Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 200096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1000(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 667(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 200096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1000(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 667(@300wpm)
“You dare touch me?” I have never been skilled at containing my temper, and now is no exception. I lash out with my last threads of Vin’nyla, dragging the air from the guard’s lungs. He releases my arm in a fit of coughs, his face turning red as he struggles to breathe.
It holds only moments before I lose my grip of him, my affinities dwindled to nothing. But it’s enough.
Gasping to refill his lungs, he gestures ahead, now keeping his distance.
“Do not lay a hand on me ever again or I will be the last female you touch,” I warn crisply. Perhaps making enemies of the guards is not smart on my part, but they should not forget what I am. Pulling my shoulders back, I walk the rest of the way to the king’s chamber where two Saur’goths wait.
My guards want even less to do with them than me and linger at the corner.
Releasing a heavy sigh of annoyance, I stroll in. “Your Highness, you summoned me?”
“In here, my love,” comes his deep, velvety voice from the direction of the bedroom.
My stomach drags on the marble floor as I move through the expansive sitting area of opulent gilding and moody, soot-black Baroque décor and into the bedroom.
I freeze at the horrid scene before me, grabbing the doorframe to keep from buckling.
This is not Elijah, I remind myself, rage and pain warring inside me as I watch Malachi use my husband’s body to pleasure that simpering Kettling fool, sprawled out on his bed.
“There you are.” Elijah’s deep voice fills my ear. He holds her legs in place as he kneels over her. “I was wondering when my queen would gather enough ‘fresh air,’” he says between thrusts that are growing in intensity by the second.
Lady Saoirse lets a cry slip, and then tips her head back and offers a coy smile. It disappears when she sees my face.
I hope she enjoys fucking my husband tonight because tomorrow I will hunt her down and—
“You can undress now.” Malachi cuts into my murderous plot. “I will be done with this one shortly.”
This is not Elijah, I remind myself as my heart constricts. But Elijah is an unwilling participant. He would never touch another woman, and yet he is forced to do it with me watching. He must be in agony, seeing my reaction to it.
This is Malachi’s style. I knew he would make me suffer, but I should have expected this. “I have been healing the garden all evening and I am tired, Your Highness. I would very much prefer to—”
My words die as my skin ignites in flame, pain slicing through my flesh in an instant, searing every nerve ending. The burn is unbearable, and I have no defenses left, save for my shrill screams.
Just as quickly as the coat of fire arrived, it vanishes.
I stare at my smooth, uncharred flesh, my hands shaking. The stench of singed hair fills the air, but when I paw at my head, soft strands meet my touch.
Did I imagine that? Malachi was skilled at playing mind games—one moment Elijah lay in his tomb, the next he did not.
But Lady Saoirse has abandoned all pretenses of pleasure, gaping at me in horror. Whether she saw the flames as I did or not, surely, she heard my screams. My throat is raw.
“You were saying?” Challenge sparkles in Malachi’s eyes.
“Yes, Your Highness.” I reach behind me for the fastener at the top of my dress.
With a grin of satisfaction, Malachi flips Lady Saoirse over onto her hands and knees and reenters her as I disrobe.
28
Romeria
Zander pauses, inked quill in hand. “How did I get roped into writing letters to Ybarisan nobility I have never met?”
“I haven’t met them either.” I pop a raspberry into my mouth. I can’t remember the last time I ate. The castle came awake as soon as word spread that Queen Romeria had returned, with lady’s maids rushing to prepare a bath and meal. “Plus, you’re so much better and faster at it than I am.” Writing that letter to Atticus took me forever.
“Flattery might get you somewhere with me.” He smirks. “Anything else you’d like to add?”
“Depends.” I pause in my pacing to admire the castle spires from the window of Neilina’s chambers. “What have I said?”
“That Queen Neilina is dead, and you are the crowned ruler of Ybaris. You have allied with Islor to defeat the Nulling’s beasts and Islor’s impostor king, who will bring ruin and suffering to all.”
“Do I need to add something about expecting their fealty and all that other stuff?” I wave a dismissive hand.
“As Ybaris’s queen, it is implied.”
I shrug. “Okay. Then I guess I have nothing to add.”
His eyebrow arches. “Nothing at all to help bolster your people’s confidence in you and in our union?”
“Fine. Tell them what a good lay the king of Islor is.”