Our Vicious Oaths, page 41
“Yes, I am insisting we talk now,” she said, not deigning to give an explanation for her abrupt shift. She looked pointedly at Malachi’s Marking but kept her hands to herself, since touching it so plainly made him incorrigible. “Our Markings are making you—the both of us, actually—not think clearly at times,” she said. “I was a hairsbreadth away from begging you to fuck me during the ceremony and there’s no way I should’ve ended up in your bed again after it. This”—she wildly motioned to the bed—“isn’t a smart place for me to be, given everything. And you certainly don’t truly feel any of what your statements about the vows and blood exchange and the babe I’ll eventually birth hinted at. This dance we’ve been doing began as political maneuverings, and whatever you and I are at this moment and will become in the future are still precisely that. So, as I said, the Markings are screwing with our minds. If we see that clearly, then we can work to mitigate their effects moving forward for the benefit of us both.”
“You speak of the future as if you envision me remaining alive long after Rishaud is dead. But you intend to kill me afterward, do you not, love?” Somehow, Malachi’s thumb had found her Marking during his question, and he was tracing maddening circles over the spot. She bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw blood, using the pain to hold back any treacherous shivers.
She raised her chin. “Isn’t that what you would’ve ultimately intended for me if not for the inconvenience of me carrying your child and heir at present? But what happens on your part after I’ve given birth to the babe? Don’t pretend you meant for me to live past my usefulness either.”
She didn’t know if it was to Malachi’s credit or further evidence of how much of a bastard he was that he didn’t deny the charge. “What I aim and do not aim to do moving forward have changed,” he simply said.
She scoffed. “I am many things. A dick-enthralled fool is not one of them. I can and will continue to see things pragmatically beyond good sex.”
Malachi grunted as if she’d slipped a dagger between his ribs. “You referring to my dick as merely good is an egregious offense against the crown.”
She barked out a laugh before she could help herself. “You’re insufferable,” she let him know. She meant to slap his arm to stress the point, but when her hand made contact with the smooth, tantalizing dark brown flesh, her fingers curled around his massive bicep on their own accord. When the image flashed before her eyes of her clinging onto his biceps while he drove into her, she knew that the Marking was definitely jacking with her mind as much as his. Why, in all the skies, would she go there given their current topic of conversation was their future plans to kill each other? She blinked to scatter the image before her body reacted and encouraged Malachi to action. Focus, she scolded herself. She cleared her throat, then restated, “Our Markings, as I was saying, they—”
“Play only a nominal part in what’s evolved between us,” Malachi said emphatically. “They don’t make sentiments manifest that aren’t already brewing to begin with. Which is why the matter of most importance, Kadeesha, is your plan to kill me. How do you mean to go about it?”
Before she could answer—or deflect, rather—she found herself yelping when he lifted her without warning, rolled on his back, and positioned her so she straddled him once more. “Will you be riding my cock in the near future,” he murmured, rocking against her core, “and plunge a dagger into my heart and then take my head?” He flipped them again. She landed on her back with a grunt as Malachi’s delicious weight pressed her body into the bed. He dragged his nose along the column of her throat, leaving a blazing trail from the bottom tip of her ear to her collarbone. Her nipples painfully hardened when he nibbled her Marking. “Or do you plan to be beneath me and sink your teeth into my vein and bleed me dry in order to incapacitate me?” he asked against her throat. His hands hooked behind her knees and pushed her legs up and outward. He settled them around his waist, her heels resting against the tight globes of his ass. “Or will you burn me alive while I’m lost to the ecstasy of being between your lush thighs? Any of those three ways seems like a fantastic way to die. However, I’d be partial to the latter, if you care to know.” He splayed his left hand beside her head and his right hand collected hers. He laced their fingers together and lifted her hand to his chest. He let her go only to collect her wrist in an iron grip and hold her splayed hand to the skin that covered his heart.
“Whatever you intend, do it now,” he said, angling his head so he bared his throat completely to her. “Incinerate me. Tear out my jugular. Pierce my heart. Take my head. Do what you will, wife. You’ll get no resistance from me.”
