent of deep forest and rotting leaves. The open doorway filled with absolute darkness, not shadow but the absence of light itself.
Eliam stepped through, or perhaps he was always there and only now chose to be seen.
He looked wrong. Too tall. Too dark. Antlers that weren't quite there crowning his head. His eyes burned with green fire and the pleasant mask he wore at court was gone, revealing something ancient and terrible beneath.
“Malachar.”
A single word. It wasn't loud, but it made the walls groan and the floor buckle slightly.
The Winter Lord straightened slowly, his hands still gripping Briar’s hips. But for the first time since he'd entered her room, she saw fear flicker in his eyes.
"Eliam." Malachar's voice was perfectly pleasant. "Your pet was just showing me some remarkable… hospitality. Opened her door wearing this lovely ensemble, practically pulled me inside. Quite eager, actually."
Briar nearly cried out at the implication. No. No, he couldn't believe that.
Eliam's gaze moved to her for the first time, taking in her position on the floor, the frost burns, the torn robe, the tattered nightgown. His expression revealed nothing.
"Is that so?" His tone was dangerously soft.
Her heart hammered against her ribs. She'd seen him like this before, knew all too well the terrifying calm that preceded violence. But who would receive it? She'd been punished for less. For allowing situations to develop. For being where she shouldn't be. Ignorance was no excuse, wasn’t that what he’d said?
"Ah, yes, so very eager," Malachar continued, fingers stroking her frosted skin. "Practically begged me tostay. "
"Did she?" Eliam moved further into the room, each step deliberate.
Once again Briar tried to speak, to deny it, but her throat was frozen with terror. Would he even believe her? Or would this become another lesson about consequences, about allowing situations that could be misinterpreted?
"Though when I suggested you would be upset, she seemed to think little of it," Malachar added, attempting to stand. "Humans are so fickle."
"Indeed they are." Eliam's gaze hadn't left her, and she couldn't read it. The coldness there could be for her as easily as for Malachar. "Tell me, Malachar. This eager, willing participant…why is she on the floor?"
"She fell when—"
Eliam moved.
Faster than thought, he crossed the room. His hand closed around Malachar's throat, lifting him off the ground with impossible strength.
"You. Touched. What's. Mine."
Each word punctuated by tightening fingers. Malachar clawed at the grip, frost spreading up Eliam's arm, but the Forest King didn't even flinch.
"Just... testing..." Malachar wheezed. "No harm—"
"No harm?" Eliam's free hand gestured at Briar, crumpled on the floor, frost painting her skin in winter's claim. "You put your winter's mark on what bears my thorns. Youstruckwhat I've claimed. You dared—"
He threw Malachar across the room. The Winter Lord hit the wall hard enough to crack stone, sliding down with significantly less grace than before.
"Border... rights..." Malachar gasped. "Can't kill... another Great Lord... for visiting..."
"Visiting?" Eliam stalked forward, and shadows writhed around him like living things. "Is that what we're calling breaking into private chambers? Assault?"
"Prove it." Malachar struggled to his feet, one hand pressed to his throat. "Her word... against mine. Who will believe… a human over fae?"
Eliam went very still.
