Chapter Eight #3
Kadeesha slapped away that bit of annoying history that a tiny voice reminded her of.
It made little difference. It didn’t change the fact of his own crimes.
It had only been the Six Kingdoms’ monarchs who’d conspired to murder him and his parents; nobody else had deserved to pay penance.
She twisted in Malachizrien’s hold so she faced him.
When she planted her hands on his powerful chest, feeling the hard planes of his pectorals beneath her palms, it was akin to touching stone.
“Stop,” she hissed. She squirmed, trying to shift her neck away from Malachizrien’s full lips that were now laying a string of kisses against her skin.
It left her lightheaded and feeling as if the floor had been yanked out from under her.
Malachizrien pulled his lips away from her neck and brought them to her ear. “This is the game you agreed to, Princess.”
She bit her bottom lip. Took a moment to collect herself because Malachizrien’s satin-smooth lips brushing against the curve of her ear was as disorienting as him trailing kisses along her neck.
“It is,” she ground out. “Just … don’t do that particular thing, is all I meant.
It’s … unnerving. Switch tactics.” She’d explained herself with a mostly even tone and with her pride mainly intact.
A deep male chuckle vibrated against her ear. “As you wish, Princess. Although I doubt it’ll be any different of an experience.”
The sheer amount of ego in the statement pissed her off.
Before she could tell him where to shove his conceit, he moved his lips away from her skin entirely and ran his knuckles along the swells of her breasts, her collarbone, her throat.
She shivered. Appalling lust flooded her core, left her damp.
Her being attracted to him at Oleander House when she hadn’t any idea of his true identity was one thing.
But this … her body reacting like this, practically going molten under his kisses and touch now that she knew he was the Apollyon king, the enemy, and a male who’d set her up to be killed along with a good bit of her court …
a male who’d used sex with her to do it, and then betrayed that sex to aid in the murder of her people …
She should not feel anything toward Malachizrien except unadulterated hatred. She should want to rip his throat out.
She wanted to push him up against a wall and climb him until she screamed.
Kadeesha cleared her throat. “Where are your people?” She didn’t actually care, but she needed to glom onto something to scatter the wretched lust that wouldn’t heed her commands. Plus, it was prudent to gather any information she could about how his inner circle operated.
Malachizrien tipped his head. “Trystin and Nychelle are here. At least for now. My auntie will be departing when the pulse of the revelry shifts at midnight. But my cousin will stick around.”
“What do you mean, when the pulse shifts?” she asked, confused, although his blood family wasn’t who she’d been referring to.
“And I meant the individuals who were at Oleander House and then my wedding with you,” she corrected.
“I assume they function as a kingsguard?” Neither her father nor Rishaud had maintained such formal retinues, but other southern monarchs did.
“My people, as you call them, are much more significant than a kingsguard,” Malachizrien said, still unnervingly skimming his knuckles over the exposed skin her dress left bare.
He’d moved from the swell of her breasts to the space between them.
He stilled his hand and the lack of movement gave her a minute to clear her head, to force the dizziness to ebb a little.
Malachizrien’s brown stare sharpened as if he was considering something.
Then he added, “My people are more like my siblings. I grew up alongside them at court, the same as I did with my cousin. We are warriors-in-arms and family, much as it appears you and your Nkita are. They are my brothers. My Cadre. And they are absent because, at present, they are fetching your people since you decided you could show up in my court and start throwing around demands.”
“I struck a bargain,” Kadeesha retorted. “Also, I didn’t show up anywhere. I was cajoled here.”
“Valid points, I guess.” He dipped his head, wholly unrepentant.
“Dance with me, Princess,” he ordered abruptly.
He removed his hand from her chest and she sucked in a breath, taking advantage of the reprieve.
It was short-lived, however. Malachizrien gripped her hair, tugging her head back.
He stared at her in a smoldering manner, shadows swirling in his gaze that couldn’t be described with any word other than ravenous.
For a moment she swore he would kiss her.
