Malin – Fellspire Hold #3
Malin’s mind raced. A peace treaty? When she had left, the military was preparing a massive two-pronged attack. Peace had never even been considered as a viable option.
“I can’t guarantee the agreement, but I can agree that we will stay, and I will try to encourage them to make an agreement,” she offered cautiously.
“General Rauno is almost as difficult to negotiate with as I am. This will not be easy,” he drawled.
“Just to be sure. I keep the delegation in the negotiation for several hours and try to encourage a resolution, but I can’t guarantee anything. In exchange, you will give me an EMP device. Right?”
This seemed far too simple. She had to be missing a hidden trap.
“Yes. Those are the terms I can accept. However, how can I know that the delegation will even consider your suggestion?” he asked, turning back to his desk.
“I’m not a stranger to them,” she clarified, causing him to raise an eyebrow.
“I have been truthful. You know my mother, but I left out a key detail. My father is Aldrik Rauno, Lord of House Trillium and General of the Mellyrn Armies. Though judging from the smile crossing your lips, I bet you already suspected that.”
A rapid sequence of emotions crossed his face before settling into a sharp, calculating focus. “There have always been rumors. When I saw your flames, I suspected as much.”
Heavy silence filled the room.
Darik tilted his head, his ambition radiating off him.
“This presents a unique opportunity. Brokering a peace treaty between Mellyrn and Fellspire could easily earn me the position of Archon. At that level, I could outlaw slavery with a single decree and bypass these tedious political games.” His gaze was steady and unblinking. “That is a far cleaner victory for me.”
After a beat, he added, “Then it’s a deal. I will have the device with me, and if you manage your end of the bargain, you will get what you came for.”
Her eyes narrowed, entirely unwilling to trust him. “So, I must completely fulfill my end and hope you will do what you say? Are you the kind of man who betrays his word the moment the winds change?”
Therin, silent until now, shifted uneasily by the wall and cleared his throat loudly.
Darik’s expression sharpened, and he stood tall.
“I do not typically allow insults to my honor to pass without a severe response. Under the circumstances, I will assume it was an accident,” he said through clenched teeth.
He stepped close enough that the deep scent of sandalwood and mint rolled over her.
Leaning forward, Malin planted both hands flat on his bare chest to push him away.
Small, searing flames licked the edges of her palms. Her voice was pure iron.
“I came here because I must get this EMP to save my mother. If you don’t honor your side of the deal, you will find out exactly how similar I am to my parents. ”
She shot her hardest glare in his direction, forcing the ambient temperature in the room to spike drastically. She reveled in the sight of sweat beading on his brow and angry red welts forming on his skin beneath her hands.
Holding her gaze, Darik stepped back with a crooked grin, gently caressing his fresh burns with a wicked smile.
“We have an accord, then. You will join me at the negotiations. You will help ensure we reach an agreement, and in exchange, you get the device. There were other terms that I feel both sides would have enjoyed, but I can accept these.”
She nodded tightly, not trusting herself to speak further. The primal urge to siphon his life force right out of his chest was taking every ounce of her control to suppress. Glancing over, Jacien stood perfectly still, coiled to pounce the second it became necessary.
Walking around the desk, Darik pulled heavy parchment from a drawer. He quickly scratched a message, rolled it, applied a drop of wax, and pressed his signet ring into it.
“Therin. Please take this to the Armory and have two guards meet us at the front entrance with the item,” Darik instructed. “It’s your choice whether to attend the meeting with us, brother. I know you don’t care for these politics.”
Therin hesitated before taking the scroll. “If it is all the same, I would like to get back to my Bratha.” His voice softened, the hard edges of his accent melting away. He looked at Malin. “You are family. I hope your next visit will be less stressful. I will pass your regards to my love.”
Right before he walked through the door, his amber eyes caught the late afternoon light. “I can see your mother in you,” he said. His expression was completely unreadable as he exited, leaving Malin’s stomach tight with uncertainty over whether the comment was a judgment or praise.
