Chapter 25
Mal stilled.
Her heartbeat flickered. And then stopped. Maeve wasn’t moving. Abraxas held her closely, frantically, as her head rolled limply back. Astrea moved quickly across the hall towards Maeve.
His heart pounded slowly as Abraxas spoke.
“She’s not breathing.”
Mal’s hands tensed as blood drained from his face. He couldn’t feel her Magic at all.
Mumford had Moon shackled by now, steel restraints laid with moonstone to numb his Magic.
He was crying. Already begging for his life.
Astrea began working over Maeve. Chanting spells Mal didn’t recognize. Healing was never his speciality.
He could feel Roswyn’s Magic, willing Maeve not to wake. His hatred for her was unbridled. And then a shift, as Roswyn realized that Maeve’s demise meant Mal himself would come completely unhinged. He’d tear the world apart until there was nothing left if she was gone.
She was his. She would always be his.
Astrea worked in vain. Maeve still wasn’t breathing.
Little Viper , Mal called silently.
The magic of his that ran through her darkened veins did not answer.
Astrea was panicking now, pure fear radiating from her. Fear of losing the girl her brother loved at her own hands, and fear of Mal. She knew his wrath would be unending if she failed to save her.
Little Viper , he called silently again as he stepped towards her.
Abraxas was praying now, to whom Mal did not know, but he prayed over his cousin in an ancient and purely magical tongue, reciting it as though he had known the words since he was a child.
Each one of them held their breath as Mal passed.
Astrea screamed in frustration as Mal reached them.
“Give her to me, Abraxas.”
Abraxas looked up at Mal defiantly, tears swelling up in the corners of his eyes. He gripped Maeve tightly and stifled a cry. This was his first time seeing his beloved cousin at the threshold of death.
But it was not Mal’s.
Mal took her body in his arms and gently pulled her away from Abraxas. Her Magic was cold, barely there, like a stifled fire begging to be rekindled.
He was gone before any of them could blink.
Mal cradled her body against his, pressing his Magic into her.
Maeve’s eyes were wide as she looked up at him. One large breath swelled in her chest and Mal’s insides shook with relief.
Maeve opened her mouth to speak, but Mal sunk his lips into hers fiercely. She sucked in sharply through her nose as he forced her mouth open wide. He pulled away from her and brushed the back of his finger down her cheek, trailing down her neck and across her black filled veins.
“Was I dead?”
He pressed his forehead against hers. “Close to it.”
Her Magic cascaded around him, thanking him. He sucked it in like a starving man.
He was starved of her.
“Where are we?” She asked.
Mal didn’t move to show her , wanting nothing in that moment but to keep holding her, feeling her Magic as it was meant to be: unyielding.
“I am not sure what this place is,” he answered. “But the Magic here is alive.”
Maeve turned her head from him. Down pale white stairs were three trees that twisted together as one. They held small, shimmering leaves. The ceiling was carved with ancient markings.
“You aren’t angry with me?” She asked, turning back towards him.
Mal looked over her angelic face, her pale skin flushed pink.
“I couldn’t feel your Magic at all,” he said. “I’ve only felt such a level of dread twice in my life, when Vaukore fell and I thought I might lose you. . .when Kietel took you. And when you nearly drowned in those mountains.”
She looked up at him, her blue eyes swimming with regret.
“I can’t lose you, Little Viper,” he said. “It terrifies me what I would do if you were taken from me. I don’t think I could control my rage.”
Mal shook his head and looked up, a breathy sigh escaping him.
“I told you to stop before you broke, even if it meant we didn’t grab him this time.”
“But they would have known and he–”
Mal looked back down at her. “It was a command. What good is his death if it costs you your life?”
She paused and frowned. “I’m sorry.”
He sat her up so that they kneeled before one another.
“You swore an oath as my second, to honor and obey,” he said, no trace of anger in his voice. “You’re so rebellious, so brazen, and so cunning, and those traits draw me to you as they always have. But you will get yourself killed if you do not listen to your Magic. You knew you were close to breaking, and you failed to control your bloodlust. It is valuable, yes, like rage and fury. But you mustn’t let those things control you .” He pulled on the fabric around her neck, bringing her closer, and gripped the back of her head. “I will tear apart the fucking world without you.”
Magic slammed between them, and Maeve’s eyes fluttered to a close. She moaned in pleasure as his Magic swept over her.
Mal smiled triumphantly at his affect on her. His hands moved to her forearms, where he gripped tightly. He sent burning ice into her skin. She smiled and laughed audibly, tossing her head back and sighing sensually.
“How can I get through to you when pain delights you?” He asked with a smirk, pulling her closer.
