With a sharp inhale, his mouth was on hers, their lips fighting for dominance. His hands hooked behind her knees and pulled hard. She gripped him tightly as her behind slammed into the wooden desk. Mal moved himself hungrily between her legs as he bit into her bottom lip.
Her fingers wound through his raven hair as his tongue trailed down her neck. Bliss settled deep in her stomach. Reason and sensibility nowhere to be found.
“When was the last time you were touched in such a way?” he murmured into her skin.
“I can’t recall ever being touched so sinfully.”
Mal nipped at the base of her neck, bringing her shoulders tensely up. His teeth sank into her skin, freezing her entire body like trapped prey. His mouth clamped down harder, causing her fingers to twist tightly through his hair, desperate to inflict pain of her own.
His teeth pulled from her skin with a sharp exhale, and his forehead trailed across hers. Together they shared one breath. Mal slid a finger over her bottom lip, rolling it down.
“You are a dangerous dream,” he said. “My mind is filled with nightmares, and they do not enjoy sharing me.”
His lips met hers, and his tongue dragged across her own.
“Now that I have tasted you,” he said, pulling back, all points of his contact tightening, “I know with certainty that there is much we’ve yet to remember.”
Maeve scooted closer until the heat between her legs met the growing and bulging desire beneath his hips. “Remind me.”
Chapter 14
Mal stood at the edge of the Dark Peaks, Mount Morte behind him. The Greywood extended farther than he remembered, circling back to The Beryl City. The Dreaded Dead that lurked there moved in silence, observing him, but never moving without command.
Hercommand.
The waters of The Black Deep vanished over the horizon.
Vanished.
He couldn’t shake the feeling, as he had for quite some time, that something about that horizon was strange. That it lacked. That it too was a lie.
The Dread Stone, the last piece he needed, remained out of his reach. Not a trace of it. Not a single writing or clue as to its whereabouts. Still, he knew it was out there somewhere. He’d overturn every single stone in the Elven Realm to ensure it wasn’t hiding there.
He’d wandered through the Greywood endlessly searching for answers, answers he was on the brink of finding. He’d delayed his Queen for as long as he could. Now she’d grown strong enough to manifest a body. One with eyes too beautiful to possibly be hers.
Her skin was paper white. The first time he saw her form, she was nearly transparent. Every muscle and vein in her body visible through her thin skin. Now, her hair had grown long and straight and whiter than snow. Her lips were cold and distant. Like kissing a phantom.
Maeve’s lips were the first warm thing he’d felt in. . .
And now that he’d had her fully, regret sat deep between his ribs. The Elven Lands and his victory there felt disappointing in comparison to the way she lost herself beneath him. He now ruled a fourth realm.
And he didn’t fucking care.
Acidburned against his mind, a silent reminder of what he gave in exchange for power. That it would not be Maeve who warmed his lips any longer, that it was his Queen who spoke of heirs.
That was the bargain. The vow.
A Magically-binding promise of an heir in her belly, and all would bow before him. A pact made before he knew. . . Maxius needed him. Both Maeve and his soon-to-be crowned Queen would have to endure the truth that the Magic, stifled and trapped within Maxius, was his to unleash.
Back in the North Tower, he silently crossed his chambers.
Maeve slept soundly in his bed. Before he left her, Mal adjusted the duvet over her exposed back and placed a heavy shield of Magic around her, aiding in her sleep.
She looked just as he’d left her.
The bedding shifted beneath him as he moved over her, pulling back the covers. She stirred slightly, lifting her arms above her head in a sleepy stretch. Morning light peeked through the windows as he watched her frame twist towards him. The cool air prickled across her skin, making her even more devourable.
The black veins that ran the length of her body pulsed beneath his touch. He delighted in the way her body responded so eagerly to him. His fingers dipped past her navel, each hand pressing into her thighs and spreading her legs slowly.
