22. The Necessary Evil #5
Surin's pale blue eyes met Kael's electric blue ones. "She will see you as a monster regardless of how gentle we are, Your Majesty. She is not a forgiving soul, she is a firebrand. You already know this."
Kael let out a soft huff of laughter, almost shy, and his face lit up with the memory of her audacity and flame. That defiant look in her eyes. The way she'd dared him with a single glance.
"Lei," he said quietly, warmth bleeding into his voice. "Zis is truth." He stepped back from the door, gesturing for Surin to proceed. "Go. Make it quick."
Surin nodded once, his hand trembling slightly as it moved to the door handle.
Behind him, soldiers formed a wall. Kings watched. And on the other side of that door, Malec had no idea his world was about to burn.
The chamber was quiet except for the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth. Evening light spilled through the tall windows, painting the room in shades of amber and gold. On the low table beside the settee, the marriage contract lay rolled and sealed, waiting.
Melodie sat tucked against Malec's chest, her back pressed to him, his arms wrapped loosely around her waist. He rocked her gently, a slow, rhythmic motion that felt more instinctive than intentional.
His chin rested on top of her head, and a small, content smile curved his mouth.
For the first time in what felt like forever, his shoulders weren't rigid with tension. His hands weren't clenched into fists.
He was simply holding her. And she was letting him.
"Will Vaeril have my last name too?" Melodie asked, her voice quiet but curious.
"Of course," Malec said without hesitation. "He is after all a Jak-soon."
The pronunciation was so mangled that Melodie burst into laughter, her whole body shaking against him. "Oh my god, Malec. It's Jaxxon. Not 'Jack-soon.' You're making my last name sound like a bad sneeze."
"I am trying," he protested, though his smile widened. "Your language is... difficult."
"You need to learn it," she teased, tilting her head back to look up at him. "Or I'm going to talk shit about you to my people and you won't be able to defend yourself."
Malec chuckled, the sound low and warm in his chest. He reached up and brushed a thick curl back from her face, his fingers lingering against her temple. "Then I suppose I have no choice but to become fluent."
Melodie settled against him, her voice softening. “Thank you,” she said. “You actually listened and decided to support me through this. That means a lot.”
Malec's hand stilled in her hair. "I should have been doing that from the start."
She turned slightly in his arms, just enough to see his profile. "Why didn't you? Why didn't you treat me like a soulbound from the beginning?"
Malec let out a slow sigh, his gaze drifting toward the window. "Because I am an Awyan male?—"
"Not that that's an excuse to be a dick," Melodie cut in.
His lips twitched despite himself. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head before continuing.
"No, my love, it is not. But it is one of the reasons why I reacted the way I did.
We Awyans in Ulvareth are culturally taught that Canariae are beneath us.
They can be used for bodily pleasure, labor, or companionship, but to treat one as an equal is...
" He paused, the word heavy on his tongue.
"Disgraceful. It makes one look weak. And I thought, at one point, that was true. "
Melodie was quiet for a moment. Then, with perfect comedic timing: "What changed your mind? Was it the awesome sex?"
Malec's face turned horrified. He grabbed a bunch of skin on her upper arm and pinched playfully, indignant. "Mel... language. Stop degrading yourself. I will not tolerate it."
She laughed, bright and unrepentant, and he couldn't help but smile.
"Well, I mean," she continued, gesturing vaguely, "you totally changed after that. Your demeanor went from being okay with me getting tortured to all of a sudden I was getting really nice clothes and—" She gestured toward her groin.
Malec sighed and caught her hands mid-gesture, stopping the lewd motion. "You need to learn better language if you are to raise a proper Awyan-Canariae child. You act the same as a child yourself, sometimes.”
Melodie saluted him mockingly. "Aye aye, grandpa. I forget you're like a thousand years old."
Malec laughed, pulling her closer. "I am not nearly that old. But yes, Awyans age slower than Canariae. I have been around longer than you and your grandparents combined."
Melodie sat up then, turning to face him properly. Her expression shifted, the playfulness draining away. "Malec, I know Surion is going to do something. I can feel it. He said as much to me. In my ear. At that party he made me go to when I pissed him off."
