Chapter 29
My magic courses over my skin as soon as I wake the next morning, creating a soft tingling sensation that tells me everything is back to normal. At least physically. Emotionally, everything still feels fresh, my mind heavy with lingering thoughts that I’ll need to sift through at some point.
A sigh escapes me, filled with relief. When I turn to my side, however, I find myself alone in bed, and a twinge of disappointment replaces that relief.
I grab Malakai’s pillow and press it against my chest, his lingering scent filling my nose—hellfire and cinnamon.
One of many things about him to which I’ve become weak.
Closing my eyes again, I bury my face in the pillow as my mind wanders back to last night.
I know I have to tell him—about my suspicions, my fears, and so much more.
A shiver runs down my spine, and I clutch the pillow tighter.
I hope it doesn’t change what’s been growing between us, because something definitely has, getting stronger with each passing day.
Yesterday only reinforced that belief. No matter how often he pushes me away or confuses me, it’s undeniable.
It’s not just me. We don’t put it into words, but it’s there—something more, infinitely more meaningful. The thought of losing it makes my chest ache.
Another sigh breaks free as I reluctantly let go of the pillow. I get out of bed and get ready for the day, then head for the kitchen.
Malakai looks up from what he’s cooking, and his smile brightens his golden eyes. I return his smile, but it doesn’t feel honest. He clearly notices but thankfully doesn’t mention it.
“Great timing. I just finished breakfast,” he says as I slide into a chair. He empties the frying pan onto two plates and sets them on the table. “Soufflé omelette,” he explains, noticing my puzzled look. He pours me a cup of tea and a mug of coffee for himself before joining me.
I carefully cut a piece and pop it into my mouth, almost moaning as the rich flavor of cheddar cheese hits me. His cooking skills never fail to amaze me; I’d gladly eat his food for the rest of my life.
Malakai’s smile widens at my reaction, and he starts on his own plate.
Silence descends between us as we eat. But after a few more bites, I find myself unable to continue. Last night is all I can think about—the near miss, the eyes, the smell, the blossoms. It’s enough to make my stomach turn.
I push my plate away, and Malakai raises an eyebrow.
I have to tell him, but when I open my mouth, the words elude me. Where do I even start without shattering completely?
My eyes shift away from him to my plate, then to my hands folded in my lap.
I suck in a breath, desperate to maintain my composure.
My fingers stretch under my hyper-focused stare, digging into the fabric of my dress.
My nails scrape against my legs, the sting not enough to quell the tremor in my shoulders.
Looking up at him, I find Malakai’s eyes filled with genuine concern—exactly what I need to find my courage, for my voice to return.
“I think Nagamaru…” A hard swallow. “He kept talking as if…” I avert my gaze again, my chest constricting. “His human form looked so familiar…” I bury my face in my hands, trying to maintain control. My heart races, my head pounds, and I’m on the verge of passing out—or throwing up. Perhaps both.
I don’t know if I can say it out loud—if I’m strong enough to rip that old wound open. It’s part of my past, not supposed to be a part of my present. If I say it, it becomes real, part of my future, and I don’t know if I can handle that. I so desperately want to leave all of that behind me.
Malakai gets up and takes a seat beside me. He puts a hand on my back, drawing slow circles that diffuse some of the hysteria building inside me. His touch comforts me and makes me realize something: he’s the only one who has never let me down and will never let me down.
I look up at him, and his eyes convey that truth. Désirée’s words echo in my mind, and I know they’re true for both of us, which makes it even harder to voice my thoughts.
“I think that Nagamaru is the one who raped and sold me that night.”
In the next moment, something shatters against the wall beside me.
I turn my head and see the coffee mug in pieces on the tiled floor, a brown stain dripping down the wall.
Malakai’s eyes darken with fury, the molten gold nearly turning black.
I take back what I thought last night; this is the angriest I’ve ever known him to be.
His energy, his magic, and his whole demeanor scream that he’s about to burn down the world—feral, dangerous, lethal.
“I’m going to kill him,” Malakai snarls, baring his teeth as he abruptly rises from his seat.
“I thought purebloods couldn’t die? That’s what he is, given his heritage.”
Malakai glances back at me, already halfway to the door. “That won’t stop me from ripping his head off.”
While I generally appreciate his protectiveness, this isn’t the best course of action. I rush after him, scarcely believing that I’m the one who has to talk sense into him, even though the mere thought of him tearing Nagamaru to pieces for my sake sends a peculiar heat through my body.
“Mal, I don’t think—”
He yanks open the front door and comes to an abrupt stop when he finds Azraella standing there, hand raised, clearly about to ring the doorbell, her eyes wide in shock.
In his anger, Malakai forgot that he’s wearing his red skin.
