Nectar of the Wicked (Deadly Divine Book 1), page 25
“Difficult,” Florian said dryly.
Fume’s voice became a whisper I could barely hear. “Just say the word.”
Boots crunching over the pebbled drive sounded, shadows swaying over the stone of the entrance steps. My heart echoed in my ears as Florian barked something I missed beneath the screech of wind, and I strained to listen.
Then I heard him say, “No one touches her but me.”
Their conversation then changed to fighting in the barracks and stolen weaponry near the border. It quickly became evident that Florian had a lot of catching up to do regarding the running of his armies and kingdom after spending so much time tending to me.
There was no guilt for keeping him from his duties. There was only confusion as I forgot all about heading to the kitchen and quietly walked back upstairs instead.
I couldn’t make sense of what I’d overheard. Was Florian hesitant to marry me? To go forth with a celebration that would have all of Folkyn and beyond know it was official—he’d stolen and claimed his enemy’s daughter.
Or was it something else?
Something that seemed so unfathomable, I couldn’t even entertain the idea.
The only thing I knew with bone-deep certainty was that nothing was impossible where Florian’s meticulous plans and wrath were concerned. So though it caused every ounce of me to protest, I knew I had no choice.
Further punctuating my thoughts, the clock downstairs gave one last echoing tick as I quietly closed the doors to Florian’s chambers behind me.
It was time to make some plans of my own.
To sleep in my rooms would arouse suspicion when Florian assumed I was still asleep in his bed where he’d left me.
I failed to remember he’d catch my scent on the stairs and in the hall outside and know I was awake when he returned hours later.
The quiet sound of the doors clicking closed was akin to a drum pounding. “Where have you been, butterfly?”
I rolled to my back and stretched my arms over my head.
Florian stood by the chaise, unbuttoning his shirt. I chewed my lip and made a show of studying his broad chest. “Couldn’t sleep. I was hungry.”
Florian tossed the rippling black silk to the chaise, then unfastened his pants. “Need me?”
Incessantly, I thought but didn’t dare say. I smiled. “For food.”
He hummed, his gaze landing where the bedding had fallen from my breasts. “Not my cock, then?”
My smile grew, real this time, as he prowled toward me. He tore the blankets away to seize my ankle.
I squeaked, dragged to the side of the bed.
Just when I’d thought I’d gotten away with keeping my troubled thoughts to myself, he ran his hand down the inside of my leg. “Something upsets you.” Panic bleated, and his eyes shot to mine as he heard it—the increased tempo of my heart. “Butterfly,” he warned softly. “Tell me what has kept you awake.”
“You,” I whispered immediately, and honestly.
His hand stilled as he waited for more.
There was no point in not speaking of it, in hiding the truth when it might help me avoid admitting what I’d overheard earlier. “You’re my mate, aren’t you?”
He didn’t answer, and he didn’t need to.
He pushed his cock into my body and gathered my legs to his chest, causing him to sink so deep that pain flared. I moaned as he grasped my thighs and spread them, my feet at his hard shoulders, and slowly rocked his hips.
His head turned for his mouth to press to my ankle, and the action, coupled with his unrelenting gaze...
I closed my eyes, so confused and conflicted and cornered that tears threatened to arrive.
For once, the king didn’t demand I keep them open.
He delivered my traitorous body to a release as gentle as the roughened fingertips trailing my legs, and then he followed with a snarled groan.
Afterward, he cleaned me, and I curled onto my side to face him when he returned from the bathing room. I searched those dark-blue eyes, and they searched mine.
And I wondered if we were both looking for something we were too afraid to find.
Fear had held me prisoner my entire life. More than Rolina. More than this male. And more than anyone else ever could.
I couldn’t keep letting it control me. I had to stop letting it keep me where I didn’t wish to be.
Here, that noose around my neck—the bond I’d found with this king—tightened. I wish to be right here.
