Chapter 8 #3
At least, that was what I told myself when his mouth returned to mine.
Just as I’d done to him, Brey kissed me gently, as if wishing to savor how my mouth felt against his. Then, after a minute or maybe many of them, he carefully opened my lips with his and inhaled sharply.
The sound that climbed his throat to join his exhale was pure animal.
I melted. I became nothing but an overheated puddle held in his lap as he explored my mouth with a slowness that ought to have been strange. As he moved his lips over mine with rubbing strokes and teasing presses that should have made me retreat and ask what game he might be playing.
Instead, I was greedy for more.
And the more he kissed me, the more I understood that this wasn’t a kiss.
This was a greeting so sensual, I felt it in places I’d never felt a kiss before—in my heating blood and between my thighs and in my curling bare toes.
Gooseflesh pebbled every inch of my skin.
When he finally used his tongue, he did so tentatively. To taste and to tickle. His top teeth pushed into my lower lip, too gently to draw blood or hurt. Like fingers, his lips moved against and over my own in sweeps and barely there caresses.
A bang opened my eyes. Another had me easing back from Brey.
My blood chilled. I knew it wasn’t Ferla who stood at the door before I looked.
Maxus didn’t so much as incline his head for his king. He glowered. “I need a word.” Voice gruff, he added belatedly, “Ethel.”
I couldn’t keep from tensing.
Feeling it, Brey asked, “Problem?”
“No.” My gaze stayed on the guard I’d avoided since the betrothal ball as I said, sweetly and between my teeth, “Not if you leave right now, Maxus.”
“I’m afraid I cannot do that without first sharing a message.” A quick look was given to Brey. “Would you like me to do so while in the presence of the king?”
My stomach shrank. “Is it sensitive?” I asked tightly. “This message.”
“Extremely,” Maxus seethed.
I wanted to believe he wouldn’t dare say something foolish in front of my betrothed—in front of the vampire king. But the anger illuminating the orange eyes that refused to leave me had me rising from Brey’s lap.
Before I could take a single step, Brey caught my hand, forcing me to turn back.
He searched my face. Whatever he saw there caused his brows to sink. As he glanced at the guard in the doorway, his jaw clenched. Eyes returning to me, he said without care for his tone, “You needn’t do as he says.”
But I did need to.
For some reason, the idea of Brey learning about Maxus made me intensely uncomfortable. A mere hour ago—if it wouldn’t have landed me in trouble with my father—I’d have loved to tell him all about the guard simply to irritate him.
That was before he’d muddied these treacherous waters by kissing me in ways that had me questioning if I’d ever truly been kissed.
“He’s my father’s favorite henchman.” I shrugged. “And I try to avoid encounters with my father’s temper.”
I’d just cleared the door and released a tremulous exhale when my hand was snatched.
Maxus tugged me down the hall and into another.
Then another.
As we passed the open doors to the dining room, the staff setting the table for dinner looked over. I prayed they didn’t see anything. That they’d looked too late to notice the guard gripping my hand.
I tried to pull it free. “Release me.”
He didn’t.
Only once we’d reached the other side of the manor did he finally let me go. In a hall seldom walked due to its proximity to nothing but my father’s unused study, Maxus stopped and turned to me. “You were fucking kissing him.”
“I’ll need to do far more than kiss him.” I crossed my arms. “He’s to be my husband. My bonded.”
Fury curled his upper lip. “Six evenings,” he said. “It’s been six evenings since your fancy little ball and the meeting you never came to.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve scarcely left my rooms since that fancy little ball.”
“Because you’re avoiding me.”
“Because I’m avoiding everyone.”
He scowled. “Everyone except for the king.”
Fine. We would need to have this conversation now, then. I didn’t want to have it at all, but I also didn’t wish to deal with more situations like this in the coming weeks—the sort of jealousy that inevitably led to attempts to control me. Few things made me tire of men faster.
“Max,” I sighed. “I am born and you are made.” A gentle way of reminding him that I had my purpose and he had his, and they would never intertwine. “Whether this ends now or later, it will end. We’ve always known that.”
“You want it to end?” Rough words that accompanied a violent twist of his features.
Truthfully, I didn’t know. I couldn’t decide if it was the thought of him finding another, such as Clovia, that made me so uncertain, or if it was merely the thought of losing a piece of my life before I had to.
I wasn’t married yet.
Regardless, everyone knew that noblemen, even some women, kept lovers. We married to breed. For pedigree and permanence. Certainly not for devotion.
And certainly not for love.
What the king had dared to suggest still baffled me. Haunted me.
Perhaps so many years of reclusiveness and his ability to shift into a cat meant Brey didn’t think like the rest of us. It might also mean that we would need to have a conversation about lovers.
Unsure what to say, nor what I wanted, I simply said, “The king is waiting for me.”
Maxus’s brows nearly met. “That doesn’t answer my question, Ethel.”
“I need to go.”
“So just say it.” He crowded me against the wall. “Say you don’t want this to end.”
“Or what?” I teased and smiled up at him.
Apparently, my usual antics would not be tolerated right now.
Maxus growled, low and with a menacing glow in his eyes. The scar in his cheek tightened as his jaw clenched. “This is happening, Ethel, and I’d rather rip off his pretty head than allow it, but I am powerless here.”
My chest caught fire.
“Max,” I rasped. “I don’t know—”
“Ethel.” He swallowed. “Just fucking say it.”
His refusal to yield, as well as the desperation gritting his tone, shocked me, and I knew I couldn’t leave him this way. One didn’t climb so high up the chain of command by making reckless choices, yet the anger heaving his chest…
Perhaps, just like his loyalty to my father, his control ended with me.
