Nectar of the Wicked (Deadly Divine Book 1), page 16
I left the coins and rose from the floor. “What do you want?”
“So many things.” He closed the door and leaned back against it with his hands in his pockets, and that quiet snick was a bolt of thunder that caused my heart to jump. “Right now, I’ll settle for hearing what you’re concocting in that whimsical mind of yours.”
“If you believe I’d dare share any part of me with you again, you’re as delusional as you are cold.”
He blinked but otherwise remained aloof with a dash of curiosity as he watched me wring my hands in my robe. “You’re afraid of me.”
I hated that he could scent as much, and the slight tremble within my voice. “You’ve just murdered someone, and you...” It felt bizarre to think, let alone say. “You’ve been attacking my kingdom.”
“Your kingdom?” He tilted his head. “How sweet.”
I ignored that, and how ridiculous it was to call Baneberry as such. Though it was indeed the stunning truth. “You intend to kill him,” I said, and he knew I spoke of the male who’d sired me. “Before I even lay eyes on him.”
He smirked. “Only after I’m done picking at every piece of his flesh, so you never know.” He lifted his shoulder. “You just might catch a glimpse.”
My heart sank.
The attacks he’d been ordering. The red wax upon the maps in his study. The wagons he kept receiving...
Me. He would destroy me.
“And that involves marrying the heir he went to great lengths to hide from you?” His silence was answer enough. He fully intended to humiliate us both, and it was working. “You’re repulsive.”
“Interesting,” he said, grinning in a way I’d never seen before. It reached his eyes and brightened them to a dawn-touched sky. “For I’ll wager I can still make you come undone within seconds, Princess.”
“Do not call me that.”
“But that is what you are, and now, what you are is mine to do with as I see fit.” He closed the space between us until he’d backed me against the wall and clasped my cheek. “You are mine, Tullia. In time, you will learn to accept that as I have.”
“I won’t,” I seethed, my eyes making the mistake of crashing into his. Endless blue threatened to hold me underwater until all breath left my lungs. My rage and fear dulled, but the ache it left me with would not. “You lied to me, Florian.”
“Don’t take it so personally,” he whispered, brushing his nose over my cheek. “I will do whatever it takes to get what I want.”
“I hate you,” I rasped.
He tensed, then his hand slid down to my throat.
My heart kicked when he gently squeezed. I still said it again, hoping it wounded him—even if it was just a scratch compared to what he’d done and would likely continue to do to me. “I loathe you.”
His mouth hovered over mine, our lips grazing with every low word that left his lying, manipulative mouth. “Hate me all you like, butterfly.” His grip on my throat loosened, his thumb stroking my thumping pulse. “It changes nothing.”
“It changes everything.”
His eyes sparked. “You still hunger for me, and that is all I need from you.”
“And to parade me at your side like a pet you keep only to punish those you despise.”
His lips spread into a smile against my cheek. “You do not suffer, Princess.”
Then his mouth stole mine.
I sank my teeth into his lip, and he snarled softly. This male was pure poison. Yet I licked his blood from my lips like it was an elixir.
His eyes were on my mouth. His teeth flashed as he rubbed my throat before releasing me. “Climb into bed like a good little pet. I’ll return to tend to you when I finish carving Frensroth into bite-sized pieces for his return to your father.”
Bile rose up my throat at the image he’d gruesomely painted.
He was stalking through the door when I said in an unintentional whisper, “Find another body to defile. I want no more of you.”
His fingers gripped the doorframe, the wood creaking. “Ordering me to humiliate you further, my daring creature?” His eyes gleamed a depthless blue over his shoulder. “I highly advise against such foolishness.”
The door slammed.
I sank down the wall with my hands in my hair, terrified, ashamed, and longing for the home I’d been so skies-damned determined to escape.
A guard was standing outside of my rooms.
