11. A Kiss To Destroy Me
CHAPTER 11
A Kiss To Destroy Me
Melinda Mayweather
“How did you know we were in this room?” Kellan pulls me away from Hawke, back behind him again. I know he thinks I’m vulnerable, but I’m the one most people should be scared of… and maybe that’s part of it. Maybe he’s just trying to keep me from getting overwhelmed. Overloaded emotions go so smoothly for me.
“The Upir aren’t in charge yet, Drakonii. We still have staff in every corridor and my brother is easily recognized. As are you, after the scene in the marketplace.” The new guy shifts from foot to foot, clearly unsure how to handle the room, but used to being in charge. Used to being obeyed. The air of authority is similar to Hawke’s.
Kellan makes a growling huff that sounds more bear than man. “I need to get you upstairs into a private chamber where people will not be bursting in unannounced. We’ve already drawn too much attention, Domina .”
I put a hand on his arm and shake my head. “I don’t think hiding will help at this point. I almost went nuclear and hurt people, but I’m exhausted right now. It’s fine.”
“What is nuclear?” Hawke raises an eyebrow and takes a hesitant step toward me, watching Kellan’s response carefully. “Kellan used his magick in the market. He was the one that caused the panic.”
I shake my head again. “No.”
“ Domina. ”
I ignore the warning. “He was protecting everyone from me.” I turn and look up at Kellan. His face is calm, but I see the anxious tic in his cheek. The tension where he’s grinding his teeth. He doesn’t like me sharing details, but I can trust Hawke. I don’t know how I know… but I’m sure. "I don't get how you're okay. Usually, when I lose control like that... people get hurt. Bad. You were right there, holding me."
Kellan’s face softens. “We are bonded, Domina. Your magick cannot hurt me.”
Surprise freezes me in place. I can't hurt Kellan. Someone who can help me control this... power, and won't die if I lose it. He has no idea what a lifeline that is... The relief washing over me is indescribable.
“Look, I hate to break this moment of awakening up for the both of you, but the High Council has issued a call requiring Kellan to appear immediately.” The stranger speaks up again, stepping closer to Hawke.
Where Hawke has dark hair mixed with silver, this man has golden blonde, but their faces are eerily similar. Brothers?
“The High Council is already here?” Hawke’s mouth twists into an ugly frown.
The other man nods. “They arrived just before the incident. Darkwood apparently witnessed the whole thing.”
“Fuck,” Hawke growls out under his breath. “They’ll expect the Knights soon for the Fealty Swearing.”
“Yes, are all five of you here yet?” The other man asks and Hawke shakes his head, as if dismissing the question.
The worry in Hawke’s voice triggers my magick. “What is the High Council?” I look at Kellan. “Did you do something wrong by shielding me? You protected everyone, they can’t punish you for that, can they?” My heart speeds in my chest and energy ripples through my body. I can’t lose Kellan. He’s the only thing between my magick and me accidentally killing people. “Kellan?” His name comes out like a desperate sob.
“Who is the woman and why am I suddenly nauseated? Ugh.” The blond man bends at the waist and takes a deep breath. Hawke is pale too and breathing shallowly.
“ Domina . Look at me.” Kellan grabs my shoulders and bends down to look me straight in the eyes. “Breathe. Slow. In for one, two, three, four. Hold it.”
I hold my breath and focus on the green flames dancing in his eyes.
“Now out slowly. One. Two. Three. Four.”
I follow his instructions and feel the buzz inside me settling down. I try to glance at Hawke, but Kellan gently turns my face back to him, keeping me focused.
“You will not lose me, Domina . I will go and apologize to the High Council. I will be humble and smooth the feathers of the political peacocks until they’re chirping again, happy in their belief that they are in charge of everything.”
“Political peacocks.” I straight up laugh. The rest of my nervous energy completely dissipates and I am still on the inside again.
“Very good, Domina. That was a very quick recovery.” He releases my chin and squeezes my shoulder before completely releasing me.
