Chapter 19 #2
As Caner leaves with our coats, I take a moment to look around the restaurant.
I try not to fidget in my seat, breathless at the stunning decor.
The corner walls are floor-to-ceiling windows, the lower half sandblasted glass.
The remaining walls are a deep red-brown, matching the maroon-colored wooden floor.
The tables and chairs are a shade darker than the floor, and dark red tablecloths drape over the tables.
Instead of electric lamps, the restaurant is lit by rows of candles lining the walls.
If the food is anything like the decor, the evening will be amazing.
A server approaches our table, balancing two glasses and a bottle of what I assume is Dead Man’s Drink. He nods at us, his eyes lingering on me while he silently sets down the glasses and pours our drinks.
Malakai clearly notices, for his magic stirs in a clear burst of anger when the man walks away.
“Please don’t go after the server,” I joke, placing my hand on Malakai’s beneath the table and giving it a squeeze.
“No promises,” he grumbles, but his magic calms down nonetheless.
“So,” I start as we both reach for our glasses. “What’s the occasion?”
“What do you mean?” Malakai quirks an eyebrow.
I blink at him. “This place looks expensive—too expensive for just a night out.”
He looks puzzled. “I don’t need a reason to take you anywhere, but…” He cocks his head at me ever so slightly. “You don’t know?”
His confusion adds to mine, and I start to fumble with a corner of the tablecloth as I shift in my seat. “Know what?”
“What today is.”
I shake my head; this conversation is starting to make me feel put on the spot. “I’m hoping you’ll tell me any moment now,” I say, laughter mingling with nervousness.
“It’s your birthday.”
I just stare at Malakai, my thoughts freezing and my mouth opening and closing a few times before I manage to produce a shocked “What?”
“You truly didn’t know?”
I shake my head again, cringing slightly as I feel my chest cave in. “I never used to celebrate it, so I guess I just forgot?” A wave of embarrassment washes over me, and for a moment, I can’t meet his gaze. My hair falls in front of my face, obscuring my vision.
Malakai leans over, brushes my hair aside, and tucks it behind my ear. “Look at me.” His voice is soft, his finger under my chin, lifting my face. “We’ll celebrate it every year from now on. If you want to.”
“That’s not necessary.” My voice is small, the smile I give him hollow as I try to pull away.
Malakai isn’t having any of it, his grip on me firm and unwavering. He rolls his eyes and sighs, almost as if I’m exaggerating. “Fine, then we’ll make it a double celebration, so you have no choice.” He chuckles at the confusion that spreads across my face. “My birthday is tomorrow.”
This has me frowning, my lips pursing slightly in disbelief because what are the chances?
“Is it?”
He shrugs. “No idea, but if it gives us a reason to celebrate yours, then it is from now on,” Malakai declares casually.
I blink at him, taken aback by how easily he makes this decision. I lean back in my chair, smiling honestly this time. “Fine, a double celebration it is.”
Malakai raises his glass and clinks it against mine. “To us.”
And so we drink.
Malakai’s earlier statement about the food turns out to be entirely accurate. Caner’s dishes are divine. The appetizer teases what’s to come, and I can’t help but moan at my first bite of the starter, making Malakai laugh.
“Told you so,” he gleefully points out.
I moan around another bite, and Malakai groans in response. “Just… stop making those noises,” he says, his jaw set and his eyes locked on my lips.
Naturally, I take another bite and moan again.
“Elly, love,” he growls, his eyes darkening.
It warms me inside every time he uses that nickname. Apparently, it also makes me bolder. “Hmm,” I muse, sliding my hand over his thigh. “What’s wrong, Mal?” I look up at him through my lashes, blinking as if I’m unaware of my actions.
“Behave,” he snaps. He grabs my hand on his thigh, lifts it, and kisses my fingers. “Or else…” He lets the rest of his sentence hang, and I can feel my breathing grow heavier with the promise in his eyes.
I turn to face him, my back to the restaurant. My free hand glides over his thigh once more, and Malakai’s lips curl into that wicked smile of his. His magic dances across my dress, caressing my skin beneath my skirt.
“Don’t tempt me, love,” he drawls lazily. “I could have you ride my cock right here, for all to see.” My breath catches at the mental image, and arousal floods my veins. “But I hold back out of courtesy for Caner.”
“Sure you do,” I say, licking my lips.