I didn’t need to ask to know she’d been standing there all night. She eyed me up and down with a smirk, her perfect features freckle-dusted and her dark hair trapped in a thick braid.
I was still in my robe, and I had no intention of remedying that as I stalked down the hall. The sun was almost due to rise when I’d finally found sleep. After dreaming of flying blades and pools of blood and unfeeling kings, it hadn’t lasted long. I’d woken with a pounding head and heart with the birds, and in a cold sweat.
The guard followed me, of course.
Olin waited beneath the stairs with that perfect posture and his pointed chin in the air. Rather than bid him good morning as I’d done every day prior, a greeting he’d never deigned to return, I said, “I know why you detest me now.”
The steward blinked and arched a brow. “Oh?”
I narrowed my eyes. “And I’ll have you know that I find your unfair judgment almost as disgusting as your king.”
I left him gaping after me and entered the dining room.
The guard stood by the doors in silence while I ate with my fingers, my teeth ripping into a strip of pork. “Olin detests most things with a heartbeat, Princess, and I must advise against slandering the king.”
Shocked she’d spoken to me, I looked from the crackling fire to her light-brown eyes. “Are you to follow me everywhere I go?”
The guard gave me a bland look. “Yes.”
I dropped the pork to my plate. “What is your name?”
“Zayla.”
“Pretty,” I said absently. Then I knocked the plate of food toward her and rose to collect Snow’s breakfast from the hutch. “You’d better eat, then.”
“I’ve already eaten.”
Of course, she had.
Zayla followed me outside into the gray morning. The wind tangled my untouched hair and whipped it over my cheeks. “Where are you going, Princess?”
“To feed my wolf.”
“A blizzard nears.”
I cared nothing for blizzards when I’d been swept into a storm I might never survive. “Then we’d better hurry.”
In nothing but knee-high boots and my robe, I stomped through the ever-growing snow upon the grass to the stables. All the horses were in their stalls, Henron busy catering to their annoyance at being cooped up.
He laughed lightly as I passed. “Didn’t feel like dressing in one of your evening gowns today, Princess?”
That word again—from him. I’d ignored it the first time. There was no ignoring it now.
Most would be delighted to discover they were a long-lost princess, including my stupid past self. Now, I couldn’t think of anything worse.
“Shut your trap, Henron.”
The stable hand whistled. “Never thought I’d live to see the day you were grumpy.”
Zayla muttered something that sounded like, “Lucky me.”
The two of them talked quietly while I tended to Snow and tried to calm down. But not even her soft fur or dark and inquisitive eyes could help settle me. My anger and self-loathing worsened with the weather that lashed at the wooden walls around us.
Snow shivered, and I withdrew my hand from her velvet ear as an idea came.
Once she was done eating, I picked her up and carried her back through the stables.
Henron’s eyes bulged, a piece of hay falling from his mouth. “Where are you taking the wolf?”
“Out of the cold.”
He cursed colorfully at my back, while Zayla raced after me. “I urge you to reconsider, Princess.”
My hair flew in front of my face, making it hard to see. “Would you like to sleep in the stables in this weather?”
“If I were a wolf, yes,” she said, almost pleadingly. “Much better than the woods.”
I ignored her and tucked Snow’s head to my chest when a giant branch fell in our path. Zayla grabbed my arm, but I didn’t want her assistance. I pulled free and stepped around it.
She apologized, then tried to reason with me again. “Please, this isn’t wise. The king will be furious.”
I only smiled and thought, exactly.
I left Snow in my rooms and headed to the kitchen.
My nape prickled with awareness as I hurried past the king’s study. He was in there. Hopefully wondering what I was up to.
I’d keep him wondering for the rest of his days if he insisted on keeping me. I had no doubt he’d already been informed of the cub in my chambers. I hoped his skin itched with irritation.
Zayla followed, but she stood atop the stairs, apparently confident I wouldn’t flee from Florian via the underground rooms.