Aether flames sparked at her fingertips and rippled along the digits. She didn’t truly burn Malachi, who’d certainly gone mad … yet. For now, she only let the heat lick mildly against his skin as she said, “Obviously, you’d put up a fight. You’re not the sort to allow anyone to strike at you without attacking back. I’m not falling for whatever mindfuck this is. Nor will you cow me by laying out what you think you know of my designs.”
“Of all the fae that populate the realm, do you know how many I actually believe possess enough cunning, raw magical strength or brute strength to quite possibly kill me if they set their minds to it?” he asked instead of responding to her statement. “My auntie Nychelle, my cousin Trystin, each member of my Cadre … and you, Kadeesha. That’s the mark by which I consider someone a true equal and worthy ally. Nychelle and Trystin are both shrewd enough to have a good shot at taking me out if they sought my crown for themselves. My Cadre, they run the gamut. But nobody except you, my lovely wife, possesses all three attributes. Therefore, before you decide irrevocably that we will eventually clash to the death, I’d like to offer up a different future for us and hand you proof that my words are genuine.”
“Why are we even playing this hypothetical game?”
“Because you and I both know it’s not so hypothetical. But,” he said, holding up a hand to cut off her protest, “if you insist on it being moot, so be it. Indulge me, then.”
She said nothing, and he took that as a sign to continue.
“In the future I offer, you could be my wife, my high queen, in more than a transient or surface-level capacity. After I’ve killed Rishaud, I would ask that you truly rule beside me as the high queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Truly bear and then raise our heir beside me as high queen.”
She … Well, she didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t be earnest; there was no way. “I thought you’d go about things in a craftier way than this,” she at last said. “If you think so highly of my competencies, why do you imagine I’d fall for such a simple trap?” she countered. And the more she weighed it, the more insulted she became.
A muscle worked in Malachi’s jaw. “You’re the most bullish female I’ve ever met, do you know that?” He let go of her wrist and brushed his fingers along her neck before squeezing it lightly. His hold on her throat wasn’t forceful enough to actually restrict her air supply, but she sucked in a breath all the same. “If I still aimed to kill you, I could’ve done so while you lay in my bed this night. You’ve already convinced the vassal kings of the advantages to recognizing me as their high king instead of Rishaud that go beyond bullshit prophecies, and I could spin that to my advantage. I could kill you right here and keep them in the dark about your demise until they’ve sworn fealty oaths. But I have not moved to harm you, nor will I. My inaction when it would behoove me to get rid of the warrior female who seeks to move against me sooner rather than later should be all the proof of my earnestness you need.”
“You mean you could’ve tried,” she countered. Kadeesha’s pride demanded she remind Malachi of what he’d just admitted about how much of a threat she was.
His lips twitched. “My point remains the same, wife.” He let go of her neck and abruptly kissed her. She didn’t even think about it; she opened for him automatically as soon as his tongue swept against her mouth.
Just kill him now, a voice urged, managing to slice its way through the smoldering desire that flared. His guard is down and he’s toying with you. He doesn’t believe you’ll raise a hand against him. At least not this day. Alongside the voice, Kadeesha saw the alternative path before her that she could easily take. As Malachi had just pointed out, she’d already done the work of convincing the vassal kings of the immense value that lay within supporting a monarch other than Rishaud. She, and she alone, could be that other monarch. She could leverage the fact that the prophecy imparted her firstborn son would inherit a united Nimani and force the kings to accept a woman ruling over them until that time came. She didn’t need Malachi to see that end through and reign as high queen in order to ensure her kingdom and now her future child were protected. The vassal kings might’ve expressed reticence against being embroiled in a war they had no stake in, but it wouldn’t be too difficult to convince them of the merit of taking up arms against Rishaud if Malachi was out of the picture. With the collective might and armies of the other monarchs and the entirety of the Aether Court’s kongamato squadron on her side, she likely could face Rishaud herself and win—all while still sparing excessive bloodshed. The Hyperion Kingdom, and it alone, would take the brunt of the ravages of war—
But even as this swirled through her mind, Malachi deepened their kiss, and it was too much. It shattered her line of thinking. This male had a way of seeping into every inch of her psyche, overwhelming her senses, drowning her in need, and making her see things from a vantage point she wouldn’t otherwise consider. For instance, at that very moment, the inconvenient fact that she carried his child, would birth his child even after she slew him, buzzed inside her mind. She’d been certain she could abide only one outcome for her and Malachi. But what if he was being genuine with everything he’d just offered?