But although I might have been a part of his plan, it couldn’t be more clear, especially after hearing pieces of his conversation with Fume, that Florian was incapable of turning the tides of his own making.
And I’d been swimming toward nothing for too long.
Florian studied my every feature, his jaw firm. Yet he would not demand that I tell him what was ailing me again. Not when he did not wish to acknowledge things I’d rather not even acknowledge myself.
But I needed to.
I needed to use what I felt as a weapon, rather than let it use me.
I needed to use whatever he felt for me, however small, rather than let him play with me until he decided he was bored and his mission was complete.
So I said softly, “I still hate you, you know.”
He tensed, something passing through his eyes.
Reaching out, I traced his cheekbone, whispering without enough air in my chest, “Most of all, I hate that I think I’m falling in love with you.”
His lips parted slightly, but otherwise, he just continued to stare. He didn’t blink. Florian did exactly what I expected and needed him to.
Nothing at all.
I rolled over to face the balcony doors and sleep, knowing he would leave me again and attempting not to let it wound. For although I hadn’t thought I’d meant what I’d said, I supposed I had to some extent.
I was falling, and it was time to find a way out before his refusal to catch me killed me.
I’d assumed correctly.
The following morning, Florian was gone.
It was what I wanted. What I needed. Yet alone in my own rooms, I bathed and angrily scrubbed useless tears from my cheeks.
A grizzly glance from Olin, when I ventured downstairs for breakfast and dared to ask of the king’s whereabouts, conveyed the steward would rather swim naked in the iced-over lake than indulge any curiosity of mine.
He walked past me and up the stairs, nose in the air and a steaming cup of ginger-scented tea in hand.
Right. Still despised me, then. I sighed, even as I tried not to laugh.
One of the groundskeepers opened the manor doors to let Snow in.
The wolf bounded through the foyer toward me, bigger than I’d last seen and trailing mud behind her.
I crouched to nuzzle my face in her wet coat, then swiped dirt from her cheeks. “Did you miss me?” She licked my cheek, and I laughed. “I missed you more. Hungry?” I asked, rising and smiling as she raced ahead of me and down the hall to the kitchen stairs.
“Well, if it isn’t the captive bride.” Kreed wriggled his brows while I took a seat upon the stool at the island bench. “I’ll need a minute to prepare you your usual.” He pointedly cleared his throat. “After such a long absence.”
Heat crept into my cheeks. I muttered scratchily, “It’s only been a few days.”
The cook grinned, blinding and mischievous. “Four days, Princess.” He laughed, then whistled. “That’s some prowess, even for a royal male.”
I refused to tell him that I could have comfortably left the king’s rooms yesterday, and that Florian had thought it best we be absolutely certain the heat was over beforehand. “Stop it,” I hissed but smiled, then looked around. “Where are the twins? Though I’m glad they’re not here to hear you tease me, I would like to thank them for watching Snow.”
“Helping to clean up the melting mess outside.” He dumped a cup of oats into a pot of water. “And no need. They tried to keep her, I’ll have you know. I think you might have to share now.”
I looked down at Snow, who was licking her bowl clean, relieved. Glad to know that should I find a way to Baneberry, then the wolf would be cared for. And if I never returned to this frosty kingdom, then she would be loved.
My chest clenched.
Forcing out a breath that shook, I feigned a yawn that made the cook laugh again as he finished preparing my breakfast.
I ate while lost in the gloom of my thoughts, and Kreed vigorously scrubbed the bottom of a large pot. Then what he’d said came back to me, and I stopped chewing to ask, “The snow melts?”
He shot me a smile over his shoulder. “The snow melts.”
I frowned when he looked away, poking at my breakfast with the spoon. “You seem far too pleased by this.” I would have thought the people of Hellebore knew exactly what living here entailed—terminal cold.
He laughed, the sound thick with dry disbelief. “Princess, it’s been years of endless snow. Everyone is pleased.”
I made a face. “The entire manor would be half buried if that were true.”
