His lips curl into that infuriating half-smile. "Strange. You seemed perfectly capable of tolerating my presence during yesterday's council meeting, our sparring session, and our evening meal. Is it the morning light that makes me more intolerable?"
Heat rushes to my cheeks, but I refuse to look away. "The council meeting was a political necessity. This breakfast is torture by choice."
"How refreshing," he remarks, taking a deliberate bite. "Most of the court only speaks such candid truths behind my back."
I open my mouth to deliver a scathing retort when a familiar scent teases my nostrils—jasmine and something wilder, more ancient. My stomach drops. Ivy is near, and from the sudden alertness in Malakai's posture, his shadows coiling more tightly, he senses something too.
A shimmer of silver light dances at the edge of my vision, just behind Malakai's shoulder. My fingers tighten around my fork.
Not now, Ivy. Please, not now.
"Something wrong?" Malakai asks, his shadows coiling more densely. "You've gone rather pale. And your scent just spiked with anxiety."
I force a smile. "Nothing at all. Just...contemplating the many ways I might poison your food without detection."
His laugh is genuine, startling in its warmth. "Points for honesty, though I should remind you of our fated mate bond. My death would hardly be comfortable for you."
"Some discomforts are worth enduring," I counter, trying to ignore Ivy, who has materialized more fully behind him, making obscene gestures that would scandalize even the most libertine courtier.
My eyes widen in horror as she begins a silent but graphic pantomime involving Malakai's shadows and what appears to be an extremely acrobatic position involving his knot. I choke on my tea.
"Something amusing?" Malakai's eyes narrow, his head beginning to turn.
"Headache," I blurt, pressing my fingertips to my temple. "A sudden, splitting headache."
Ivy freezes mid-gesture, then pouts dramatically.
Malakai studies me, suspicion evident in his expression. "A headache? How convenient. And here I thought perhaps you were seeing ghosts." His shadows stretch toward the space where Ivy hovers, but she darts higher, staying just out of their reach.
"Not ghosts," I say, rising from my chair. "Just the constant, pounding reminder that I'm bound to a monster."
Something flickers in his eyes—a momentary glimpse of hurt that he quickly masks behind familiar mockery.
"I need to lie down," I continue. "Unless you'd prefer I vomit across the breakfast table? I'm finding the smell of blood rather...provocative this morning."
The word choice is deliberate—provocative carrying implications in Omegaverse society. Malakai's eyes darken slightly, his scent shifting with interest before he catches himself.
Malakai rises with liquid grace, coming around the table. I brace myself, but he keeps a careful distance.
"Allow me to escort you to our chambers, then. We wouldn't want you collapsing in a corridor where just anyone might find you."
We walk side by side, but not touching. The fated mate bond pulses despite the physical distance.
"Your concern is overwhelming," I say dryly.
"Anything for my beloved mate." His smile is as sharp as glass. "Though I wonder…is it truly a headache, or merely an excuse to escape my company?"
"If I wanted to escape your company," I reply, "I would need a far more elaborate plan than feigning illness."
"Such as?"
"Elaboration requires planning. Planning requires privacy. Privacy is something you've denied me."
We walk in silence through the palace corridors. Perhaps seeking to defuse the tension, or maybe from genuine curiosity, he says suddenly, "Tell me about your childhood."
The request catches me off guard. "Why would you care about that?"
He shrugs. "Consider it an attempt at conventional marital conversation. Unless you prefer our usual discourse of threats and violence?"
