Chapter 24
Malakai lounges against the kitchen island, a mug of coffee in hand, throwing me a smug grin that instantly irritates me. He’s back in his usual three-piece suit—this one a dark, warm gray that almost looks black.
I walk past him and make myself a cup of tea, doing my best to ignore him. My attempt only makes Malakai chuckle behind me, and I want to throw my cup in his face in response.
He rinses out his mug and places it in the dishwasher. “I’m leaving.”
“What?” I spin around to face him, somehow managing not to spill a single drop of tea. I narrow my eyes, not bothering to hide my anger.
“I’ll be back in a couple days,” Malakai replies.
“What does ‘a couple days’ mean?”
He turns and leaves the kitchen without answering. I set my cup down with such force that the porcelain scrapes against the granite countertop.
“What the hell, Mal?” I yell, following him into the hallway.
“I’ll be back when I’m back,” he says, glancing over his shoulder as he dons an overcoat that matches his suit.
“That’s it? You’re leaving, and that’s all I get?” My anger thickens the air between us, and the urge to tear him to pieces grows by the second. Every time I feel like we’re making progress, that maybe—just maybe—there’s something between us, he leaves.
Malakai turns to face me fully, undoubtedly sensing my frustration as his hand clasps around my wrist. His grip is tight, almost painful, as he pulls me against him, his other hand resting on the small of my back to hold me in place.
I look up at him, a snarl escaping my mouth. Malakai chuckles in response, dipping his head to kiss me so softly it’s barely noticeable.
“Behave,” he says, releasing me.
He places another kiss on my cheek before stepping outside.
Malakai leaves me standing there in the hallway, my whole body vibrating with anger. I lower my head, trying to suppress the urge to destroy something—anything.
It feels as if things between us haven’t changed lately. Or perhaps I’m the only one who has been changing… Maybe I’ve been imagining it, or worse, he’s just playing a game with me. The uncertainty pains me, intensifying my anger.
Then, just like that, it bursts apart—my chest exploding from rage to bitter sadness as I truly consider those other options.
I stumble until my back hits the wall, burying my face in shaking hands. This really is the only explanation, isn’t it? Once again, it’s only me who has been feeling, only me who has been falling in…
No, I can’t even finish that thought. I can’t finish it because it will make it true, and I simply can’t deal with that. Not when I can’t get out of this.
My hands drop to my sides, a trembling sigh falls from my lips, and I lean my head back against the wall, closing my eyes. I let despair take over, for I know that even if it’s just me, I don’t want to get out of this. No matter how badly it might end up hurting.
Malakai arranged for Tomyla to turn my training sessions into all-day affairs while he’s away.
He didn’t even have the guts to tell me himself; all he did was send me a message last night about the change.
When I replied to express my thoughts, he left my message on read, which only aggravated me further.
At least Tomyla and I have been getting along better lately, making the prospect of spending whole days with her slightly less infuriating—not because of her, but because Malakai practically forced me to endure it.
“Good session. You continue to improve, so keep it up.” Tomyla smiles at me while I finish a bottle of water after today’s training.
I nod at her, swallowing a mouthful, realizing I quite like it when she smiles. “Thank you for being okay with the changed schedule.”
Tomyla shrugs, knowing she didn’t have much choice in the matter. “I heard about your torture session earlier,” she says, changing the subject. “Cry mentioned she overheard the Nephilim say it looked quite spectacular.”
“Cry?” I ask, puzzled about why Creiddyla would talk to Tomyla about this.
“Oh, shit,” Tomyla exclaims, recalling who she’s speaking to. “Forget I said anything. I don’t want you to think she was snooping. It’s none of my business anyway.”
I laugh, shaking my head as I toss the empty bottle in the garbage bin. “Don’t worry about it. I just didn’t know you guys talked, let alone about me.”
“Well, it’s not every day our boss returns with a wife who apparently enjoys torture as much as I do. It kind of makes you the talk of the town,” Tomyla admits with a sheepish grin.
We start cleaning up, putting the weapons back on the racks and mopping the floor. Training has reached a level where it’s not intense unless you lose some blood, and it turns out Tomyla is the biggest clean freak I’ve ever met.
“You and Creiddyla…” Tomyla’s eyes light up at the mention of the receptionist’s name. “Do you do anything else besides talk about me?”