Her heart became a songbird’s wings in her chest. But then he swiftly released her hair, laced his fingers through hers, and began pulling her farther into the ballroom and toward a dance floor where throngs of partners were already waltzing to the vibrant music.
Against a wall across the room, a band of bards played an assortment of brass, woodwind, and percussion instruments.
Kadeesha let Malachizrien pull her forward, but snapped, “King or no king, I won’t be taking commands from you like an actual whipped pet.”
The revelers around her, most swaying with drunken smiles on their faces that made their inebriation clear, automatically stepped out of their sovereign’s way as he cut a line through the thick crowd.
In the center of the room, Malachizrien spun to face her, keeping their hands laced together.
His other arm banded around her waist and his fingers splayed against the curve of her back.
A wicked smile curved his lips, made all the more carnal by the near-blinding diamonds trimmed in platinum that ran along his top and bottom rows of teeth from canine to canine, the bejeweled trimming accentuating how dagger-sharp the top set was.
“I think you misunderstand the role of a king’s war prize, Princess.
Of course you’re supposed to submit to my every command.
You’re supposed to fulfill my every desire, as if it is my Celestials-given kingly right to enjoy you doing so. ”
Kadeesha scowled. “Tell me, oh great and mighty Malachizrien, does it ever become too burdensome?”
“Does what?” he asked in confusion.
“Carting an enormous ego around.”
He shrugged, then motioned to the onyx crown atop his head. “It’s no heavier than this thing, so I manage.”
“You’re insufferable,” Kadeesha told him.
“And you’re mine for the foreseeable future,” he rumbled, stepping close so they were flush against each other.
She felt every hard, muscled inch of his body pressed into hers, including his thick erection he made no attempt to disguise.
His hands slid lower until they brushed the top curve of her ass.
“Be a good girl and properly act the part,” he murmured.
“My court needs an impressive enough display that it inflames gossip so hot that it travels beyond the Apollyon Court and reaches your betrothed. And call me Malachi. Hearing the longer form of my name too often annoys me.”
“Well, then you shouldn’t have confessed such a sentiment,” Kadeesha said.
“Would you like to revisit what happened the last time you refused such a request?” His voice had dropped several octaves and took on the pitch of the filthiest fantasies when he asked.
Kadeesha cleared her throat, working hard to ignore how the shape of his lips was lush and sinful and made for driving a woman mad—which was exactly what he’d used them to accomplish before.
“No, I would not like to rehash my poor decisions of the past. I’ll grant you the request.” She assented only because she didn’t need him attempting to prove some smug point.
Especially since Malachizrien was palming her ass now, his impressive length enthusiastically pressing into her.
She sucked in a breath, and it was the utterly wrong thing to do.
His scent enveloped her, the notes of evergreen pines and spiced cognac swirling in the air around them.
Before she had the chance to stabilize her breathing, he took a step back and her body ached for his warmth, betraying her again.
He then whisked her into a waltz that left her as breathless as before.
Each of his steps was executed with as much precision as they were with grace.
If he weren’t the enemy, Kadeesha might’ve taken a moment to marvel at the picture he cut.
She’d seen the pitiless side of him; she’d already glimpsed the ruthless, unscrupulous killer.
But the male who led her in the waltz did so with all the elegance and charm of a dashing king.
When she relaxed her muscles and let the music flow into her like water, matched her movements to his, let their bodies glide across the floor together in perfect sync, she told herself she was simply stepping up her game because she wouldn’t allow herself to be outdone by him, nothing more.
Certainly not because she in any way enjoyed this.
Kadeesha heard the murmurs rippling through the crowd as they danced.
Heard the speculations about who she was and the whispers that she was Malachizrien’s latest conquest in a neverending string of such headboard notches.
She also caught the chatter about their king finally agreeing to take a bride and the musings over whether the unfamiliar woman he danced with would be their next queen.
That last one was quite an interesting revelation to overhear.
Especially since it had Malachizrien’s face pinched in consternation.
“I take it you aren’t thrilled about your own impending marriage? Who’s the lucky woman?” she asked smoothly.