Malin – Fellspire Hold #2
Then, she accidentally glanced at the abyss below.
The awe instantly vanished, replaced by a cold, dizzying terror that made the entire world spin.
Grabbing Jacien’s arm like a lifeline, she buried her face directly into his chest to block out the horrifying drop.
He immediately wrapped his arms tightly around her shoulders.
“Someone does not like heights,” he whispered lightly, smoothing a hand over her hair.
The gentle teasing broke right through her panic, replacing the cold fear with a burning wave of sheer embarrassment. She was acting entirely foolish. Stiffening, she awkwardly pulled herself out of his embrace and cleared her throat.
“You would never guess I can levitate,” she said, her cheeks blazing a deep pink. “My brain simply refuses to skip the initial terror of seeing a drop like that. But thank you.”
Squaring her shoulders, she forced her gaze back to the window.
Fighting past the nausea, she marveled at how the depth perfectly mirrored the soaring heights.
The stronghold was impossibly huge. The glass car climbed relentlessly, carrying them up through the massive expanse until they reached the uppermost levels.
The sudden ding of a bell pulled Malin away from the mesmerizing view. She glanced at Therin as the lingering tension in his shoulders melted away into a more relaxed posture.
A slow grin touched his lips. “This is our floor.”
When they emerged, the hallway on this floor was dead quiet. The walls were lined with doors, each marked with names and titles in gold. The thick carpet absorbed their footsteps, and the air felt dry, faintly electric.
The sheer number of guards and security roaming about made her grateful she had taken off her amulet. Not knowing what they were walking into made her nerves bounce. Having access to her other powers would be worth it.
They walked for what felt like forever, passing doors labeled with titles: Synod of Records, Synod of Coin, Synod of Faith. Finally, at the farthest end, they found the office marked “Upper Synod of War.”
She hadn’t expected his brother to be someone in the War Department. She didn’t know what to expect, but Therin didn’t seem the War type.
Therin blocked the office door, eyeing Jacien with open nerve. “He stays out here. I am not bringing an armed, unknown variable into my brother’s private chambers.”
Jacien simply shook his head and placed a hand on Therin’s shoulder. Golden magic flared in the rogue’s silver eyes. Therin’s face instantly went slack, all tension bleeding away. “Can I come in now?”
“Of course, silly me. My brother would be happy to meet you,” Therin murmured. Malin had to suppress a chuckle.
They passed through an empty, ornate assistant’s room and knocked on the largest of three heavy doors. A deep voice commanded them to enter. The double doors opened and closed behind them on their own.
While Jacien remained inside near the exit to guard their flank, Malin followed Therin into the heart of the sprawling, aggressively imposing office.
They stopped before a massive dark wood desk.
The man seated behind it possessed thick, wavy black hair and a presence that demanded absolute authority.
“Therin,” the deep bass voice rang out before he even lifted his head. “You know I don’t care for unexpected guests.”
He finally looked up. His eyes locked onto Malin, and he drew in a sharp breath. “Well. Some guests are not so bad,” he purred. “This had better be good.”
Therin stammered, entirely incapable of answering. Malin immediately took charge. “I am sorry for the inconvenience, but this is critical. My name is Malin Hawkson, and I desperately need your help.” After she added the ‘desperately’, she realized that might not have been a good move.
“Welcome, Ms. Hawkson. Nice to make your acquaintance. Urgent help, you say?” The words were polite, but his flat, emotionless tone betrayed absolutely nothing.
He stood and approached her. The dark fabric of his unbuttoned silk shirt was a stark contrast to his pale skin and chiseled chest. Before she could react, he closed the distance, took her hand, and pressed a deliberate kiss to the sensitive skin on the inside of her wrist. A hot flush crept up Malin’s neck.
The sheer audacity of the touch broke her paralysis. She ripped her hand away and stumbled back. “I am desperate, but not for that,” she snapped, tilting her chin up. He was massive, easily matching Will’s height.
“Apologies. I am not familiar with your name, but you look strikingly like a former associate.” He stepped back, leaning casually against his desk.
“Do you know my mother, Elowen Neldoreth?” she demanded.
“Indeed,” he said dryly.
“I am her daughter.”
Darik paused. “Oh. You were almost my betrothed.”
The revelation hit Malin like a physical blow. Her legs gave out, and she dropped heavily into the nearest chair. “My what?”