Malakai releases my hand and leans in to whisper in my ear. “You’re the one who’s easily embarrassed. I have no problem with pushing you to your limits.” A beat of silence before he adds, “So behave.”
He’s right, though. I talk a big game, but we both know teasing is one thing—actually crossing that line is entirely different.
“What about this courtesy toward Caner then?” I tease, despite myself.
“Oh, love.” Malakai chuckles, straightening as he seemingly directs his attention back to his plate. “That’s about fucking you. I can make you come without touching you. He would never know.” He finishes his starter, his eyes still locked on me.
“What—” I barely manage to hold back a loud gasp, biting down on my lip instead.
His magic strokes my inner thigh, the touch teasingly light, inching higher and higher.
Someone coughs nearby, and we glance to see the server standing at our table. “Was the starter to your liking?” he asks, barely able to keep his eyes off me, making it all too clear that he has taken note of my flustered state.
“It was excellent,” Malakai replies, waving him off to clear the table.
Despite the server’s presence, Malakai’s magic lingers against my skin, caressing me softly yet teasingly. I struggle to remain still in my seat.
The server clears our plates and informs us that the main course will be served shortly. As he leaves, I notice Malakai holding back laughter, his magic retreating slightly.
“I take that back,” he says. “Caner would probably know just by how flustered you look right now.”
Heat creeps up my neck and cheeks, but it’s not just embarrassment this time. “Asshole,” I hiss at Malakai.
He reaches out, gently touching my cheek. “Behave, and you won’t have to find out how much of an asshole I can really be,” he warns.
The server returns with our main course, and it’s the only thing that keeps me from snapping at Malakai, throwing him an irritated glare instead. As soon as we’re alone again, I focus on the food in front of me, choosing to ignore him.
The main course consists of thinly sliced grilled red meat accompanied by seasonal vegetables. It’s drizzled with a sweet and spicy dressing that perfectly ties the dish together. It looks and smells amazing, the added combination of spices providing an extra layer that I can’t quite dissect.
This time, I barely manage to keep from moaning with each bite.
During the meal, I catch Malakai watching the server glance at me from time to time. His magic pulses around us, fueled by rising anger. I’m surprised the other patrons haven’t noticed; the energy is so thick and potent that even my own magic stirs, as if readying for a fight.
I have to stop Malakai from tearing the man a new one. I know he would, especially since he’s already on edge from earlier today. For some men, both a wedding band and the presence of a husband are merely challenges rather than deterrents.
“How come you don’t remember your birthday?” I ask, steering the conversation back to our earlier topic to diffuse his anger and satisfy my curiosity.
Malakai looks surprised, taken aback by my question. “The longer one lives, the harder it is to keep track of something like a birthday. It happens to most inhumans who are lucky enough to last at least a few centuries. Celebrating birthdays becomes very human.”
I hum in understanding, because that makes sense. If I can’t keep up myself, then what does age even mean after a few more centuries?
“Do all inhumans live forever?”
“Only the purebloods. Half-breeds live as long as they don’t get themselves killed.”
“So, you would live even if someone decapitated you?”
“In theory, yes,” Malakai says after swallowing a bite. “Though I haven’t actually tested that theory, you know, just in case it kills me.”
I stifle a laugh. “Perhaps I should help you with that someday,” I suggest with a wink.
“Sure.” Malakai chuckles, reaching for his glass. “I’ll let you know when I’m up for it.”
He takes a drink while I savor another bite of meat. As I chew, my mind starts to wander. If he’s in a sharing mood…
“What are you thinking?” Malakai suddenly asks, his glass still raised.
“What do you mean?”
“There is something you want to ask me. So ask me.”
This direct line he has to the inside of my brain is unnerving.
Part of me wants to tell him to shove it, but I’m also genuinely curious, recognizing that I might not get another chance like this for a while.
I take another bite and chew even slower, buying myself a little more time to think.
After swallowing, I set my cutlery down with a sigh and a small smile that undoubtedly reveals he’s right.
“I’ve asked this before, and you evaded the question back then. But I honestly haven’t stopped wondering, and I need to know.” I glance at Malakai, already feeling like an idiot. Then I swallow and ask, “You’re not human, but you’re also not just an inhuman. So… are you…”
“Am I what?” The gleam in his eyes, the way the corner of his mouth tips up—it’s clear he knows exactly what I’m talking about and won’t tell me anything unless I say it out loud.
I sigh again. “Are you a demon?”