My hands shook. I flattened them against the stone behind me. That fire in my chest remained. My stomach felt strangely hollow.
Staring up at Maxus, I feared what he might do.
He’d already rudely interrupted the king’s visit and forced me to leave him. He didn’t know that Brey wouldn’t speak to my father about this. He wasn’t thinking.
Or he didn’t care.
But I had nothing to give him. No promise I could keep. At a loss, I forced my hands to grip his stiff blue coat. Forced my features to soften as I searched his orange eyes and thought of something to say.
But his own face didn’t relax. The anger in his gaze wouldn’t dull. And when he held my waist tight between both hands, my hollow stomach filled with ice-cold panic.
It was no longer thrilling—possessing something I’d stolen from my father. No longer excitingly illicit.
Now, my tiny victory felt mildly terrifying.
Lie, instinct screamed.
So I did. “I don’t want it to end.” Swaying into him, I trailed a finger down the silver buttons of his coat. “But I’m trying to be more careful because of this…” I waved my hand about. “Situation my father has put us all in.”
His hold on my waist eased.
“I know.” Exhaling a heavy breath, he placed a kiss on my forehead. “Fuck, I know. I’ve just missed you.”
“I’m surprised you’ve had the time,” I said, though it was far from wise to bring this up now—when I had to leave. “Given the attention Clovia has shown you.”
Maxus tensed.
My hand left his chest, and I gazed up at him. “Did she tell you about the king’s visit on her way out?”
A single nod. “I haven’t touched her. Wait.” He stepped back. “Is that why you haven’t met me at the barn?” Humorless, he laughed. “Because your friend got bored at your ball and tried to fuck me?”
“No,” I quickly said, as it was mostly true.
“Un-fucking-believable.” Shaking his head, he said, “You’re all as bad as each other, you know that?”
My annoyance and fear got the better of me. “Standing in this hallway with you is unbelievable. Threatening me in front of the king is unbelievable, Max.” I tried to gentle my tone. “This isn’t a game. This is my life.”
Though I could see a harsh rebuttal reshaping his fearsome features, he said nothing.
“You need to go,” I whispered, a smile playing on my lips. “Before the sun rises and your numerous talents are reduced to ash and bone.”
Maxus wasn’t amused. He rarely ever was. Unblinking and severe, he continued to watch me.
Then he finally marched down the hall.
At the end, he stopped. Quiet and gruff, he said, “This isn’t a game for me either, Ethel. It never was.”
For a moment, I just stared at where he’d stood. Shocked and uncomfortable, I dragged my fingers through my hair. They trembled, and I scowled at them until they stilled.
What an infuriating mess.
I didn’t like mess. Other people’s, certainly. After all, many messes became better currency than gold. But never had I made such a valuable mess of my own.
When I returned, the king was no longer in the paint parlor.
A slight panic increased my steps through the halls until I eventually found him in the foyer.
Just as he’d done on the evening of our betrothal ball, he leaned against the stairs with his ankles crossed. His gaze remained on the red floor as he said, “I trust all is well?”
Though mild—casually spoken—those words birthed an unexpected and icy fear.
It spread through me, freezing my tongue, as I wondered what he might be assuming. I tried to defrost it by reminding myself that I didn’t give a rot about this duplicitous king nor his assumptions. That he could think whatever he wished about Maxus and me.
It didn’t work.
“Of course.” With feigned confusion, I asked, “Why wouldn’t it be?”
He appeared to smirk at the tiles. “If looks could kill, a dagger would’ve entered my chest the moment that guard laid eyes on me in the parlor.
You do not owe me anything, lethal.” His eyes rose.
Within them lurked a darkness I hadn’t seen before.
“But I would appreciate knowing if he’s someone I need to be concerned about. ”
“A guard?” I laughed. It sounded as forced as it was. “Is it you who mightn’t be well, Majesty?”
“Honestly…” Rubbing his hand over a sardonic smile, he straightened from the stairs. “Maybe.”
My next breath faltered, and I frowned.
Brey crossed the foyer. As he did, those dark eyes never strayed from my face. “I came here because I’ve been impatient to see you.” Stopping before me, he said, “And because I have something of a proposition for you.”
I grinned. “I just knew you had an ulterior motive.”
His eyes returned to their usual emerald hue.
“One week.” Taking my chin, he tilted it until my gaze clashed with his.
“Spend one week with me at the palace. After that, if you still don’t want this marriage, then once we are bonded and we’ve fed the wards, you can live as you please.
” Intentionally, he waited before saying, “Wherever you please.”
My heart stopped.
Then it restarted with a painful thud as what he’d said barreled into me with the force of a harsh wind. “Wherever I please?”
Freedom. True freedom.
Nodding once, he stroked my chin.
I fought a shiver. “How can I trust that you will keep your word?” Searching his divine face, I asked, “That you will let me go?”
His mouth quirked but failed to curl. “I suppose you can’t, lethal.”
Unnerved by his enticing nearness and offer, the memory of being kissed by him, I was tempted to agree and sway closer. But I clasped his wrist and lowered his hand before releasing it. “I need to think about this.”
Futile, really. There was no better option. The only alternative to his offer was being stuck with him in the palace forever. Yet I couldn’t surrender so quickly.
He seemed to know that.
After moments that had me torn between kissing and questioning him further, he said, “Of course.” He leaned down. “Just know that if you fail to visit me before the wedding…” His lips brushed the corner of my mouth as he murmured, “I get to keep you afterward.”
He then strode through the doors without another word or a backward glance.
Mystified, I lingered in the foyer long after his carriage had taken to the waking sky.