Kreed snorted. “Believe me, it has been more times than I can count.” He set the pot on the drying rack and grabbed the towel. “Florian hires some of Aura’s people to help thaw things when it gets...” He scratched at his jaw and made a strange noise, then finished with, “Particularly bad.”
“So,” I said, failing to understand his way of phrasing it. “Now autumn comes?” The only other season to grace this kingdom.
He gave me an odd look, then a pat on my shoulder as he headed for the stairs. “Only time will tell.”
Before he could leave, I asked, “You wouldn’t happen to know when Florian might return, would you?”
“As far as I’m aware, he’s seeing to issues near the border. Could be days or mere hours.”
Recalling that weaponry had been stolen, I asked, “The warrior camps?”
Kreed hesitated, gripping the doorframe. “Do not get my limbs severed, Princess.” His flat expression said that Olin had already tattled on him to the king, and he’d since been warned not to appease my curiosities.
I winced. “Are the frozen males still hanging in the drawing room?”
He barked out a laugh. “Skies, no.”
“Then...” I blanched, not wanting but needing to know.
Kreed gave me another look, then glanced up the stairs. Just when I’d thought he’d leave, he looked back at me and said quietly, “Guess most on the estate know, so...” He shrugged. “He killed them.” Then he tapped the wood and left me to fester with all he’d said and wouldn’t say.
Exhaustion and frustration and a gnawing sense of foreboding kept me from finishing my breakfast. I was so tired of this world of secrecy and deceit.
A world I’d desperately wanted to be a part of with such foolishly naive abandon.
I cleaned up my mess and left the kitchen, pondering a nap before I pondered plans of escape.
I withheld a groan when I found Zayla waiting in the hall.
My dismay evidently showed, for the guard smiled. “Try not to look too displeased, Princess. I’m merely in charge of making sure no harm befalls you.” Eyeing me up and down, she pinched her lips. “Enjoy the heat?”
Her audacity punched a shocked laugh from me. I walked down the hall, and she quickly joined me. “I’d enjoy being able to go wherever I want more,” I lied smoothly.
I highly doubted I’d enjoy myself so thoroughly ever again.
She paused before Florian’s study. “You’re not a prisoner, Tullia.” The door behind her was cracked open. I could see the fireplace beyond the desk was empty, and there was not a trace of fresh smoke nor his scent.
He hadn’t been in there at all today. Which confirmed he’d left for the warrior outposts while I’d slept.
I continued on. “That’s exactly what I am, or you wouldn’t still be following me everywhere.”
“Would it help if I informed you that you are indeed permitted to go wherever you wish?” I turned to her, and the freckles upon her nose shifted as she smiled. “Providing you take a personal guard, of course.”
Hope expanded so fast, I feared I’d wear it all over my face.
I cleared my throat and did my best to keep my features clean of anything other than a mild hint of expected excitement. I rolled my eyes. “Of course.”
Zayla laughed.
I squinted at her with lingering disbelief. “Truly?”
She nodded, fixing the end of her long braid. “The king told me so himself right as he was leaving.”
It had worked.
I didn’t let that fool me into believing I now had Florian’s trust in any form. But the confessing of my feelings, and acknowledging the reason for this unquenchable desire we couldn’t shake for one another, that we were mates...
It had truly worked.
I stopped before the stairs, tempted to laugh. I calmed my features and tone. “Anywhere?”
Zayla bobbed her head. “Suppose it depends on how far anywhere is.”
“The city,” I said, and probably far too quickly but beyond caring now.
It had worked, and it couldn’t be taken back when Florian wasn’t here. I could get to this florist on Ashen Street today.
A swooping took hold of my heartbeat while a sinking stone dropped to my stomach.
Zayla lifted her shoulders. “I cannot see why that would be an issue. I’ll make arrangements with some of the other guards to escort you.” She eyed me pointedly. “No plans of escape in my absence.” A grim look at the drawing room beyond the stairs. “I do not wish to die so gruesomely.”