“Oh, a lot more.” She grins, seemingly eager to indulge me. “Let’s just say she definitely knows how to use those beautiful teeth of hers.”
A torturer with a pain kink doesn’t come as much of a surprise. Not that I’m one to speak. But it’s nice to get to know her; despite her generally grumpy attitude, we seem to click. Part of me thinks that we might be able to become friends at some point.
I can definitely use more friends.
After cleaning up, I meet Désirée in the lobby.
I asked for her help with something, and she agreed on the condition that we’d hang out afterward.
As soon as she spots me, she rises from her seat.
She wears a long, dark red leather coat, black pants, and black biker boots.
She looks ready to beat someone up, especially with her hair in a high ponytail and the black sunglasses perched atop her head.
Désirée smiles as I come to a stop in front of her, pulling me in for a hug without hesitation. “Ready to have some fun?” she asks.
“More than ready,” I reply, returning her smile. We’ve been growing closer since she helped me with my earth magic, and I feel confident in calling her my friend—my first real friend in a very long time.
“Alright then, let’s go.” She lowers her sunglasses, hooks her arm through mine, and drags me outside. I’m still amazed that Désirée can walk outside during the day. Even though she clearly needs those sunglasses, despite the clouds.
“A tattoo, huh?” Désirée says as we make our way to the nearest entrance to the Underworld. “What are you getting? And where?”
After my emotional meltdown the other day, I stewed in anger again for a bit.
Désirée came over right as I was about to work through some of that in the park.
She graciously allowed me to vent, then we talked, and I realized I should probably cut Malakai some slack—not that I’d ever admit it to his face.
He’s done so much for me and has a lot on his mind with the company.
Despite how much of an asshole he can be, I want to do something for him in return.
After all, we’re in this together, and even if he leaves me high and dry from time to time, he’s not ever going to leave me for real, nor will he let me leave.
Meaning it’s time for me to fully embrace whatever this is.
I’m his, he’s mine, and nothing is going to change that, no matter what our feelings do or do not say.
And maybe—just maybe—I’m finding it harder to deny that I really don’t hate him anymore. Quite the opposite. I’m just struggling to come to terms with my changing emotions, and perhaps it’s the same for him, and I just don’t know it.
We’ll still need to talk, though.
Next thing I knew, Désirée agreed to help me when I told her I wanted to surprise Malakai with a tattoo. I’m nervous about it, though—a tattoo is permanent, and if he doesn’t like it… I shake my head, determined not to think about that possibility.
I glance at Désirée and give her a smirk while pulling her closer to whisper in her ear. She raises her sunglasses for a moment, her mouth dropping open.
“Are you serious?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper, unable to hide her excitement.
“Very.”
“Shit, girl.” She pushes her sunglasses back in place. “He’s going to lose his mind.”
She opens the Door with a single hand, and I follow her down the stairs.
“That’s what I’m going for.” I snicker, glad to have her approval.
“I wish I could be there to see his reaction.” Désirée laughs as she jumps down the last steps.
“Okay, so,” she continues, becoming serious once more, “I don’t know from experience, but I’ve heard only good things about this tattoo artist. If you don’t feel comfortable for any reason, just say the words, and we’re out of there. Okay?”
I nod, and she wraps her arm around my waist, guiding me through the streets. We eventually stop in front of a shop that looks like any other human tattoo parlor I’ve seen in the city above. A bell chimes when we enter, and after a few moments, a petite inhuman appears from the back room.
“Hi there.” They smile, their sharp tail playfully flicking back and forth behind them. “What can I help you with?”
“I’m looking to get a tattoo. Do you have an opening, or should I make an appointment for a later time?” I hope they have time because I’m nervous and would prefer to get this over with sooner rather than later.
“That depends on what you’d like. I have an appointment in two hours, but if it’s something not too big or crazy, I might be able to squeeze you in.”
“I have it right here.” I take out the piece of paper on which I copied the design. “What do you think?”
They take it from me and examine it for a moment. “Yeah, no problem. Let me just draw it up, and we can discuss the details, okay?”
“Sounds great, thank you.”
“Wonderful.” They smile. “Take a seat. I’ll be right back.”
“Nervous?” Désirée asks as she joins me on the plush sofas near the window.
“Very,” I reply, watching the tattoo artist set up their drawing tablet on the counter, glancing back and forth between my paper and the screen.