Approaching the island bench, I eyed the door shielding the set of stairs leading outside. Using it to escape would be impossible, especially with three males nearby and guards patrolling the grounds. I knew my chances of escaping at all were slim, and I was growing more and more certain that I would never see Baneberry.
Knowing didn’t help—that surrender was my only option. I’d been backed into a corner and my hackles were raised.
I might have been a pet, but that didn’t mean I would behave.
Kreed and his sons finally noticed my entrance over their laughter and chatter and the clang of pots and utensils when I cleared my throat.
They all turned at once. One of the twins blinked furiously.
Kreed wiped his hands on a towel and inclined his head in greeting. “Is there something you need?”
“A tunnel to Baneberry,” I quipped before I could help myself.
Kreed’s gaze darkened, his mouth tightening.
I leaned against the island. “You all knew, didn’t you? You knew exactly what he intended for me.”
The gurgling stew on the stove was the only sound.
I bit the inside of my cheek, then said, “I need a bowl of water, please.”
One of the twins asked, “What in the skies for?”
His brother elbowed him.
“To lap at like a good little pet,” I said coldly, shocking them and myself. I licked my teeth and sighed. “For the wolf in my rooms.”
Kreed watched me while one of his sons resumed chopping an onion. The other dug inside the cupboard in the corner of the kitchen for what I needed. The cook’s gaze burned, almost as if he wished to say something.
I refrained from telling him to spit it out already and averted my gaze to the tea tray at the end of the bench, ready and waiting to be taken upstairs.
Finally, Kreed said, “A wolf cannot be domesticated, Princess.”
“Neither can females who’ve been tricked into marriage, yet here I am...” I forced a smile. “Stuck here doing whatever the king wishes.”
Kreed leaned back against the sink. “You’ve only just discovered where you were born.”
I nodded, staring down at the toes of my damp boots.
“Let the shock wear off before you make hasty decisions,” he suggested quietly, then he stalked toward the door that would take him outside.
I looked back at the silver tray, Kreed’s words unable to settle rationally. Especially when I realized the twins had curiously disappeared, too—leaving me alone with a tea tray headed for the king.
The sea salt sat by the stove beside me, the lid open and tempting. I scooped three spoonfuls into the teapot. Then I wiped the teaspoon on my robe and set it back beside the saucer.
The twins returned from a small room I couldn’t see from where I stood, laughing. One grabbed the tea tray and took the stairs to the first floor of the manor.
The other handed me a bowl large enough to wash a babe in. “I’m Thistle.” He pointed at a small cluster of freckles beside his right eye. “These tend to help people remember.” I nodded and took the bowl. He glanced at it with a crooked smirk. “Thought you might need a big one, being that wolves don’t stay small for long.”
Apprehension threatened to make me reconsider allowing Snow indoors. I ignored his growing smile when I thanked him curtly, and returned to the first floor.
Zayla straightened from the wall that faced the stairwell. Her eyes narrowed on the slight smile that touched my lips as we heard the king curse viciously from down the hall.
“Olin, what in the rotten fucking skies is wrong with this tea?”
I chomped down on my lips.
Zayla asked with a rough whisper once we’d climbed the grand staircase, “You did that, didn’t you?”
“Did what?” I asked, and in a dull tone that told her yes, I did—and no, I didn’t care if she tattled on me.
“Tullia,” she warned. “You mustn’t toy with him. He might be fair, but he’s also...” Looking at the doors of the king’s rooms, she said softly, “Without heart.”
“Oh, I’m well aware.” I smiled, and felt it was at least a little bit earnest, as I met her eyes outside of my rooms. “Thank you for trying to warn me, though.”
I closed the door on her worried expression, Snow rising from where she’d made herself comfortable on my bed. She entered the bathing room when I filled the bowl and set it down upon the stone.
I watched her drink, tempted to smack myself upon belatedly realizing I would need to take her outside numerous times a day until she learned not to pee in my rooms.
