Nectar of the Wicked (Deadly Divine Book 1), page 13
He stood, and in his absence, I’d almost forgotten his towering height and breath-robbing presence. His hands skimmed the curves of my breasts, one sliding my wet hair over my shoulder.
As the other hand wrapped around my throat.
Looming over me, he gently squeezed my neck and lowered his mouth to mine. “I should punish you for disobeying me.”
I swallowed, unsure if I should be frightened or aroused. For I was an even mixture of both.
His finger pressed upon my screaming pulse. “Especially in front of my people.”
I was tempted to ask what that punishment might entail, but when his lashes lifted with his eyes from my heaving breasts, the darkness within warned against it. Pheromones and his iced energy radiated in a vaporous heat, alluring and deadly.
It was on the tip of my tongue—an apology and a request for him to place that soft mouth on mine—when he dropped to his knees.
And pushed his mouth against my stomach with a low groan.
His heavier scruff tickled, coaxing a panted breath from me when he crouched lower. My thighs were gripped from behind. His fingertips bruised as he dug his nose and mouth into my core.
The sound that left him was animalistic.
I set my hands upon his shoulders, swaying slightly. “Florian...”
“Miss me, sweet creature?”
The desire to ask him where he’d been and why he’d left without warning—especially on what to do with his quiet home and ill-tempered staff—became a burn. But he’d chosen me to wed for a reason. He’d chosen me because I would be grateful enough for what he gave to let him be.
His teeth nipped my mound, and I yelped. He ordered, “Answer me.”
“Yes,” I confessed, then moaned when he kissed where he’d bitten.
His mouth dipped even lower, and after one lazy swipe through my core, he rose and licked his lips. His fingers brushed his mouth, but they failed to hide the pleased tilt when I reached for him and he evaded me.
It seemed this king I’d tied myself to enjoyed a little revenge.
He threw my earlier words back at me. “I’ll see you later, butterfly.” Then he closed the door on his way out.
Once again, Florian did not attend dinner.
I was more relieved than disappointed. For the teasing he’d given me had left a tight coil of painful need, and I wasn’t certain I was above apologizing for my defiance in order to have him remedy it.
I ate quickly, Olin glaring at me as I carried my plate from the dining room and down the hall. But I wasn’t going to the kitchen.
I headed outside, passing the stunned guards patrolling the grounds, and toward the stables.
Henron was still packing up for the evening, his face smudged with dirt and a piece of hay in his mouth. It bobbed with his question. “You’re going to feed the beast quail eggs?”
“And liver,” I said, skirting around him and marching to the rear stalls.
He trailed me with a light laugh. “Do you truly intend to keep the wolf?”
“I intend to let her heal before releasing her back into the woods.”
Henron returned to stacking hay bales as I greeted the cub who’d been sitting with her ears pricked, seemingly waiting for me.
Her rear wiggled as she approached the plate of food I set on the ground. She looked up at me, and at my nod, didn’t hesitate a moment longer before mopping the porcelain clean.
Henron leaned over the stall door, tapping his knuckles on the wood. “She won’t go, you know. Not now that you’ve altered her scent and given her a reason to stay.” He eyed the wolf and scratched his long nose. “And you cannot domesticate a wolf.” His apricot eyes conveyed what he knew I did not wish to hear.
She would need to be given a merciful death.
Florian’s warning about messing with the way of things came back to me. I sighed, knowing he’d been right. I knew then, and I’d done it anyway. Regardless, I protested weakly, “She would have died.”
Henron hummed. “Perhaps because she was supposed to, Princess.”
My nose scrunched at the endearment. Before I could tell him not to call me such a thing, he disappeared, presumably to retire for the night.
Snow looked at me with eager eyes, wanting more to eat.
“In the morning,” I promised and petted her soft head before checking her healing wounds.
Florian was in his rooms when I returned.
Like the rising of the sun minutes before the sky lightened, I could sense it—feel the energy reaching through the cracks in the stone of the manor.
I sat on the bed and stared down at the bedding, wondering if he would come to me while knowing he would not. Knowing that meant I should leave him alone.
It was hard to sleep when he was so close, rendering me lost to all the many reasons as to why he might not be interested in seeing me. Lost to wonderings of what he was doing, if he ever slept or merely lazed around in an arrogant kingly fashion, I kicked off the bedding as an unexpected sweat broke out across my flushing skin.
After breakfast, I was leaving the dining room when I felt the first ripple in my new and perhaps not-so-magical world.
A bellowed curse was followed by a crash.
Florian had a warrior pinned to the wall with his forearm at his throat. The golden vase from the hall table was now in endless pieces on the floor. “You know better than to have heart for those who had none for us. You will go back and fucking take it, understand me? There is no room for a pretty little conscience within this court.”
The male started to protest, then shouted in pain as his cheeks changed from a ruddy red to blue. Ice crawled and crusted over his skin, cracking as Florian spoke. Cracking and peeling and tinkling to the floor with skin and blood.
I didn’t hear what he said. All I heard was the ice hitting the ground with clinks that echoed.
My leftover breakfast—breakfast I’d intended to take to Snow—fell from my clammy and numb fingers to the floor.
