Nectar of the Wicked (Deadly Divine Book 1), page 8
Florian lifted a shoulder and took another sip of whiskey. “I intend to go to war, and although I intend to win, it would be irresponsible of me to attempt as much without someone to rule in my stead should death find me.”
War.
My mind spun and spun so fast, I feared I’d snatch the whiskey from his hand to drain the lot. There had always been rumors of cruelty and tension between the ruling courts of Folkyn, though never anything that would make one think they would go to war.
There had only ever been one war on this continent.
A war that had created the middle lands.
Crustle was formed eons ago when the Fae of Folkyn grew tired of humans leaking into their lands. All the while, the human royals of Ordaylia had never cared who stole into Fae territory and what they did while there, as they had supposedly gained many riches from the daring folk who lived to steal from faeries.
But when the stealing and treachery bloomed into murder—of both Fae and their wildlife—the four courts of Folkyn moved against Ordaylia.
From the recounts I’d read, it was not so much a war but a journey with few battles to the doorstep of the mortal royal home. By the time the Fae armies had reached the castle, the king and queen of Ordaylia had pledged to surrender and find terms for peace.
The king was killed and the queen forced to provide a solution that, while not well thought out, had indeed provided a tremulous peace across the continent of Mythayla for thousands and thousands of years.
Florian downed the last of his drink. “Afraid of a little bloodshed, butterfly?” He smirked. “Fear not. You would not accompany me. Risking your life would defeat the purpose of what I’m hoping to achieve, of course.”
“I’m just...” I trailed off, at a loss for words. “I’m so confused.”
“What confuses you?”
So many things. All of it.
I didn’t say that, but rather, “You could have anyone you desire. Anyone.”
He stroked the perfect curve of his lower lip, staring into his empty glass as though pondering whether to speak more on the baffling matter. “You are beautiful and of pure blood, yet you have nothing.” When I frowned, he added simply, “Therefore, you will expect nothing.”
He didn’t need to fill in the gaps between those words. The females he’d perhaps considered in his court, or even in all the realms of Folkyn, were Fae.
They would expect everything.
And I could not blame them. A small fire burned low in my gut at his expectations and assumptions. “What makes you think I would make such an easy wife?” Realizing what I’d said and the way it could be received, I blushed.
Noticing, Florian smirked as he set his glass down. “I don’t expect you to be...” He crossed to the bed with steps that kicked at my slowing heart. “Easy.” Standing before me, he went to open my knees.
They opened for him on instinct—further cementing his beliefs.
His smile was devastating. His fingers gentle at my chin. He lifted and stroked it. “I already know you wish only to please me.”
I swallowed, loathing that he was right. Denying it was pointless. Still, I challenged, “And what has you so convinced?”
His brow arched. “You are malleable.” His eyes crawled down my body to halt between my thighs. “You do as I tell you.”
“One could argue that’s because you’ve paid me to.”
His lips twitched, eyes slamming into mine. “We know that’s not why you came on my tongue within a minute.”
Want fired through my blood and gathered low in my body.
He inhaled, deep and grinning, as he murmured, “Smells like confirmation.”
It was then I knew with a certainty that should have made me turn his outrageous request down but instead, only made me curl closer, that this male would indeed be my doom.
“Answers,” I said, my voice strangled and wrong as I grappled for some semblance of control. “I require answers as to who I am and where I belong. Is that what I shall receive?”
A flash of darkness swept over his eyes. His touch firmed before he released me and turned away. “Of course.”
I closed my knees and chewed my lip.
This was insanely stupid. So much so, I shouldn’t even be tempted. Marriage was a contract few rarely escaped. Surely, I was not so desperate that I would marry a king.
But I was that desperate.
Though maybe it wasn’t stupid at all. I’d be there. I’d be in Folkyn. I would not have to work for Madam Morin. I would not have to watch through our apartment windows as birds flew wherever they wished and I remained trapped.
Florian now stood close to the door, staring at me.
Perceptive or merely guessing wildly, he said, “You will wish for nothing, butterfly. You will have every comfort you need, including the protection of my court in your precious search for this home you desire. Just be mindful that should you find whatever that might be...” Flurries emerged, his words a cold and overt warning. “You will belong only to me.”
Before I could ask if I would have him, he was gone.
The answer to my unasked question became clear in his absence. He wouldn’t have sought a creature as desperate and foolish as me if he wished to belong to someone in kind.
As the following dawn lost its jeweled light, another sparrow arrived with a request to meet the king.
Having slept for only a handful of hours, I was already awake and surprised I’d slept that much given the never-ending spiral of thoughts and fears plaguing me.
Marriage. War. Queen.
Answers.
I stared at the small piece of parchment, at what I was sure was the king’s handwriting, and I knew. He would want my acceptance of his proposal tonight.
I should refuse. I shouldn’t have even been considering it.
Yet for some reason, the idea of turning down his offer filled me with more dread than the absurdly ridiculous idea of marrying him.
Trusting King Florian was not an option.
But neither was trusting that I could find a way to Folkyn on my own and survive. He was a risk with countless hidden and dangerous facets but also a guarantee. By agreeing to this, I would make it into Faerie.