A small price to pay for the only company I could trust.
Yet again, the king entered without knocking.
The slamming of the door should have warned me to be cautious.
It would seem the shock, and every other nasty feeling that came with it, hadn’t calmed enough for me to even consider minding my words. “It’s rude to enter someone’s private quarters without permission.”
Florian eyed where Snow was sleeping on the crimson carpet before the fire, his jaw firm with displeasure. “So is putting salt in someone’s tea.”
Snow only stirred in her sleep. Apparently not at all concerned about the intruder who had entered our domain.
“Oh?” I hid behind the book in my hand. His boots, these ones sharp-toed and crafted from what appeared to be reptile skin, were only half blocked by it. “Whoever did that is rude indeed.”
He hummed. “You are playing a dangerous game, pet.”
The word pet singed like iron against my ears. But I turned the page, saying airily, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
The book was snatched from my fingers.
Florian inspected the title, muttering, “Romancing the Tyrant,” and tossed the rather fitting and steamy novel I’d just begun to enjoy to the floor.
I straightened and gasped in outrage, but it was cut short when the king stood over me and wrapped my loose braid around his fist. He yanked my head back, his words a flame to kindling at my exposed neck. “Do you think enraging me will benefit you?”
“Yes,” I said, my heart beating hard. “For it makes me feel...” I turned my head slightly, the words light and breathless at his bristled jaw. “So much better.”
He snarled. The sound rippled from his throat and coated my skin in gooseflesh. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t fuck the insolence out of you.”
I couldn’t have stopped myself even if I’d imagined a million Frensroth’s dead in a dungeon within the woods. I licked the bristle over his jawline, and whispered, “Because I’d enjoy it.”
I was forced to my feet by the hand in my hair, pain smarting at my scalp when I was too stubborn to comply.
It mixed with a pleasure so complete when the king reached under my robe and between my thighs. They parted in permission—enough for his fingers to discover just how thoroughly my body liked to betray my mind.
“You speak true,” he said, thick and perhaps even a touch shocked.
My head was then tilted for his mouth to brand the skin at the curve of my neck with a hard suck from his lips and a kiss of teeth. “You loathe me, yet your body melts from my presence.”
I had nothing to say to that. Nothing wise, anyway. “The book I was reading before you so rudely interrupted was getting very...” I swallowed when he brought my arousal to my clit and circled. “Interesting.”
My stomach tightened, and my thighs shook. I gripped his arms, my nails digging into the muscle beneath his thin shirt.
“If I find you’ve made yourself come without my assistance, I’ll remove them all from the manor.”
Surely, he couldn’t be serious.
He pressed hard upon my clit, and I both flinched and moaned. Breathing heavier than I’d have liked, I asked, incredulous, “You’re jealous of a book?”
His teeth sank into my neck, breaking the skin. The sharp bite of pain made me weakly attempt to push him away. “No one makes you squirm but me.” He licked at the punctures he’d made.
The mere thought of him feeding from me, no matter how small an amount, both thrilled and enraged. “Don’t you dare feed from me.”
“Sweetest fucking creature...” His tongue flattened to my thudding pulse, then trailed up my throat. His hold on my hair loosened. His mouth fell over mine. The copper taste of my blood turned my heart over in my chest. “There will come a time when you’ll plead for me to.”
I wouldn’t let him do that to me. Ever. “You’ve taken enough from me, wouldn’t you agree?”
Florian reared back to meet my eyes and searched them. “I’ve not taken nearly half as much as I wish to, butterfly.” Then his finger slid inside my body, and scalding pain lanced through me as it met resistance.
As it met the barrier he’d referred to.
He withdrew and spread my arousal again. Sparks of pleasure ignited—making me forget the pain, the lies, and every reason I shouldn’t want more. My thighs shook harder, and I knew it wouldn’t take much more for him to make me fall apart over nothing but his touch once again.