I was staring at the remains of the vase, but all I could see was porcelain plates.
All I could hear was Rolina’s voice. If you didn’t exist, then she would be here.
Hands gripped my cheeks.
I flinched and stumbled free of Florian’s hold.
He scowled, long fingers curling into his palms before falling slack at his sides.
The male he’d been furious with was gone. Not even Olin lurked in the hall. I looked at the ground, at the melting blood-tinged ice and broken vase, then to the oats and fruit.
My racing heart sank. “Snow’s food.”
“Snow?” Florian questioned.
“M-my wolf.”
He stared at me for the longest time, as if unsure how to proceed. My chest was too tight. Air came and left me in short bursts.
My heartbeat was a drum I tried to ignore as I lowered to the ground and began to gather the broken porcelain and food.
Softly, Florian ordered, “Leave it be.”
“She’ll only get mad again.”
“Snow?”
Realizing what I’d mumbled, I shook my head and drew in a deep breath. Perhaps the lack of sleep was to blame. My exhale hitched, the ringing in my ears decreasing.
Seemingly done with treading carefully, porcelain cracked beneath Florian’s giant and polished boots as he crouched to the ground before me. He gently captured my hands and plucked and brushed the broken plate and food from them. “Look at me.”
I lifted my eyes to his, and he swiped a tear I hadn’t known had fallen to my cheek. His features lost their severity as he brought his damp thumb to his mouth and sucked. “She did this to you.” It wasn’t a question.
I frowned, about to ask who he spoke of.
He gave me a reproachful look that said not to bother lying. “The woman you were left with as a babe.”
I swallowed and made to stand.
He stopped me with a hand at my chin. His eyes searched mine, and I said, “I’m fine.”
His jaw rocked. “You flinched at my touch.”
I tried to smile. It trembled as I said, “You are quite terrifying, Majesty.”
He scowled again, though I didn’t miss the spark of amusement, or perhaps something else, in his vivid gaze. “Go clean your hands.” Taking my arm, he made me rise with him. “I’ll arrange some proper food for this wolf you’ve stolen from fate.”
“I didn’t steal her,” I protested. “Fate led me to her.”
He brought my hand to his mouth with a lowering of his lashes and an inhale that loosened the stiff set of his shoulders.
Then he strode down the hall and left me forgetting why I’d ever been fearful at all.
I sat in the armchair within my dressing chamber for far longer than intended.
Perhaps it was the size of the room, which was more in line with what I was accustomed to, but I found comfort in the space. In the deep-blue, maroon, ivory, and crimson clothing that glinted and hung from wooden hangers.
I was no longer trapped within the middle lands.
No longer would I need to squeeze into a corner in the hope of going unnoticed to avoid someone’s wrath. But lifelong insecurities and survival instincts were hard to escape, and I’d foolishly believed that crossing a warded veil with this king who wished to make me his wife would magically change everything.
Florian could clothe and shelter me and change my surroundings to suit his plans, but he couldn’t change who I was.
Only I could.
Before I could be called for lunch, I decided to leave my preferred nightwear behind. I donned a dark-blue gown that fell to my feet in shimmering pleats, my coat, and a slim pair of black leather ankle boots.
Then I reached under the bed to the dusty corner that hid the gold coins I’d brought with me. I stared at them and tucked two within my coat pocket.
It was time to continue the hunt for what I needed.
Maybe then the life I’d left behind would not succeed at haunting me.
Florian’s study was one of the first rooms in the hall adjoined to the entry foyer, and it would seem my quiet steps from the stairs weren’t soft enough. He left whomever he’d been in discussion with. “Going somewhere, sweet creature?”
Though I’d been caught, I couldn’t keep from smiling as I turned to him. “To the city.”
He muttered something that sounded like, “Of course you fucking are,” behind his hand. I frowned, but before I could ask why that was a problem, he said, “You cannot leave without a guard.”
“What in the skies would I need a guard for?”
“Because I said so,” he said, looking tempted to strangle something. Hopefully not me. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “And to keep you from finding trouble.”
I scoffed and headed for the doors, although I longed to stay and study every inch of his powerful form wrapped in the fitted uniform of a warrior. “I’m an expert at avoiding that, don’t you worry, Majesty.”
“You’ve mothered a wolf.” His hand seized mine. I squeaked in shock as he tugged me into his chest. He curled some of my untamable hair behind my ear. “You are my betrothed.”
A fluttering erupted in my stomach at the reminder, at the sweltering wonderings of what that might eventually entail. “I am indeed.” I clutched at the rough blue material of his royally decorated jacket.
His fingers traced the curve of my cheek. My eyes closed at the gentle touch. When he reached my chin, he tipped it high, and my eyes opened to deep blue. “You do not go anywhere without me or those I have assigned to escort you.”
I blinked several times. I’d known he would not be impressed by my plan, but I hadn’t realized it would be such an issue. “Surely that is un—”
“Hush.” My brows rose, but I lost my annoyance when his lips squashed mine in an unyielding embrace. He was spearmint and whiskey, a spiced heat that forced my submission. I gladly surrendered, but then he tore away. “You’re a thorn in my ass, butterfly.”