“Did your father never tell you? Our fathers came very close to a deal, but your father refused to remove your chip. Are you still chipped?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
“No. I am not,” she responded warily.
Darik’s gaze raked slowly over her body. “I sense it now. You do have quite a bit of power. Pity. We would have made a very strong alliance. Imagine if Media and Fellspire could have resolved the feud formally. With our combined strengths, we would have taken over the Synod in no time.”
The horrific revelation left her totally off balance, and his smooth, predatory tone made her skin crawl with profound disgust.
“How do you know my mother?”
“I cannot divulge all my secrets. But I do know she would be here herself if she could, rather than sending you. Tell me what you want.” He dripped with arrogant confidence.
Malin took a steadying breath, rapidly analyzing her options. Her mother had clearly sent her here for a specific reason.
“I need an EMP. Just a small one, and it is urgent.”
“Ahhh. Was the request that came from Queen Anariel for Elowen? We had no intention of handing Mellyrn the device. Now that I know it is for her, I shall listen to your terms. But your offer would need to be impressive. I can think of several terms that would make me more than willing to part with it.” He licked his lips suggestively.
“You can get those thoughts out of your head. I am married and not interested.” Under her breath, she muttered a quiet curse. “What is it with men? Disgusting.”
“Calling me disgusting isn’t going to help your cause. I am not looking for a marriage, only a quality heir with powers in the bloodline.” He gave a lopsided grin that entirely lacked the genuine charm of Jacien or Will.
“Repulsive. You are too late,” Malin said, standing tall and lifting her chin. “I am already married and pregnant. Now, can we really talk about terms?”
“I do enjoy some fight in my women,” he murmured, lifting his hand to brush her cheek.
He never made contact. With a ringing hiss of steel, Jacien was instantly beside her, gripping an unsheathed knife in each hand.
“I would drop your hand if you want it to remain attached to your body,” Jacien growled.
Suffocating, icy darkness crept out of Darik. Therin scrambled away toward the door in sheer panic. “Bringing weapons into my office is an act of war. Drop them now or suffer the consequences.”
The threads of shadow rose around them, threatening to swallow the whole room.
Malin didn’t hesitate. Blinding, searing white fire exploded from her core. The sheer heat and brilliant light instantly shattered the creeping shadows, burning the darkness away until the office was entirely illuminated. Darik froze, his jaw going slack in absolute shock.
“Enough,” she demanded over the roar of her flames.
“I am a weapon. I am more than enough to handle your shadows. If we can all act like adults instead of posturing fools, we can actually talk. We are keeping our weapons, and Jacien will not use his blades. Stop this ridiculous display so we can make progress. Your shadows might terrify your usual guests, but I am entirely unbothered. We are in the middle of a negotiation, not at the end of it. I am not a negotiation term.”
Darik’s shadows slithered obediently within him, and his shoulders relaxed. Satisfied that the danger was gone, Malin withdrew her flames. Jacien slowly re-sheathed his weapons.
“Well. Well,” Darik purred, quickly recovering his composure.
“I’m not sure what you have to offer, and I don’t have time to adequately obtain payment for it right now.
I need to head downstairs to the tents where the Mellyrn delegation is waiting.
I’m late,” he said, casually looking at something on his wrist.
“It is my understanding they would like to discuss terms. They had included a request for an EMP in their terms. We were not planning on allowing them to leave with the device. But if you are willing to help with my negotiations…” The smile he offered made her throw up a little bit in her mouth.
She smiled through it, as he continued. “Maybe we could reach more mutually beneficial terms. Your powers and mine together would be a formidable match for any political desires.”
“I’m not doing anything with you. Why even attend the negotiations if you weren’t going to give them the one thing they needed?” she spat.
As the words left her mouth, the words replayed in her head. The Mellyrn delegation was there for negotiations. Was that a distraction for a smaller team… most likely led by Will… to break in?
“Pity,” he said, pursing his lips. “The Archor has already declared that Mellyrn will not get the EMP. Since I am the Synod of War, I can obtain one outside the negotiations, for a price.” He moved to his desk, leafing through papers.
“I need Mellyrn to make an agreement and stay at the negotiation table for several hours. It will be favorable to the constituents if I am able to ensure both sides come to some form of an agreement by the end of the night.”