“The resemblance is striking,” Darik rumbled in agreement. “Though now that I know your lineage, I see you have many similarities to General Rauno as well.” His half-smile transformed his severe features, making him look almost breathtaking.
Yet, his polished veneer had permanently chipped, exposing the calculating, superficial monster beneath the handsome packaging.
He gathered some papers into a leather briefcase, the brass clasps clicking shut with military precision. “Perhaps you could wait in the main chamber,” he suggested, gesturing toward the arched doorway. “I need to make myself presentable for the formal negotiations.”
The scorched material of his silk shirt, now heavily soaked with perspiration. She turned away quickly, desperately reminding herself exactly what kind of arrogant ass he was.
“Yes,” she managed. “That seems like a good idea.”
Jacien held the heavy oak door for her, its iron hinges creaking as they moved back into the main office.
This time, she actually allowed herself a moment to look at the space.
Tapestries depicting ancient battles adorned the walls, their rich colors preserved despite centuries of fading.
A small fireplace sat near the door, its crackling flames casting dancing shadows across the polished stone floor.
“If he weren’t so arrogant, he’d be my kind of guy to get a drink with. He’s a man who forces things to get done. I prefer the softer approach,” Jacien murmured, leaning against a bookshelf filled with leather-bound tomes.
As they waited in the quiet room, her hand drifted instinctively to her stomach. A soft flutter brushed beneath her fingertips. Was that the baby? It seemed entirely too early for movement at only two months.
Her throat tightened with worry. Maybe it was just the stress of the day taking its toll on her body.
She reached blindly for Will’s thoughts through their soul-bond, but only his raw emotions broke through.
At least he was close enough for that. His deep tension and concern radiated clearly through the connection.
She tried harder to push words through, but the bond stretched between them like a dull, physical ache.
What would he think of her being here, standing in enemy territory, rather than the safe little town she was supposed to be in?
What would he think of the way her cheeks had flushed earlier?
It was only a fleeting physical reaction, but if it leaked through to his current state of mind, it would ruin him.
She missed him with a sudden ferocity that surprised her. It had to be the strained magical bond amplifying her grief.
Darik emerged from his chambers, his dark hair smoothed back into a tight queue. His damp, ruined shirt was gone, replaced by a crisp, midnight-blue tunic embroidered with silver thread that caught the firelight with every movement. His brow was furrowed deeply as he approached.
“We have a complication,” Darik said, his voice dropping to a velvet murmur.
“There are those within Fellspire who harbor particular prejudices. Your resemblance to Elowen will ignite old grudges before you even speak a single word. You should walk in covered. A ceremonial robe will keep any questions at bay for a time.”
From a carved mahogany chest, he withdrew a robe of obsidian silk.
Its collar and cuffs were adorned with intricate runes that shimmered.
He draped it over her shoulders, the fabric cascading around her like his shadows and pooling at her feet.
She had to gather it up just to walk. The garment entirely engulfed her frame, but as she pulled it close, she inhaled the unmistakable notes of sandalwood and mint clinging to the fibers.
She was completely enveloped in his scent.
It was deeply disquieting, but his thoughts on how they would react to her mother were likely correct. She would have to suffer with the odor for now.
He motioned them to the elevators.
Her thoughts spinning violently, Malin faced the elevator doors.
Victor. He had tried to sell her to the Archon’s son. Why would he ever negotiate with Fellspire? Yet another reason for her to dislike the man she knew as Daddy.
Did her mother know he had offered their child up to seal a treaty?
A wave of isolation washed over her. Desperate for a familiar comfort, she reached out through the soul-bond, searching for Will. She found absolute nothingness. The tether was completely dark.
Frustration flared hot in her veins. She pushed with all her mental strength, but the connection remained terrifyingly silent. She dug her nails into her palms.
Was the bond finally failing?
Or was the dense, oppressive magic of the Fellspire architecture acting as a shield?
She desperately hoped it was just the building.
She could not lose him right now.