I would finally be free of Crustle.
I donned a lime-green cotton dress that covered my arms, legs, and most of my chest. I brushed my hair but left it free and wild. Tonight, I would need to have my wits about me. Florian would not distract me by having me almost naked and at his mercy again, languid and pliant from pleasure.
The wind howled in greeting as soon as I stepped outside.
Fire within the street lamps flickered and swayed with the incoming storm. Smoke danced through the fogged dark as some extinguished. The light tap of my slippers upon the moss-dusted cobblestone matched the erratic beat of my anxious heart.
Though the hour was late and the weather had turned, the Lair of Lust was aglow. The grimy street-facing window gave view to patrons dancing and drinking at the bar. Briefly, I wondered what that might be like—to lose all inhibitions in such a way.
Then I pondered if I’d already experienced it beneath the touch and taste of a devious king.
More than a little distracted while entering the alleyway that led to the back of the pleasure house, I nearly jumped when a rat skittered out from behind a pile of waste and ran from the darkness toward the street.
Heart pounding, I choked on a laugh as I watched it go. My smile fell when boots appeared and stopped.
A male in a hooded cloak blocked the end of the alley.
I could see nothing of his shadowed features from where I stood, but I remembered those eyes. Eyes of bright and pure gold.
Fear fell into every sluggish heartbeat, a dragging gong in my ears.
About to ask him what he was doing here when he’d been with the Wild Hunt, I struggled to form words. He didn’t blink. His gaze held mine, and he didn’t move.
Move. The word was a punch to the gut. The stairs to the rear entrance were just a few short feet away, yet both of us stood so very still, seemingly trapped.
Laughter spilled onto the street from a group leaving the Lair of Lust via the main entrance. It broke my terror-frozen trance. I jerked backward.
The golden-eyed faerie took a step forward.
An owl flying overhead gave an ear-piercing screech, and I finally ran for the stairs.
I flew up them, not breathing and half expecting to be yanked back down by the cloaked male.
A male of whom I swore was the same one who’d been traveling with the hunt. The same male who’d sent me away after I’d watched that strange mist dissolve Rolina into nothing but the soil and grass she’d died upon.
I opened the door to the third floor and threw myself inside, then closed it and peered through the sliver of streaked glass in the wood to the stairs.
No one was there. At least, not that I could see.
The Wild Hunt did not return between their yearly visits.
Unease curdled within my stomach, weighing my steps down to the second floor. I didn’t linger on the third. Not only because I was in a hurry to escape the feeling of being hunted but also because I had no reason to use the dressing rooms.
I stopped beneath the stairs and leaned back against the wall, attempting to organize my scrambled thoughts.
Perhaps it hadn’t been the same male, and he was merely waiting for one of the employees of the Lair to leave.
Whoever he was, it didn’t matter. I had bigger things to tend to.
I smoothed my clammy hands over the bodice of my gown and continued down the hall to the room harboring a king.
With so many questions vying for answers, there was no controlling what left my mouth first. “Did you do all of that to me so I would be dazed and therefore more likely to agree to your needs?”
“Hello to you too, butterfly.” Florian gave me an amused glance over his shoulder. His eyes narrowed on my gown, and his lip lifted in disapproval. He turned back to the liquor cabinet. “You’ll be glad to know a dressing chamber filled with proper clothing awaits you.”
Stunned, I almost asked how he knew what sizes I would need, and why he seemed so certain I would agree to this asinine bargain. But I refused to let him deter me. “I would appreciate an answer to my question.” I swallowed. “Majesty.”
“Florian.” He continued reading a document I couldn’t see.
My teeth gnashed.
“I am curious.” The scratch of a quill sounded, and then he finally deigned to give me his full attention. “What exactly did I do to you?”
My ire dripped away as he leaned against the cabinet with his elbows upon the wood and crossed his booted ankles. The fabric of his silken black shirt tightened over his muscular arms.
No one had any right to look like him. As though the night sky and all of its stars lived within his eyes and the dark hair that fell in soft waves over his shoulders. As though Mythayla, goddess of the skies that watched over all, had crafted his bone structure from the marble statues created to replicate and honor her.
My tongue felt thick as I said, “You know what you did.”
He waited, a maddening curl to his plush lips.
I nearly growled, so flustered and nervous and terrified and...
And unbearably excited.
“Say it, sweet creature.” Florian straightened and strode toward me. “I’m starving to hear all about how I devoured your beautiful cunt to make you more amenable to my wicked plans.”
I wouldn’t, and he knew that.
As he reached me and collected a curl nestled over the curve of my cheek, my heart faltered. It dropped into my stomach when his amusement vanished.
Frosted anger hardened his features.
His eyes darkened to a blue so deep, they were nearly black. He sniffed, releasing my hair to circle me slowly. “Where have you been?”
“What do you mean?”
“I couldn’t have asked the question any clearer,” he said through teeth I knew were gritted before he stopped in front of me once again.
“I haven’t been anywhere today,” I said, confused. “Only here.”
