Relief swept through her. Relief that swiftly vanished as words spilled from Alphard’s mouth and he stopped Abraxas’ hands from pinning the broach to his uniform. “No.”
“Alphard,” Abraxas snapped under his breath.
Mal looked over his shoulder at him, a confident challenge in his voice. “No?”
Alphard took a step towards Mal, Magic pouring from his palm. “You’re right. I don’t deserve this honor.”
Mal turned towards him fully, standing between him and Maxius. Alphard continued, his temper swelling with each curling movement of his fingers.
“And that’s fine with me,” continued Alphard smugly, “because the next time you bruise her, I won’t just take her from you. I’ll kill you where you stand.”
Maeve moved between them at once. It was only a few steps, but she Obscured, placing her back to Alphard and keeping her eyes on Mal.
“He doesn’t mean that, Mal,” she said swiftly. “There is other Magic speaking for him. Magic that forced him to agree to help me in the first place.”
“Is that what you told yourself, Mavros?” Mal asked. “That you had no say?”
Alphard nearly growled as their Magic pressed towards one another. Maeve continued to try to reason with Mal.
“He made a promise with my brother, a blood pact to protect me.”
Mal’s lip curled. “I’m well aware. I can see it dripping from his hand now.” Their Magic continued to confront the other’s, testing who would snap first. “You know what else I can see?” His arm raised, his eyes never leaving Alphard’s, and pointed at Roswyn. “He bears the same vow.”
Mal nodded triumphantly, right as Alphard tensed.
“And he,” seethed Mal, “did not touch what wasmine.”
Maeve’s breath caught.
“You may have forgotten it, thanks to the treacherous viper standing between us, but I made it clear to you that you were forbidden to marry her. Forbidden to touch her in the ways only I should touch her.”
Mal stepped back slightly, his eyes slowly becoming more green, and lingered across Maeve’s body.
“You did both,” said Mal darkly.
Swirls of dark Magic manifested from the ground beneath him, snaking up his legs and wrapping his torso. As it grew higher, the darkness lifted in color, turning iridescent and solid, until Shadow stood clinging to Mal like a vine.
Her voice was almost childlike as she whined against him. “Malachite. Let’s move this along now.”
Hope flickered out like the end of a candle as his eyes became fully green.
“If a fight is what you seek, Mal,” spat Alphard, “then I’ll gladly give you one.”
Shadow moved towards the throne, casually placing herself upon it. Mal made a small sound of disgust and turned towards Maxius. “What a waste of my time that would be.”
Maxius, whose brows were pulled together anxiously as he watched the tension unfold between them, looked up at Mal.
“There’s only one with Magic that could rival mine,” said Mal. “And I know just how to pull it out of her.”
He moved with devastating grace. His arm slid across his front as one slender finger, dripping with Magic, too much Magic for the child before him, crackled across his hand. As he took aim at Maxius, the boy instinctively mirrored the King, pointing one tiny protective finger up at his father.
Chapter 18
Lightning shattered through the hall, cracking into the jet of light that burst from Mal’s fingertip. It ricocheted into the vaulted ceiling and slammed into a sculpture of an oversized serpent. The creature’s marbled head severed, crumbling to the floor with massive force. Debris from the hit scattered across the hall. Light dust from the destroyed fixture plumed in the air.
Maxius fell backwards, looking at his fingers in shock. But he, and the entire present company, swiftly realized it wasn’t the young boy who fired such an extraordinary force of Magic.
The Dread King’s eyes were already on Maeve, where she stood between him and Maxius.
