Page 183 of Blood of the Fairest

Why else would he have those dark horns arching back from his head? Those massive wings covered in black, red-tipped feathers folded behind his back?

I immediately stumble out of my vanity chair, backing against the wall to try to get away from⁠—

"Malivant," I exhale in disbelief, heart pounding painfully against my ribs.

I glimpse fangs when he speaks. "Use my name sparingly, mortal."

He's…not what I expected.

His complexion is a smoky, slate grey. In some ways I can tell he's not human at all, like the pointed ears, wings, horns, fangs—not to mention, I'm pretty sure his pupils are slitted, like a cat's. Although it's hard to tell for sure, since his irises are such a deep amber that…

Wait. Amber eyes.

That dark hair falling slightly over his brow. That sharp jaw.

My mouth falls open. "Oh, my god. I danced with you yesterday."

"Not well. You're abysmal at following a lead," the faerie scoffs, glancing around the room as if he's far from impressed.

When his gaze lands on the sex-mussed bed, I swear his cat-like pupils grow wider, but his nose wrinkles in disdain.

"I see you're becoming more like the real Reinhilde the longer you're in this world. You've certainly adopted her only hobby."

Anger at the comparison flares inside my veins, hot and sharp. What Eris and I shared last night is nothing like that nasty bitch's sex obsession with anyone she could rope into her unwilling Favored.

Eris is pissed off, too, glowering out of the mirror.

"So this is what the great Faerie of Wrath does when he's no longer captive? He sneaks into parties he's not invited to stir up contention and wrath for his own cheap amusement? How dare you invade Verena's privacy like this, you repulsive fucking⁠—"

Malivant's gaze flicks to the vanity mirror. Eris cries out, bracing his hands against the glass in obvious agony.

Seeing my lonely Adonis in pain, my heart twists furiously.

"Stop!" I snap, grabbing the nearest object and throwing it at Wrath personified.

It turns out to be a comb, and it bounces off the wall embarrassingly far from the faerie.

When Malivant blinks at the fallen comb, it interrupts whatever he was doing to torment Eris.

Eris takes a shuddering breath, still grimacing.

"Are you all right?" I ask him quickly, not wanting him to be in pain ever again in that place where no one can help him.

He nods, but his jaw is still clenched as he glowers at the intruder. I glower at him, too, anger still burning hot in my chest.

Malivant looks back at me finally, his dark voice laced with disbelief and warning.

"You just threw a comb at a faerie."

"I was all out of grenades."

"You have dreadful survival instincts," he huffs. His wings fan open slightly before folding into two arches behind him again. "Be glad your fierce anger is respectable, or I might've decided to kill you just now."

Asshole.

I know I should bite my tongue and not mouth off to someone who curses kingdoms and fills helmets with blood, but I seriously fucking hate this guy. My temper is already on edge thanks to this goddamn thirst that never ends.

"At least it would get me out of this conversation," I snark, folding my arms over this thin underdress. "Why didn't I recognize your voice yesterday?"