“You were followed, then,” Florian surmised. “By a male.”
Gold eyes. Dark hooded cloak.
My chin was taken, the king’s grip firm but not enough to hurt. “You were aware?”
I saw no reason to keep the bizarre encounter with the golden-eyed faerie to myself. “The alley downstairs. Someone was standing at the end, watching me from the street. I ran to the rear entrance before he could approach me.”
He searched my eyes, as if ensuring I spoke the truth. Still startled by his reaction yet having nothing to hide, I let him. “He scared you.”
I nodded once.
“And he should,” Florian said coldly. His touch fell, and he stalked back to the liquor cabinet. “There are some who seek to stop me.”
“Those you are waging war against?” I pressed boldly.
He tensed.
Then, to my surprise, he answered me. “Yes. Should something like that happen again, you are to tell me right away.”
I tried to keep the spark of fear those words gave from entering my voice. “You expect it to happen again?” The idea of seeing that male again frightened me more than marrying this frosty king.
“No, but it’s wise to be cautious regardless.” Florian looked me over, something moving behind that deep-sea gaze. “Did you happen to see what he looks like?”
“Gold eyes,” I said instantly. “Nothing more.”
Florian stared at me for a minute that seared each breath, his jaw ticking. He was agitated, and though I knew it was not my fault, an impulse to soothe gripped me. But then he looked at the cabinet, and I followed his gaze to what he’d been busy with when I arrived.
A contract.
He placed his finger between his teeth—between his canines.
Blood crawled from the tip of his forefinger when he lewdly removed it from his mouth. I watched it bead, then race down to his hand.
“Introducing you to the life force of our people will be a joy indeed.”
Horror trickled down my spine. All the while, something stirred awake within me. Something unfamiliar yet hungry that slumbered deep within my bones.
I didn’t dare meet his gaze while I failed to blink at the sight of his blood and warred with that strange entity, but I felt it. His own hunger and curiosity pushed upon my skin like the bruising touch of his hands.
His bloodied finger was then pressed to the contract without hesitation.
Then again, there was no need for him to hesitate. This was his plan. This was why he wanted to meet with me in his pleasure house.
His hand rose, and as it fell to his side, I stepped forward and stared at the large fingerprint inked in blood above the black looping scrawl of his name.
The magnitude of what was happening settled like sharp rocks within my chest and stomach. I blinked heavily, my terrified heart all I could hear and the parchment all I could see.
A blood contract. Escapable only in death.
I’d already known as much. All marriages and contracts concerning the Fae were the same—eternally inescapable. Yet I stared down at the parchment spread atop the cabinet over rings of long-dried liquor, unmoving. Scarcely breathing.
There was no name beneath the awaiting space where I would leave my own fingerprint.
Knowing what had snagged and stolen my focus, Florian murmured, “You need not have a name. Your blood is all that is required.” His heat enveloped as he moved in behind me. He shifted my heavy hair to one shoulder to graze his lips against my ear. “Your blood is all that matters.”
A shiver rolled through me, and I felt him smile against my neck when he lowered his lips to it. My eyes nearly drifted closed, my shoulders loosening with a shaken breath. “Bite your finger, sweet creature, or”—another press of his lips, this time to my fluttering pulse—“I will gladly do it for you.”
Temptation couldn’t outweigh the song of trepidation screaming throughout my body.
“But...” This was real. This faerie king was truly asking me to promise myself to him in marriage. “When will we marry?”
“When I decide it’s time, of course.”
Of course.
Really, it wasn’t as if it mattered. This contract would bind me to him in the same way a marriage contract would.
I closed my eyes and attempted to call forth all the questions I’d planned to ask, but they were jumbled and useless, and I knew he’d have an answer to all. “Where will I live?”
“At Hellebore Manor with me. Your rooms have already been prepared.”
The instantaneous answer shocked. It also reeked of startling honesty. But it was to be expected—that I would not share rooms with Florian. He was a king, and I was but a tool to secure his kingdom.
A tool he liked to play with.
Though it was for the best, a smudge of disappointment still spread. Stupid, considering I wasn’t ready for such a thing. Certainly not with a male who drew breath from my lungs with one word, one look, and one barely-there touch.
The contract blurred crimson and black as I recalled the images I’d glimpsed of Hellebore Manor within books. Its dazzling dark expanse was covered entirely in crawling blood-red ivy, the picturesque grounds in glowing snow.
I tried to resist losing myself to the awe of getting to see it all, and I promptly failed when I thought of living there.
Butterflies flooded my stomach. I cleared my throat and shook my head a little. Now was not the time for daydreams. I had to keep my feet and heart planted firmly on the ground. “How will you help me find my family?”
Florian was silent for a long moment, but his heat still warmed my back. “Should you have any, then I will have my people begin the search for the answers you seek immediately.”
“And if I wish to seek those answers myself?”
He hummed. “I suppose you may, though you will be confined to my kingdom.”
Something told me he was already aware that if I had any family, they did not reside in Hellebore. That perhaps he’d already done some searching of his own. Though that didn’t mean I couldn’t at least discover where they might be and do what I could to reach them.
