Chapter 26
Maeve.
She wanted more than anything to walk away. To leave the balcony of her chambers and crash into the warm, silken sheets of her canopy bed.
Maeve.
She cursed under her breath. Thunder that rumbled across the sea in the Dread Lands sounded unmistakably like laughter. Giggling, horrible laughter. Mal’s voice continued to call to her.
Maeve.
Maeve.
Her knees pressed into the cool stone of the balcony. Her cheek pressed against the rail of the balcony. Her body ached for rest. For sleep. His voice plagued her.
Maeve.
Please stop, she begged that distant thunder.
Another laugh echoed across the sea.
Maeve.
“Mal, please, wake up,” she whispered.
The thunder settled for a moment, still and quiet, and Mal’s voice faded. A swell of hope rose in her chest. But distant laughter rang across the Black Deep.
Maeve.
Maeve.
Maeve.
She felt Reeve move behind her. She still didn’t know if it was purely his raw, lethal power that resonated through his body, or because she was not much of a Witch without her own Magic, that he had such an effect on her now.
“I can’t look away,” she uttered.
“From the mountains?”
Maeve.
“He calls to me,” was all she replied.
Reeve moved closer, watching The Dark Peaks with contempt in his eyes. But his voice was a soft hum. “You hear it often?” he said.
He ran his fingers through his hair.
Maeve.
Reeve kneeled at her side, slowly bringing himself to her level.
“I can’t tell if he’s calling my name in a prayer or a curse,” she confessed softly, wiping her eyes pridefully before more tears fell. “I’m not sure which is worse.”
She stood tall and faced him, forcing down the remaining tears.
“Can you hear it?” she asked.
He shook his head.
Maeve.
“Then why are you here?” she asked sharply.
Reeve studied her face for a moment. “Because I can feel you.”
“Right,” she said with a nod. “Our lovely little bond.”
There was nothing lovely in her tone.
Reeve hummed. “You’ve pleaded for my help many times through that lovely little bond.”
Maeve.
She sighed, accepting Mal’s voice would remain in her head. That it would likely keep her from sleep.
“You’re so stubborn,” commented Reeve, but his tone was laced with something like a compliment. “I could help you sleep. My Magic, there are potions—”
“No,” she said plainly.
She turned towards the doors to her chamber, dismissing the idea entirely and leaving him on the balcony.
Green firelights flickered in the darkness, illuminating the walls of the North Tower in Castle Morana. Maeve’s heart raced, jumping out of her chest.
No. She couldn’t be back there. She tried to move, frozen in place.
Mal’s bed came into focus, and it was occupied.
Shadow pulled her long white hair to the side, exposing her breasts. She tossed her head back in pleasure as Mal lay beneath her. His hands gripped her hips, pulling and pushing her in a steady rhythm.
A sick and draining feeling dripped through her at the sight.
Shadow’s blue eyes appeared almost black in the dim light. A serpent’s tongue slipped from her mouth, long and unnatural. She arched her back, leaning towards Mal’s face as she continued to ride him. The tongue slid across his neck, his jaw, his lips—
Maeve’s body moved at once, but the North Tower at Castle Morana disappeared, her gaze now fixed on the muraled ceiling above her bed in the Celestian Palace.
Chills covered her arms and legs as she gripped the sheets beneath her.
Her stomach threatened to empty itself with every replay of what she had seen.
Not a nightmare. No. That was real. If he could speak into her mind from such a distance, then she supposed he and Shadow could torture her further. But she had the strangest inclination she couldn’t quite explain, the feeling that neither Shadow nor Mal had been aware she was watching.
She kicked the covers off and pushed out of the bed, quickly pushing her hair from her face and discarding her nightgown as she walked to the ensuite bathroom.
She turned the golden knobs of the sink with haste and splashed her face with cold water, letting it drip down her bare chest. She placed a cold, wet hand on the back of her neck and gripped the edge of the sink with the other.
Maeve let out a jagged breath. Why had she seen that, of all things? Her stomach rolled at the thought of his hands on another. Of his body being used without his consent.
That horrible creature. . .
She let go of the sink and lay down on the cool tiles, letting the cold lower her body temperature. She wouldn’t be able to sleep, just as the past few nights had been sleepless. The intimate moment she witnessed played on repeat in her mind.
Breakfasts, and lunches, and dinners with Reeve blurred.
She lost count of how many mundane meals they shared, Meals where she hated the taste of food and ate just enough that he wouldn’t comment on it.
He never told her much of the moves he was making, but she still refused to help him stoke the fires of rebellion on Heims.
Sleep was rare. The more she watched Shadow and Mal together in her mind, the further from a rebel she felt.
“I’ve been seeing them when I sleep,” said Maeve, pushing around part of her meal. “They’re not dreams, though.”
“What are they?”
“I guess. . .visions. But not like the future. It’s like I’m somewhere else in my mind, watching, but I can’t move. I’ve had them before. I saw. . .”
“What?” he pressed.
It was a long time ago, but she’d seen it somehow.
Maeve didn’t look at him. “You on the battlefield. With Shadow.”
Reeve didn’t dwell on the comment. “What have you seen most recently?”
“I see them fucking,” she admitted, the words tasting like filth in her mouth. “I watch that gaunt, slimy woman begging for his heir inside her.” Maeve stabbed the meat on her plate with enough force to rattle the table. “It makes me want to vomit.”
Reeve’s face faltered, and the color in his eyes drained slightly. “She wants to bear his children?”
“Yes,” said Maeve. “Not incredibly enjoyable to see.”
He was silent for a moment, then spoke after a long exhale.
“Do you know what happened to Mal’s ancestors? Orion the Dread and all his children?”
Maeve shook her head.
“She absorbed their Dread Magic.”
Maeve’s grip on her knife and fork slid loose.
“Just as she’s doing to Malachite. Just as she will do to the children he may give her.”
She really would be sick at any moment. She was speechless. Completely speechless. Reeve ran his tattooed fingers over his face and closed his eyes. Only after a moment did Maeve offer a small piece of information back to Reeve.
“She made a vow with me,” she said, causing his eyes to snap back open. “She will not kill him.”