Maeve looked up at him, and his breathing snagged at her enchanting expression. She was triumphantly gorgeous. Dark, beautiful, deep, and dirty Magic swam in her eyes. Those were his eyes. Those eyes that could halt him with one look. He was a man possessed. And if she ever pushed him away again, he’d show her just how much control he used each day not to succumb to the tortuous desires he had for her.
“Tell me more of how you will destroy the world over me,” she said with an angelic grin.
His chest tightened. He buried his lips in hers, dropping her arms and wrapping his own around her fully. She pressed into him, her lips smooth and ready against his.
Her fingers twisted through his raven hair. Mal breathed her in fully as they trailed over the back of his neck, bringing every hair to attention.
The ground was warm against his back as she pressed down on him.
His hands moved to her hips, pushing her down into him. Maeve’s soft moan was so satisfying to his ears, he did it again. And again. And again, until her lips pulled from him as he forced their bodies to grind together.
“Mal,” she whispered between sharp breaths.
His hold tightened and he sent Magic, soft as a feather, through his fingers. He wouldn’t be able to restrain for much longer. The throbbing need to reclaim her grew as she tossed her head back, exposing all her darkened veins that marked her as his.
He’d never intended to scar her in such a permanent way, but now, as her delicate fingers trailed sensually across her chest, he desired to mark her further.
Her eyes landed back on his.
“I should be punishing you for trying to run away from me,” he said, still sliding her hips in a torturous motion across his growing desire.
Maeve smiled.
And he lost control.
In a swirl of black Magic, their clothes were gone and his hands moved up her torso, gripping her throat. She tensed beneath his hold as he pulled her face to his. She was so warm, and already dripping against his hardened cock.
“Apologize,” he said darkly.
Her brows pulled together as her lips parted, desperately attempting to breathe. A high whine was the only sound that slipped from her as he constricted her airway.
I’m sorry , she slid across his mind.
“Sorry for what, Maeve?”
He moved his hips, thrusting forward, sliding his cock between her spread legs.
For trying to run.
Mal nodded, one hand loosening from her throat and moving to her face. He continued his slow thrusts beneath her. Each time the head of his cock flicked against her clit she dropped lower on him, writhing as much as his hold allowed.
“You cannot run from me,” he said, his fingers rolling over her pouting lips. “And if you do so again, I will make you crawl to me across the Throne Room for all to see.”
Her whine moved to her throat, groaning as his grip tightened.
He released his hold on her throat and moved swiftly to her waist, lifting her off him. His stomach tightened at the sight of her smooth skin gleaming, already wet from her own arousal as she suspended above him. Her long inhale was cut short by a cry, as Mal positioned himself at her entrance and pushed the tip of his cock inside her.
His neck rolled, forcing his head back and a sigh to escape his lips.
Maeve’s hands grabbed his biceps, clinging to them desperately as he stretched her.
The desire to slam into her raced across his mind. To bury himself so deeply within her, she’d never have the chance to run again. He’d failed her. And he would not do so again.
She moved her hands lower, dragging them across his chest.
His muscles tensed beneath her fluid touch and he relented, pushing further into her. Her eyes closed and her lips pulled together.
“Eyes on me,” said Mal, slowly thrusting further into her.
Maeve obeyed with scattered breaths. He released her waist, and she fell into him fully. Her cry brought a rush of wicked thoughts through his veins. She pulled her hips forward and back, forward and back, without hesitation. He fisted a handful of her hair and yanked her lips to his.
That’s a good girl , he praised her silently as she rode him.
His free hand moved to her lower back, pushing her further in rhythm. Her pace quickened and his fist tightened. He’d nearly forgotten how absolutely addicting she was.
She winced as he bit into her lip and licked over the tender skin. She slowed her hips, bringing them to a steady roll against him. Mal inhaled slowly, sucking in every ounce of her Magic oozing from her.
But he wanted more. More of her intoxication. More of her pain. More of her pleasure. Magic thrummed at his core, pleading for more.
He pulled his lips from hers. “Do you want to really feel it?”
Maeve nodded.
She leaned backwards, groaning as he filled her still. He took her wrist in one hand, flipping her palm towards him. With a single finger, he sliced across her palm. She twitched, sucking in sharply as the cut spread open. Bright red blood slipped from the wound.
Maeve didn’t hesitate, She took his and placed two fingers on his palm, creating a matching cut to her own.
He bucked into her as she sliced the skin. Maeve released him, and raised her bloody palm.
“Pour toujours,” he said.
Forever .
“à tout jamais,” she replied.
And always.
She bent towards him, slamming their lips together as their palms met. Electric sparks shot through him as their blood fused. His heart sped forward, chasing every ounce of euphoria that raced through him until she shook on top of him, coming hard and chasing her own rush of satisfaction.
He gripped her bloodied hand tightly in his as he spilled inside her, singing her name.