Reeve poured them both sparkling water. “No,” he said. “I have a request for this evening.”
Maeve’s brows raised. Reeve continued.
“No politics. No war. No remorse. Not tonight.” He handed her one goblet and raised his own, until their rims touched midair. His eyes were heavy with steadfast, dark intensity. “Tonight, I want to fall in love with you again.”
A positive charge shot through her. She smiled with a satisfied hum.
Maeve leaned towards him, their goblets still raised between them. “You already have.”
Reeve grumbled a laugh, never breaking their eye contact. “If you think this is me being in love with you, you’re in for a surprise.”
“What’s different than last time, then?” she challenged, enjoying every second of his eyes on her. “You buy me things. You can’t keep your hands off me.”
Reeve placed his goblet down, and his fingers wrapped around her wrist, tugging her closer to the edge of her seat. “You want to know what will be different this time, kitten?”
Maeve nodded in his hold.
“This time,” he continued, bringing his free hand to hold her chin in his broad grasp, “will be very different. I need you to know that if we do this, you will be by my side until death. I will not give you up without a fight a second time. If redemption is what you seek for Malachite, then I can stand at your side. But if your goal is a life with him after this, you must tell me, and I will deny myself the dream.” His thumb pressed into her bottom lip. “I’ll repeat myself: If you become mine once more, I will not give you up a second time.”
A reply caught in her throat. The answer was a betrayal she wasn’t ready to voice.
Reeve's thumb bristled over her lip, swiping back and forth in a taunting movement. “This time,” he said once more, “I want to cherish you boldly. Not in darkened corners or behind closed doors. I want to stand with you in the light.” His hand slid up her face, sliding gently over her hair, ensuring not to mess it up. “I want to put a crown on your head.”
The image, the thought, the words—hiswords had her nearly coming out of her seat and into his. He smiled, dark and devious, like he knew exactly that.
“This is dangerous,” she said, her voice low and even. “You are dangerous.”
Reeve nodded, accepting fully the truth of her words. “And that’s why you like it, isn’t it?” His eyes slid down to her lips. His thumb shifted, piercing the soft skin and causing a jolt to move through her. A sigh ran through him. “Such a pretty girl.”
Before the confidence could leave her, she moved her mouth around his thumb, teeth barely pressing into his skin. He allowed her to hold him there.
“I bite,” said Maeve lowly, her tongue flicking across the skin of his thumb.
Reeve nodded. “You’ll beg, too.”
Maeve’s jaw loosened, and then she swallowed hard.
Satisfied, he pulled back, and she took a moment to compose herself. Food appeared before them, filling their places. Maeve knew at once it was Zimsy’s cooking.
“Did you make Zimsy cook for us?” she asked.
“Firstly,” he replied, “no one makes Zimsy do anything.” He said it like he felt sorry for the soul who tried. Maeve held her chin proudly at the sentiment. “Secondly,” continued Reeve, “she insisted.”
“How did she even know?”
“She was in the kitchen baking when I went to speak to the chefs about it.”
Maeve eyed him, uncertain if he was telling the truth. Either way, she was grateful it was Zimsy’s cooking she was about to devour.
Chapter 42
A square piece of parchment lay on top of Maeve’s notes and writing on Shadow Magic. She read it with heavy breaths, exhausted from traversing Shadow’s mind of her time at Vaukore, and then practicing her technique on Reeve. The lettering was unmistakably Abraxas’, but the words read nothing like her cousin’s hand.
“Earth,” she said with a sigh. “The leader of the Magical Militia remaining on Earth has agreed to encourage the leaders of the human world to stand down.” She shook her head. “Not that it matters. Mal could take it all without a fight.”
“From what I’ve gathered, ‘leader’ is a generous term. The Magical society and the militia on Earth are pure chaos.”
She read over the words once more and shook her head. “Why doesn’t he just use his Pathokenesis abilities and force the Magical Militia left on Earth to comply? I don’t understand,” she said bitterly and closed her eyes and sank further into her chair.