“What in fate’s destiny was that?” The stranger spits out. “I have the need a visit to a well, but I didn’t use any magick. What is she?”
“ She , is none of your concern, princeling. And you will not speak of her to a single soul, is that clear. Neither of you will.” Kellan’s tattoos shimmer green and his voice rumbles with a hint of his inner dragon. Frankly, if I wasn’t psychically connected to him by the slithering dragon-y-snake on my wrist, I’d probably be terrified. But the connection assures me that his aggression isn’t at all directed at me.
“ She is everyone’s concern if that’s what it’s like to be around her… what happened?”
“Destrien, you will not speak of her. Just as Kellan of Gilat ordered. I give you the same order. For her sake and mine, you must help keep her existence hidden from the High Council.” Hawke takes a step toward Kellan. “How will you explain your use of magick to the Council?”
“I will not explain. I will merely apologize for the disruption.”
Hawke presses his lips tight and rolls his neck. “Darkwood will not let that be the end. If what my brother says is true, he would’ve seen Lady Melinda.”
Kellan leans closer to Hawke and lowers his voice to a whisper. “Darkwood is not my king. I do not fear him or his influence.”
“Must be nice.” Hawke’s brother, Destrien crosses his arms over his broad chest.
“It is.” That same wicked grin Kellan used on Hawke when he knocked him into the dirt shows up on his face again. “Where are they, Prince Destrien?”
“They’re in the Hall of Grievances through the north door of the throne room. Do you–”
“I know it.” Kellan looks to Hawke. “If I leave my Domina with you, will she be safe?”
“Death would have to take me before harm would befall her. I give you my word.”
Death. Wait. What? “What is going on?”
Kellan takes my hand and squeezes it gently. “Political peacocks, Domina. I must make myself appear unimportant and seek forgiveness for offending them.”
I nod. “But they won’t hurt you…will they?”
“No, I will be fine. Stay with the Stormblood princes. I will be back as soon as the High Council has been sufficiently placated. Domina , do you understand? And no matter what happens–” He looks at the two men again. “Do not let Nimue take her from your sight.”
They both nod and a moment later Kellan’s gone and I’m standing alone with both Hawke and Destrien, princes of Avalon. I clasp my hands together in front of me, painfully aware of how see-through my dress is all of a sudden. How much of my cleavage is showing. How much skin shows through the slits in the skirts.
Hawke is staring at me the way Kellan described it earlier. Like he’s hungry and I’m the meal. But I like it. I like that he’s looking at me that way. I just wish his brother wasn’t here watching.
“I’m going to step outside and give the two of you a moment, if that’s acceptable to you milady?”
“Yes, do that,” Hawke says, not breaking eye contact with me for a second.
“I was asking her , brother.”
“Yes, it’s fine. You can give us a moment.” I manage to tear my gaze away from Hawke and meet his brother’s piercing stare. “I need to speak to Hawke alone.” I work hard to get the words out. All I can think about is how much I want to touch Hawke again. I’m terrified too, but right now my better judgment is buried beneath my overwhelming desire to make contact.
Destrien grunts in a typical guy way and leaves the room.
Hawke's still staring at me.
“You’re here.” His voice is so quiet. Reverent almost.
Doubt pushes at me from all sides, though. I have so many unanswered questions. “I really wish someone would explain to me what’s going on. Why everyone is suspicious of Queen Nimue. Why I saw you when I touched that door in the cave. Why Kellan doesn’t think I’m human.”
His reaction is immediate, eyebrows arching in surprise or perhaps concern at my barrage of questions. “Because you have magick. No human possesses magick and certainly not magick such as yours.”
He steps closer, and the air between us seems to charge with energy. “May I?” He gestures toward my hand.
I reach out and put my hand in his. The moment we touch, a shiver runs through me. It's not cold—it's like my body recognizes him. A warmth spreads through me, and touching him just feels... right. Like every moment of my life has been leading to this. Like this is exactly where I'm supposed to be.