I scowled. He thought I was the thorn?
As though I were wearing my thoughts, he smirked and walked to the stairs. “Just wait until tonight. I’ll take you myself.”
I had half a mind to say no and go without him.
“Leave, and I’ll tie you to my bed to torture you for every minute you made me spend hunting you down.” He paused before reaching the stairs, a look thrown over his shoulder that made my blood dance in my veins. “And sweet, I would love nothing more than to blemish your silken skin with my hands and teeth.”
I stood there in shock, uncertain if I was worried or aroused.
Aroused, I determined as I looked at the doors with an almost unbearable desire to see just how long it would take him to find me.
We didn’t materialize, and I was grateful.
I didn’t want to miss the journey downhill into the city, no matter how dark and cold it had grown. Though it seemed I was not permitted to roam far either.
The king pulled me back with a look that said to wait as he rounded the carriage to talk with the driver.
I looked up at the night sky, the breeze a chilled kiss upon my cheeks. Smoke rose from chimneys toward the stars. The building beside me was slumbering, as were most others in the street.
I was led down an alleyway so narrow, my arms almost brushed the damp stone as I trailed the king to a door in the deep dark. He opened it, and I bumped against his coat-covered bulk in the tight space. “After you.”
I looked through the door to the sconces glowing on either side of a steep set of stairs. “Where are we going?”
“Dinner.” Noting my confusion, perhaps even my dismay, he asked dryly, “Problem?”
The right answer would be no.
The smart thing to do would be to smile sweetly and descend those stairs. But as I glanced down the alleyway to the awaiting carriage on the street, I couldn’t ignore the twinge of disappointment.
I couldn’t keep from answering honestly, “Actually, yes.”
“You’re not hungry?” Florian asked with puckered brows. “I know you didn’t eat lunch.”
Olin was a rotten tattletale.
Truth be told, my appetite was waning more and more each day. Likely due to a different hunger that was building with a near-painful impatience that stole my sleep each night.
But I didn’t dare inform him of that. “I could eat,” I said carefully, then, “but I wanted to visit the city for a reason, Florian.”
I had hoped the use of his name would help lessen how much I was offending him by making him aware his efforts were not what I desired.
The king stared at me for a worrying moment. The frosted air around us began to bite. Finally, he blinked. “This is about your family.”
I nodded.
He licked his lips, then sighed. “I do have news. We’ll discuss it over dinner.” Again, he gestured for me to enter the stairwell.
Gazing up at him, the light misting of dark hair that fell over one of his eyes, I struggled to keep from demanding that he tell me such news right this instant, for he should have certainly already told me. It was part of our agreement, and he was well aware of my desperation to discover all I could.
I reminded myself that it didn’t matter how reverently he touched me—and how he made me wish he would touch me more—the male I was becoming grossly attracted to was still a king.
And I was to be nothing but grateful for what he deigned to provide me.
We climbed down to a surprisingly warm restaurant.
A female stood behind the bar made of glass, bottles of liquor aglow on the shelves behind her. Rounding the bar, she curtsied and brushed her hands upon her apron. “Florian,” she said brightly.
I frowned at her casual address of him.
Florian smiled in a way I’d only seen a small number of times, real and warm. “Jessilba, thank you for accommodating us on such short notice.”
“No need to thank us. It’s always a pleasure.” She gave me a curious once-over while tucking her golden hair behind her pointed ear, then said, “We’ve readied your table. This way.”
We were escorted to a round metal table surrounded by circular booth seats. An entrée of some type of fish and a decanter of wine already awaited.
Florian made sure I was seated comfortably upon the rich brown velvet before settling opposite me. Jessilba waited, then reached for the wine. He stopped her. “I’ll do it, thank you.”
A dismissal, for the faerie smiled and dipped her head. “Your meals will be ready shortly.”
I studied the rock-hewn walls adorned with brass sconces and gilded paintings of the sea. “What is this place?”
Florian sniffed the wine twice. “One of the best seafood restaurants in the city. A hidden gem, if you will. It was my father’s favorite place to take us for many years.” He poured a small glass, then lifted it to his nose to sniff again.
“Yet you believe they might poison you?”
“I believe nothing until it is proven,” he said so flippantly, it made the slight ache in my head worsen. “And eons of history have proven it’s wise to always be cautious, no matter how much any creature or place provides comfort.”
Staring at the glass of golden wine he gently set before my empty plate, I wondered what had made him so rigidly cautious. He was a male of great power who ruled a kingdom of Folkyn. Perhaps it was because of his position that he felt he had to be.
I understood little regarding politics, nor had it ever interested me, but I did know that those in positions such as he did not keep them by being anything other than unapologetically ruthless.
“Comfort,” I said, mulling over the word as I lifted the wine to my mouth. The king watched me take a small sip, his eyes upon my lips when I licked them. “I don’t know if such a thing truly exists.”
“It does,” he said, his eyes rising to mine. “And it kills.”
I held his gaze as those words blistered, questions turning through my mind. I was about to ask the most important one, regarding this news of my family, when he unbuttoned his coat collar and asked, “Is this your first time drinking wine?”