Looking only at his back, I can’t tell if he’s deflating or about to redirect his fury at the bounty hunter in front of him.
Azraella drops her hand and backs away from him while I step up next to my seething husband. When I place my hand on his arm, he seems to deflate a bit after all.
“You’re okay.” Azraella sighs in relief when she sees me.
That’s when I remember she was the one who warned me about Nagamaru. The thought slipped my mind with everything that happened last night. Has she been out here the whole time, waiting to find out what happened?
“I am, thank you.” I push past Malakai, uncertain how he’ll react to her—or she to him, for that matter.
Azraella takes a deep breath. “Look,” she starts, her eyes darting to the man at my side, “I know we got off on the wrong foot.”
“Understatement,” Malakai growls, pushing himself away from the door.
“Hey, jerk, I’m trying to apologize here, okay?”
He glances back, his magic swirling in the air of the hallway.
“In case you hadn’t realized, I came after her as a job—one I couldn’t refuse. You should know. And she’s still alive and kicking, isn’t she? You should be fucking grateful I reached out to you last night. I could have easily looked the other way.”
“Wait,” I interrupt. “You warned him? Told him I was in trouble?”
Azraella nods. “I told you I owe you one. And even if I didn’t”—she glares at Malakai—“I’m not a monster.”
His magic surges at my back, ready to throttle her. I send some of my own magic back, wrapping it around his, which finally seems to calm him down.
“Thank you,” I tell her, hoping she knows I genuinely mean it.
“Yeah, well”—her hard shell snaps back up as she glares at Malakai—“don’t count on it happening again.”
“Oh, trust me, we won’t.” He scoffs from behind me.
Azraella snarls at him, then jabs her chin at something next to the door. “That was already there when I got here.” With that, her wings burst from her back, and she takes off.
I turn to find a small package on the steps in front of the door and carefully pick it up.
When I turn back, Malakai is still standing in the hallway, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. Though most of his anger has subsided and his eyes have returned to normal, he’s clearly still upset.
“I meant what I said earlier,” he states, calmer than I know he is, circling back to our interrupted conversation. “I will kill him.”
With the package still in my hand, I walk over to him and wrap my arms around his neck. “Even though he’s your flesh and blood?” I run my free hand through his hair, and he melts against my touch, which makes my heart flutter.
Malakai’s shoulders drop slightly as some of the tension eases. “Yes,” he replies, and I can tell he really means it. He will kill his own flesh and blood to keep me safe, to protect me, to avenge me. It does silly little things to my heart.
“Thank you,” I say, placing a soft kiss on his lips. Stepping away, I return to the kitchen, examining the package in my hand. “I’m just... not sure it’s him.”
Malakai follows me. After setting the package down, I pour us both fresh cups of coffee. He sits back down, waiting for me to continue.
“He seems familiar, and the things he said last night…” My eyes linger on the mugs in my hands. “I barely have any memories from that time, so he could just be trying to manipulate me. And he’s succeeding.”
I place the mugs down and flop back into my chair.
“Didn’t all your memories return?” Malakai asks, reaching for his coffee.
“They did, except for those.” He frowns at me. “They’re blurry—probably because of the trauma. I’m fine with that.” My gaze flicks to my wrists, where I see bleeding cuts that aren’t really there. “I don’t think I want to remember.”
“You don’t have to,” Malakai replies, his voice surprisingly soft. “Like you said, I shouldn’t have let him walk away. That was a mistake.”
A smile tugs at my lips at his words. He might be a terrifying, pureblood demon, but he’s so much more than that—my delightful asshole cinnamon roll.
“Elly,” Malakai groans, exasperation coloring his tone. “I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but I prefer just ‘asshole’.”
My smile blooms into laughter as I rise from my seat once more. I saunter over to him and settle in his lap, straddling him. Malakai’s hand immediately wraps around my waist, pulling me closer and causing my dress to ride up. My breath hitches for a moment before evening out again.
“I missed you,” I whisper, locking my eyes onto his.
He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his gaze softening. “I missed you too, love.” Malakai leans in to kiss me, but something draws his attention away. I look over to see him fixated on the package on the kitchen counter.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Something about that.”
I rise from his lap, a frown etching my features. My hand hovers over the package, and I feel my magic recoil. Whatever’s inside feels… wrong. Was I too distracted to notice it when I held it just moments ago?
The package itself is a simple, dark green gift box. I carefully pull the lid off, only to drop it the moment I catch sight of what’s inside: a finger. My magic goes frantic at the sight, but it’s what else is in the box that makes it hard to breathe—a twig adorned with white-pink blossoms.
“What—”
Malakai stands next to me and swiftly puts the lid back on the box. “We need to talk.”