“You feel it, too? When we touch.” I whisper, barely daring to breathe, afraid to break the spell woven around us. I don’t ever want him to let go of me.
“Yes.” His voice is a mere breath against my skin, sending ripples of anticipation through me.
“It’s—” I start, but I don’t know how to explain it.
“Perfect.” The word slips out, a confession of the soul, as he steps even closer, eliminating the last remnants of space between us. He places my palm to his chest, the gentle thump thump of his heart anchors me to him, while his other hand cups my face so tenderly it’s like a balm to all the wounds I didn’t even know I had.
Yes. Perfect is right.
I lean into his touch, craving more in a way that surprises me. It's not just physical—I'm starving for understanding, for belonging. Wrapped up in his warmth, I want so badly to be good... to deserve whatever this is between us. The intensity of that desire scares the hell out of me.
Our eyes lock, a silent conversation of desires and promises. A potential bond I don’t understand yet, hangs between us. Every doubt, every fear melts away under the intensity of his gaze, leaving only the pure unbridled hope of what we could be be together.
Both his hands are on my face now, his thumbs gently stroking my cheeks as if he could wipe away all the shadows of my past with a single touch. His eyes, brimming with an emotion so profound, peer into mine. And I feel seen–truly seen–for the first time in my life.
Then he's kissing me. His lips are firm, warm, sure. Our tongues meet, and it's like a slow dance. My chest tightens, aches, and my pulse roars in my ears. The world around us fades, leaving nothing but the electrifying touch of his lips on mine.
I grab his shirt, bunching the fabric in my fists. It's like I need to hold onto something real, to keep myself in this moment with him. I steal his breath and give him mine. I never want this kiss to end.
He takes my tongue into his mouth, hungrily. Frantic. Like he can’t get enough. Like he’ll never get enough. I feel the same. The taste of him–earthy and sweet, uniquely him–will forever be etched in my memory. His hands roam my back, pulling me closer, erasing any space left between us, as if trying to meld our bodies into one.
He pulls back just a fraction, resting his forehead against mine. His breath is warm on my skin as he whispers, “By fate, you are more than I could have ever imagined. A gift I'll treasure for all my life.” His words wrap around my heart, so tender and real. They promise a future full of love and connection.
Life… All his life. The weight of what he's saying hits me, and suddenly I feel cold all over. Dread spreads through me like ice in my veins. No. No. No. I’m so stupid.
“No.” The word erupts from me like a cry for help. I shove hard, distancing myself with a step back. “I can’t. We can’t.” Tears, hot and relentless, carve paths down my cheeks, and I hurriedly swipe them away, hoping he doesn’t notice.
“Fuck. I–” Hawke’s voice cracks, layered with confusion and hurt as he backs away from me, retreating several steps. “I would never force myself… You said you felt the connection. I thought–” His words trail off, leaving an echo of pain in the silence.
“I did. But–” I hesitate, the admission catching in my throat. “I’m dangerous. I’ll hurt you.” The confession hangs between us like an ugly oozing wound.
“You’d never hurt me, Melinda, but the damned dragon was right. I took liberties. Forgive me.” His eyes, blazing bright with turmoil, meet mine. They’re not filled with anger at me, but with self-reproach. He’s blaming himself.
I shake my head, holding my hand to my mouth. I can still feel his lips. Still taste him. I want more. “I did want you to kiss me. We just–” My voice breaks, the words trapped by fear. I can’t say it. I can’t bear the thought of him looking at me with anything other than the affection he’s shown me. I don’t want his hate. I don’t think I could live through it.
“Have to be proper about this. Of course.” He looks up at me again, flashing me a smile that shatters my heart all over again. I want that smile. I want his kisses. I want to be treasured forever. But loving me is a death sentence. It's my curse to carry, not his. I will never let it be his.