Chapter 34
AVELINE
If someone had told me three days ago that I would be lying blissfully naked in the bed of an ancient entity, completely sex-addled and tracing the hard, marble-carved planes of his chest, I would have thought they were losing their mind.
But here I am.
And here he is.
The bedroom is warm, saturated with the rich scent of dark vanilla, spiced cedarwood, and the lingering, intoxicating musk of our, well, our bodies. Lingering and maybe slightly embarrassing. Luckily for me, I’m too tired and pleasured to be embarrassed about anything at all.
Outside, the magic fueled winter storm lashes against the high windows, but the glass is heavily frosted over, completely sealing us into a private, amber-lit sanctuary of velvet sheets and heavy furs.
I lazily trace the tip of my fingernail down the center of Malakai's chest, following the sharp, intimidating line of his abdominal muscles.
My entire body feels wonderfully heavy, a delicious, dizzying sort of exhaustion humming in my veins.
The overwhelming, ahem, physicality of the last twenty-four hours has left my body and brain entirely fried.
But… I am deliriously happy, a realization that prompts an involuntary hum of contentment from me.
Malakai lets out a noise of satisfaction in response—a sound that literally vibrates through the bed beneath us—and wraps one massive, heavily muscled arm tighter around my waist. He pulls me up his torso until my chin rests on his collarbone.
His eyes are soft, staring up at me with a pleased devotion that makes my heart skip a beat.
"You’re staring, Aveline," he rumbles, running a hand up my bare back.
"I am inspecting the merchandise, Shadow King," I counter, a lazy smirk on my lips.
I tap a finger against his bare shoulder, right where his ridiculous ceremonial armor rested.
"Tell me... will the scandalous shadow-wyrm battle lingerie be making a formal appearance at our eventual nuptials?
Because if I am forced to wear a traditional veil, I fully expect you to be appropriately underdressed. "
Malakai’s lips twitch upward, half his mouth jerking into a broad grin that makes him look impossibly handsome in the firelight. "It is ceremonial, Aveline,” he says on a sigh. “But if it pleases my bride, I will gladly wear nothing at all to the altar."
"Oh no." I snort, leaning down to press a quick, playful kiss to his jaw, entirely enamored by the texture of his stubble. “No one gets to see all of you but me.” I let out a sigh, resting my cheek against his chest, and listen to the thud of his heart.
“I have a possessive bride, I see.”
“Mmph,” I agree, tracing the raspy stubble on his jaw.
The peace of the room wraps around me, and for the first time, the weight of my past dissolves.
I feel safe.
I feel chosen.
"All right," I murmur into his skin, deciding to finally yield. "We can get married, I guess. If we must. But let it be known that a Duchess of Stormspire expects a very specific standard of luxury for her wedding. I want a proper ceremony in the village. I want Piper’s cakes and Lila’s tea, I want Sandwich decorated in winter flowers, and I expect your idiot brothers to wear actual clothes instead of leather kilts. "
I sit up slightly, bracing my hands on his chest so I can look down at his face, offering him an entirely pleased little smile. "So. Do we have an agreement, husband-to-be?"
Malakai stares up at me, the smile on his face melting away. His brow wrinkles in confusion. He blinks once, his dark eyebrows knitting together as his large hands rest securely on my hips.
I wriggle, enjoying the pressure.
"Aveline," he says slowly. His voice drops into bewildered register. "What do you mean, 'husband-to-be'?"
"I mean exactly what I said," I reply. "We can proceed with the wedding. I am consenting to be your wife."
Malakai lets out a soft laugh, his fingers tightening on my skin possessively. "My love... we already are."
I freeze.
I narrow my eyes at him. "Excuse me?"
"We are already wed," he clarifies, looking at me as if I am the one speaking in riddles.
He motions loosely toward the bed, a trace of dazed satisfaction lingering in his dark eyes.
"The magic... it’s entwined. We consummated our fated bond.
The moment the magic recognized the union, you permanently became my wife. There is no future ceremony required."
Silence greets his words.
For three horrified seconds, I simply stare down at his completely clueless face. I repeat his words in my mind, and with every syllable, fresh indignation flares to life deep in my chest.
’You permanently became my wife.’
"You..." I choke out, my voice rapidly rising an octave as I push myself off his chest. I scramble backward across the bed, dragging the heavy blanket with me to shield my naked body. "You underhanded… rat bastard!"
My language shocks me, and I almost cover my mouth.
But I don’t, because, well, how does one get legally married and not tell the other person?
Malakai surges upright in an instant, his hands extended in mock surrender. "Aveline, what is wrong? Why are you upset?"
"Why am I upset?!" My voice ices over. "I’m not upset. I am enraged. You tricked me. You completely and utterly tricked me into a magical marriage contract without mentioning…" I gesture between us, nearly drop the blanket, then wrap it more thoroughly around myself. “THE FINE PRINT!” I finish.
A bit loudly. I wince.
"I did not trick you," Malakai protests. "You consented! You initiated the encounter in the kitchen, Aveline! You explicitly stated that you wanted me—"
"I wanted sex, you oversized rat, not a legally binding, multi-century spiritual marriage license." I bellow back, grabbing a pillow and stopping just short of hurling it directly at his face.
That wouldn’t be seemly.
I toss it near his face, instead.
Malakai catches the pillow effortlessly with one hand, his expression a perfect picture of confusion. "But... it was good for you? You initiated it ten times! You were glowing gold. The house grew an entire garden and greenhouse for you—"
"That is entirely beside the point!" I snap, my chest heaving.
The blanket begins to slip again and I stamp my foot.
"My entire life, my choices have been taken from me. I thought we were making progress, I thought you were finally respecting my choices, and instead, you just casually slipped an eternity clause between my thighs.”
The last word chokes out of me as tears start to fall.
I drag the massive fur blanket behind me like a dramatic royal cape as I storm toward the bathroom door.
"Aveline, wait—" Malakai pleads, rising from the mattress, looking entirely too devastated for my liking.
"Do not follow me," I toss over my shoulder, pointing a sharp, manicured finger at his chest. "I am going to take a bath, and if a single wisp of your battle-lingerie-wearing shadows dares to cross this threshold, I will personally see to it that the coven uses your immortal body for target practice. Do I make myself understood, husband?!"
I slam the heavy bathroom door shut with a force that rattles the entire castle masonry, and then I burst into tears.