Malec's face went stoic. Beneath the calm exterior, she could see the gears turning, calculating threats and possibilities. "What exactly did he say, and why did you not tell me before?"
Melodie gave him a look. The ‘you're doing that thing again’ look.
He straightened, adjusting his approach. "I mean... this is vital information I need to know. You should share it with me so that I can protect you accordingly. Please, tell me what he said."
Melodie decided that was a good enough correction. "He said I was going to pay for the humiliation. And he strikes me as someone who never forgives or forgets."
Malec stiffened. "That is because he does not, Mel.
This is why I told you we needed to go north.
This is not just a threat. It is a promise.
He is a sneaky weasel and will find a way around me, which is why I need to know everything that could be a possible threat so I can be prepared.
" He pinched the bridge of his nose, irritation and anxiety bleeding through.
His mind was already racing through possibilities, schemes Surion might be plotting.
Melodie leaned in, pouting theatrically, her lips quivering in exaggerated sadness. "Are you mad at me?"
Malec looked down at those big dark eyes and immediately melted.
"I can never be. Which is my problem. It is why I let you get away with everything.” He pulled her closer, his smile soft and genuine.
Slowly, he leaned in for a kiss, his eyes searching hers as though asking permission.
Melodie thought he was being adorable. She started to close the distance, her lips parting slightly as she tilted her head.
The door handle turned. The creak of hinges echoed through the quiet chamber.
They froze, lips a breath apart.
Surin stepped inside without warning or ceremony. He knew Malec would be furious at the intrusion, but fury was the least of what he would face tonight. Surin wanted…no, needed to see his son one last time like this—whole, at peace, happy—before he ripped it all away.
Before he destroyed what Malec had become to save who he used to be.
Malec sat on the settee near the window, Melodie nestled against his chest, her head tucked beneath his jaw.
One of his hands stroked her wild curls with a gentleness that looked foreign on him, the other resting over her thigh in quiet possession.
He looked different, softened. As though he'd found a moment of peace he never thought possible.
The marriage contract lay on the table beside them, rolled and sealed. Proof of their future together.
A future Surin was about to erase.
Guilt knifed through him so sharply it nearly brought him to his knees. His conscience screamed that what he was about to do was wrong, unforgivable. But the decision had already been made. There was no turning back now. This would solve everything. It had to.
Because the only other path led to watching his son wage war against kings and nations for the sake of one Canariae, a battle that would almost certainly end with his death.
Then Malec looked up.
His pale tan eyes cut to his father and narrowed instantly, all warmth gone from them. The peace evaporated like smoke. His body went rigid, protective. "Surin," Malec said, his voice low, edged in warning. "What is this?"
Surin closed the door behind him with a soft click. He looked tired. Older than Malec had ever seen him, fine lines creased around his eyes, and his mouth worked soundlessly before words finally came.
"I need to speak with you," Surin said, his voice thick and heavy. "It's urgent."
Malec’s hand tightened once around Melodie’s thigh before easing again. He bent toward her ear and whispered a quiet promise meant for her alone. She nodded slightly, though confusion faltered across her face. He pressed a lingering kiss to her temple, an affection that should have been ordinary.
But it struck Surin like a dagger through the ribs. Because he knew. This was the last time his son would kiss her.
The sight cut him open. Memories surged without warning.
Malec as a child, gripping a wooden practice blade far too large for his small hands, his face already hardened with determination at five years old.
Malec at fifteen, stoic while his knuckles split open from endless drills, refusing to stop even once.
Malec at war, commanding armies like a storm given form, every strategy ruthless and precise.
Through every stage of his life the pattern had remained the same.
His son endured everything in dignified honor, carrying himself like carved stone.
Until her.
Melodie had accomplished what no one else could.
Malec had been forced to face his inner self, to confront the obsession and control that ruled him.
Reflection came, then change, then growth.
No other creature alive could have driven such transformation.
The walls even Surin had failed to breach, this slip of a girl had broken through entirely.
His son had become whole in ways Surin hadn't known were possible.
And now he was going to take it all away.
The choice had nothing to do with punishment or cruelty; it was the only way left to save his life.