I winced yet again, laughing humorlessly as I said, “Understood.” Then I thanked her and watched her leave.
Once I knew she was gone, I let the hope and shaking nerves I’d tried to keep hidden propel me up the stairs in a rush to my chambers. Reaching the florist without the guards knowing would prove difficult, but if I could get close enough, perhaps I could outrun them.
That, or I would at least know exactly where to materialize to. Providing I could learn how when I’d only done so in dire situations thus far.
Dressing in a dark crimson gown with woolen lining and long flowing sleeves, I froze at the sight of the coat Florian had given me what seemed like so many moons ago.
Days. I’d been in Folkyn for mere weeks. Even more shocking was that I’d known Florian for less than a month.
In such a short time, not only had he changed my entire life—he’d also begun to change my beliefs and the beat of my heart. I couldn’t imagine the damage he’d do if I stayed much longer, all the while knowing the chances of leaving Hellebore today were slim.
I would likely return to these rooms and to the male who’d given them to me. And I would again promise myself that I would find a way out when there was none to be found.
When perhaps I didn’t truly want one.
I stopped at the door with the coat in hand. It would be too much with my gown, but after one last glimpse at the bed I hadn’t slept in for four unforgettable nights, I donned it anyway and closed the door.
My growing affections for this kingdom’s cold ruler were not enough to quiet the unrest inside me. An unrest he’d caused with his bloodthirsty plans, but that I could only fix myself. He would never change his mind, and he certainly wouldn’t allow me to meet my father when he was the very reason I was here.
Florian could not love me, and trying to make him would not save me.
I would need to save myself. To seek all I needed before I fell into another trap I might have avoided if I’d only opened my eyes wide enough to see that something wasn’t right.
And the befuddling conversation I’d overheard last night had been a stark reminder that none of this was right—no matter how differently the beating organ in my chest felt.
Downstairs, Zayla waited by the doors in the foyer. She sketched a playful bow. “Your wish has been granted, Princess.”
“Thank you,” I said, meaning it, as the portrait of Lilitha caught my eye.
Her mischievous eyes twinkled, and I could’ve sworn the young princess trapped within a painting attempted to convey something.
Shaking my head, I gathered my skirts to descend the damp steps to the drive.
I stopped at the sight of the guard leaning against the dark-blue carriage. He flicked ash from his tobacco stem and straightened with a grin. Smoke billowed from his mouth and clouded his face.
The ash floated across the royal insignia of the hellebore flower upon the carriage door, falling to the melting sludge upon the ground.
The driver, dressed in the regalia of a warrior, leaned down from his seat to smack the carriage. “Cease ogling and open the damned door, Fellan.”
Zayla closed the doors to the manor.
Fellan shot the male a dark scowl and stomped on the stem with unnecessary vigor. “No one in their right mind would ogle Molkan’s spawn.” He glowered and spat at the ground.
I tensed and glanced at Zayla when she reached my side. “Apologies, Princess.” A sharp warning look was given to Fellan. “He was one of few with a clear morning schedule.”
“Wonder why,” I muttered beneath my breath, and sighed as I walked toward the carriage.
Fellan opened the door, whispering far too close to my hair, “Heard that, Princess.”
I ignored him and climbed inside, nearly tripping on my gown as Snow howled behind the doors to the manor.
Zayla sat beside me while Fellan sat opposite us with his legs spread. His jaw rotated as the carriage lurched forward, his gaze unwilling to leave me alone.
I did my best to act as though he wasn’t there at all, all the while knowing it would be wise to never be caught alone with such a hostile creature. Perhaps I should have told Florian he’d bruised my ribs after all.
They were now healed, and the chance was gone.
Though smaller than the royal carriage I’d journeyed in before, it was no less grand. The seats had been upholstered in black leather, and matching drapes veiled the windows. With Fellan’s unrelenting glower pressing like a burn upon my face, I pulled them open to view the woods.
“Close them,” Fellan barked.
