Chapter 46
Hazel
Selia swings open the door to Malachi’s room. Her mouth quirks with a malicious, silent threat as her storm clouds meet my shadows in a clash of wills.
“Where’s my brother?”
“Occupied.” She rolls her shoulders back with the slightest hint at her discomfort.
She tries to pretend my brother’s frivolous escapades don’t bother her. But as a moan comes from the chamber behind her and the storm clouds in her eyes thicken, the truth is clear.
“I need to speak with him.”
Selia steps aside, waving her hand. Every finger is decorated with gold rings. Gold wings lengthen her pointed ears. A gold choker decorates her throat. Presents that my brother thinks make up for his behavior.
Stepping into the room, my sandals click against the floor, and I hold my breath, trying to steady my nerves. It’s easier being in my wing, surrounded by obsidian. While most Fae despise the drain on their magic, it’s soothing to have mine muted.
Obsidian clears my veins, my mind. It levels me. The more magic that’s around, the more my shadows itch to reach for it.
My fingers twitch, and I tug the shadows back, reining them in as I cross the room.
On a couch in the sitting chamber, a male is barely moving. If not for the rise and fall of his chest, I’d think the river of blood down his neck was proof my brother couldn’t stop himself this time.
He’s been ravenous lately. Hungrier than any of my shadows.
Selia moves across the room to her chamber on the other side. Her stone-cold glare hardens with the heightened screams behind Malachi’s door. He’s making her suffer by forcing her to listen.
She closes her door, though I doubt it does much to mute the noise as I reach his room and swing the doors open.
Malachi has a female tied to his bed while he chokes down her blood as he claims her.
I turn my back, crossing my arms across my chest so I don’t have to watch. “You’re late.”
“Alasdair isn’t going to be here until tonight.”
“It is tonight.” I tap my nail on my arm as Malachi shuffles around behind me, hopefully getting dressed. “Alasdair and Darragh arrived hours ago. I’ve sent guards to get you, but you turned them away.”
“I was busy.” Malachi stops beside me, and I turn to find him dressed from the waist down, holding a tunic in his hands.
He pulls it overhead, then he looks over his shoulder to the naked female stretched out on his bed.
Malachi wiggles his fingers so the bindings release, and her hand flies to her bloody throat. “Get out.”
I follow Malachi as he brushes past me. “Charming. You do know Selia can hear what you’re doing?”
“I offered to let her join us.” He grins, walking to the sitting room and shooing the male from his couch.
He stumbles from the room as Malachi grabs a glass of wine. At the last moment, the male realizes he isn’t wearing anything, so he turns to grab his pants from the floor. Though he doesn’t bother putting them on before disappearing into the hallway.
I open my mouth to speak when Malachi holds a finger up, stopping me.
The female from his room walks out with bites all over her neck and arms. Only once the door closes behind her does Malachi wave his hand, locking the room in light so no one can hear us.
“You summoned the lords, yet you don’t bother to show up.”
He waves me off, taking another sip. “They can wait.”
“They’re nervous after what happened in Solace. If the Well is ripping tears this far into Lyrichia—”
“Where is your crown, sister?” He cuts me off. His long strides place him in front of me in four quick steps. “That’s right, you don’t have one. I suggest you watch how you speak to your king.”
My teeth snap together as he walks around me. Shadows stir at the tips of my fingers, pulling me in a different direction. “You are my king, brother. Which is why I will protect you until my dying heartbeat. But with the state of Lyrichia, we need the lords on our side.”
“The state of Lyrichia won’t be an issue soon.” He grins over his shoulder. “My chosen has finally found her spark.”
“I hear Wilder can be quite inspiring.”
His smile hardens; his bright eyes turn cold. “Are you suggesting something, sister?”
“Only that he’s been frolicking about with the girl you supposedly need to fulfill your vision.”
“Better that he’s distracted between the human’s legs than poking about my court.”
“Wilder is never distracted,” I warn him. “It would be dangerous to underestimate him now.”
“Let me worry about Wilder Riven.” Malachi tips his glass back, draining the rest of his drink. “Let the lords know I’ll be with them shortly.”
He walks over to Selia’s room, pausing at the door.
Malachi looks over his shoulder. “Are we ready for the Rite?”
“Of course, my king.”
“The altar?”
“Not a drop of magic.”
My fingers held those stones until they shook. Until my nails nearly cracked, pulling every last drop of magic from the altar. Until they were nothing more than gray empty stones.
“You’re so good to me, sister.” His eyes are hazy when they meet mine.
He’s drowning in magic but burning it up so fast there’s nothing strong enough to hold the light in his eyes.
Malachi swings open the door to Selia’s room and disappears inside. Through the walls, I hear what little argument she puts up before the sound of something I have no interest in hearing begins.
Wandering out of the room, the guards keep their distance in the halls. They follow me to the edge of my wing, not going a step farther. But when my feet meet the obsidian floor, I sigh.
Soon.
Malachi will fix this soon.
We’re almost there.
My brother will save us all.