“Mal doesn’t have many goals. There is only one goal. All the realms. Under his crown.” Abraxas looked up at her at last. His eyes widened slightly. “Oh,” he said, seeing through her at once as a grin split wide on his face. “I knew it, cousin.”
“Seal your lips, Brax,” said Maeve, her stomach rolling with unwanted energy.
Jealousy. It was pure jealousy.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” he offered, his tone casual and confident.
“Does it even matter?” asked Maeve softly, her fingers winding through Lyrux’s soft locks. “It is but a dream,” she said softly. “One I will surely be denied.”
“Ambition propels him to her. But there is deeper Magic in you that calls to him. I can see it.” He paused. “I can feel it.”
Maeve laughed, a mixture of embarrassment and vulnerability. “You really do know everything.”
Abraxas bowed his head at her in thanks.
She shook her head and groaned. “Here I am, openly admitting I want another man, while my husband is off fighting a war.”
“Oh, please,” said Abraxas, his chin lowering. “He’s been home twice to see a certain redhead and didn’t even visit you.”
Abraxas knew it wouldn’t sting her, and it wasn’t said with the intention to. Maeve had known for quite some time that Alphard’s heart lay with another. She’d even suggested they part ways amicably, but Alphard insisted he couldn’t do that to Maxius.
She dreaded the day she’d have to tell him the truth. Maxius too. She’d been putting off the reality of it, at least until she and Mal had a better understanding of just how much of what they believed was a lie. The truth was a terrifying thought. The possibilities of what once was were many.
“When will he be back?” she asked, standing smoothly to hand off Lyrux to Abraxas.
“Soon, by dawn I imagine,” he replied, taking Lyrux in one arm and positioning his head on his shoulder.
Maeve bid her cousin goodnight and didn’t tell him she was headed for the Prince’s study.
There were no enchantments around the doors. No protective barrier to keep Mal’s study private. She wondered if that was because no one would dare invade his space, or if it was an invitation for her to. She closed the door behind her, leaning against it for a moment and taking in the large room.
Glass-covered shelves housed everything from books to vials, all organized and labeled. She crossed the study, observing each shelf. Some of them were filled to the ceiling with dark objects thatpulsed with Magic. None of it compared to Mal’s. She’d never felt something so paramount and consuming.
She couldn’t imagine a force greater.
She stopped before an entire cabinet of pages. Worn and blank. Curiosity got the better of her. She pulled open the glass doors gently with a wave of her palm. As she sifted through the various pieces of parchment, she confirmed they were truly all empty. Hundreds of pages, stacked in the cabinet with nothing on them.
Thunk.
Her heart stilled at the sound from behind her. Turning, she saw the firelight on Mal’s desk was now aglow, casting light onto the only object sitting on the oversized piece of furniture.
The ring she’d seen on his finger, The Dread Ring, she knew it to be called, sat at the center of his desk like an offering. The dark stone of the ring appeared almost molten against the small and enchanted flame that sat on his desk.
She shifted her own ring, the one her father had given her, with her thumb, as the unavoidable feeling that The Dread Ring too belonged on her finger thrummed through her.
She yielded a step to the thought.
It couldn’t hurt just to try it on. Just to feel even a flicker of him through the Magic that resonated from the stone. Maybe then she could let the notion of him rest.
A lie. There were times when his stoic gaze was on her that she could swear he was running through her very veins.
Another step closer to the ring.
No one else has fucked you, Maeve, because you know they’d never be crawling through your skin like I am.
She stalled, a heavy curse stinging from her lips as his voice, a memory buried deep, sliced across her mind. Her fingers were steady as they brushed down her neck, hovering over the black inky veins she’d been scarred with.
Another step, and she stood above the Dread Ring. It hummed with Magic, his Magic and ancient Magic all mixed into one. She stared at it until its pulse was one with hers. Her fingers hovered above the skulls holding the dark stone in place.