But what if he isn’t? the ever-cautioning voice insisted.
She couldn’t quite shake the lingering reservation. She broke their kiss, breathing erratically as her pulse whooshed in her ears. An innate knowing told her she perched on a perilously high precipice, one where utter devastation and doom lay ahead versus a cushioned landing, all depending on the side of the cliff she plunged off of. She closed her eyes for a moment to gather her wits, firmly root herself in some semblance of sensibleness. After a brief time, she opened her eyes and asked Malachi, “What would you and I ruling together as true equals look like, given that we don’t always see eye to eye about your sometimes-brutal ways?”
“That means we balance each other out and are the perfect complements,” Malachi answered with ease. His hands found their way to her belly. He cupped her stomach as if it were already swollen with their child growing rapidly inside. A feeling she couldn’t quite name, but one that felt like a fist squeezing around her heart, erupted behind Malachi’s tender caress. He’d never handled her in that way before—like she was an immense treasure that he cherished. “Tell me,” he said, “all of your reasons for not being disposed to become my true high queen and the high queen of all Nimani.”
Kadeesha gave him a look, shaking off the absurd sentimentality that had struck her. “Chiefly, there’s the fact that you will usurp Rishaud only to replace him as the pitiless bastard whom others bow to. And it’ll be made all the worse by the fact that you despise southern fae. I’ll concede that you treat your own people in a mostly just fashion and make decisions with the well-being of the whole of your Apollyonfolk as a priority. But I find it impossible to believe you will extend such graciousness to my folk, the Aether fae, or any other among the southern lands. And since I will not allow innocent fae to fall victim to whatever ill treatment you feel is owed because of the grudge you hold, and I certainly will not be a participating or complicit party in the subjugation of innocents, I can’t imagine this working.”
Malachi’s hands hadn’t moved from her belly. He held her there not only tenderly, but protectively. His eyes radiated the same fierce protectiveness, and it stole her breath. “I don’t despise all southern fae. At least, not anymore,” he said quietly. “And to be clear: I’ll adore our child. Spoil them. Serve them not only a throne but the entire continent and whatever else they desire on a silver platter. There’s your mother, and Leisha, and the rest of your Nkita too. They have all shown themselves to be admirable and formidable. When my Apollyonfolk were attacked, they assisted the injured, and they forever have my gratitude. Then there is you, Kadeesha Diamundis. You’ve done more than help when my court was in dire straits. You, a southern fae, spoke up for a young Apollyon boy and his mother when you thought I’d pass harsh judgement upon them. And when I was set on annihilating all fae of Niyarre and Tareek blood no matter their guilt, you leveled a censuring look on me that was the only reason I decided differently. You were a voice for faefolk, yet again, who are not your own. If that wasn’t enough, during Rishaud’s latest assault, you marched into fire to help rescue Apollyon survivors. And none of this even begins to mention how you are ferociously independent and frighteningly powerful and a queen as much as you are a warrior.
“I’ve been resistant, refusing to take a wife until now because I couldn’t bear the torment of failing that wife or any of our future children as my father did with my mother. In the end, he simply wasn’t strong enough to protect his family or his court.”
The pressure in Kadeesha’s chest had intensified with each admission, each truth, Malachi lay bare. At his mention of witnessing his parents’ murders at such a tender age, Kadeesha’s heart broke for the small child he’d been who’d been plunged into the middle of vicious political plots and bloodshed. She reached for Malachi, wrapping her arms around his back, hugging him. “No child should ever have to see their parents die such violent deaths or be stricken with horror that they’re next,” she said as quietly as Malachi had been speaking.
He smiled but it held little mirth. “I agree. And yet again you prove how magnificent you are because you’re able to extend me compassion for an act that I myself visited upon you. I cannot say I am sorry for what I did, but I am sorry for the grief I caused you, if that matters to you at all.”
“It matters,” she said softly, warring emotions thick in her throat.
Malachi moved from holding her stomach to caressing it. Amid the weighted silence that stretched between them, his gaze held a far-off, cloudy look, as if he was seeing the past instead of the present.
When the murkiness cleared, he said gruffly, “If you’re pregnant and keeping the babe, then I’ve already failed to avoid gaining a family that I must protect at all costs. Which means there’s no use trying to fight or deny the urge I’ve had since our first meeting.”
She was afraid to ask, but somehow whispered, “Which is?”
“That I want you, and I don’t just mean your body,” he clarified in a tone that was as fervent as it was frank. “Since Oleander House, you’ve invaded every part of my being. You occupy my thoughts constantly. When we’re together, when we’re apart, when we’re fighting, when we’re fucking, when we’re bickering, when we’re talking, when we’re dining—it doesn’t matter the occasion, I am driven mad with desire for you in every instance. When I think of a high queen who is worthy of the title and the Apollyon crown, that vision of who I’d want to reign beside me as my equal match in every way is you and only you. And when I think of us being on separate sides, facing each other in a fight in the near future, it leaves me knowing with no uncertainty that I am well and truly fucking doomed. There’s no way I’d lift a hand to harm you. I’d sooner fall to my knees and accept whatever death you dole out.”
“Why?” It wasn’t quite a laugh that he responded with, and she could sense the frustration coming from this male, a vulnerability she never thought she’d see from him.
“Because I love you, Kadeesha. I’m not positive precisely when it happened, but it did, and now I will rip the realm and everything in it to shreds to keep you at my side. So tell me what I must give you to make that happen. Will it take me swearing a binding oath? One that promises to treat your kingdom as I would my own when we rule as one? If so, I’ll speak the proper words right now.”
She … Any words were beyond her as Malachi waited for a response. Great Celestials, she was barely able to form coherent thoughts. Malachi was not a male she’d ever imagine making a grand declaration of love to anyone. Yet, he just did. To her. And he’d just as freely offered to swear a binding vow without asking for anything in return, without diving into their usual harried bargaining. He … he’d said he loved her. Did he truly? Moreover, did she love him? The answer to the first question was apparent in the depths of his gaze and by the very fact that he would freely share his crown with her and swear an oath that threw aside his lifelong plan of vengeance. As for the second question …
She finally stopped fighting a truth she’d been battling for too long.
“Yes, swear the oath. Not only about the Aether Kingdom, but promise that treatment for all of the Six Kingdoms and the innocent fae dwelling within them,” she said, arms still locked around his back as he held himself up on his arms so they gazed directly at one another. “I was prepared to kill you and would have if I had to. But a part of me started rebelling at the idea somewhere along the way,” she admitted to both herself and him. Because something had become clear for her: Malachi would never be some bastion of virtue. But that was also an impossible standard, because no fae monarch would ever be that, including herself. To rule, to amass and wield and retain power, meant there was always some necessity for brutality. And if she was being completely honest with herself, she appreciated he was a multifaceted king, even if she disagreed with some of his tactics at times. Yes, she’d seen him vicious and bloodthirsty. But she’d also seen him generous and benevolent. And another unabashed truth was that she wasn’t merely enthralled with both sides of this man; she loved all sides of him. She loved Malachi in every face he donned because each one was him. Plus, she could be two sides of the same coin herself depending on the situation. But … when she’d been dangerously leaning too heavily one way after Samira’s injury, Malachi had helped her lean back the other; he’d given her a safe haven to spend the worst of her rage. And he’d admitted that she’d tempered his wrath during the challenge feast.
