His grip tightens. Just a fraction. Just enough to know I’m pissing him off.
“Do you actually think barking orders at me is going to make me drop to my knees and say yes, sir, like some obedient little pet?” I draw out the last few words with a mocking purr, tilting my head just enough to catch the flicker in his expression. His pupils blew wide, breath hitching like I’d hit a nerve.
I let out a cold laugh. “Your little girlfriend might fall in line and wag her tail when you growl, but I’m not her.”
His grip loosens just enough for me to slip free, but I don't break eye contact.
“If you seriously thought I’d roll over and come with you, then you're more delusional than I thought.” I spit the last words like venom, done playing nice.
Silence stretches between us, thick and tense, as he just stands there like a constipated statue.
There’s a strange numbness blooming in my chest, not pain exactly, just… hollow. The ache in my head is a low hum, steady and irritating. I’m hoping any second now, maybe he’ll finally grow a brain cell and realise that threatening me isn’t a good idea. Not unless he wants my dagger up his ass.
“Maybe I am delusional.” He says, voice flat and emotionless.
Then he moves.
Fast.
Before I can even roll my eyes at him, he’s closing the distance, a pair of glinting handcuffs in his hand. I’d laugh if there wasn’t something off, something crawling at the edges of my mind.
I step to the side, dodging him before he could even touch me, but he’s fast, and I don’t anticipate the arm coming towards my neck. His hand grazes the skin, and then he’s no longer in front of me.
Malrik slams him against the wall, the plaster cracking behind him as he digs his forearm against his neck. The air buzzes with magic, thrumming off Malrik in furious waves. His face is calm, but it’s the kind of calm that comes before the storm.
“You must have a death wish, hunter scum,” Malrik spits, his tattoos glowing. “Touch her again and I’ll paint the walls with your insides.”
Darian looks at him like he’s something scraped off the bottom of his boot, and honestly, I’m not sure Malrik notices—or cares. He’s too busy radiating pure, murderous fury.
And he’s doing it completely naked.
No shame, no modesty. His cock is still half hard from earlier, from when he had me coming twice on nothing but his very talented tongue.
I try to keep my eyes on his face, but it’s not easy when every inch of him is a reminder of last night.
Malrik is chaos covered in ink, doesn’t care for a single soul and enjoys killing, but I have never seen him truly angry. Not like this. The rage pouring off him in waves is suffocating.
Don’t look down.
As I look at Darian, his sight already set on me, not the pissed off blood mage who has him against the wall. I see hatred cross his features, but I never thought he would want me dead. I have no idea where he ends and the darkness in him begins.
I don’t know if it's him looking at me… or the monster he’s slowly becoming.
And that uncertainty hurts more than any of his threats ever could.
I bite my tongue and move closer to Malrik, only realising that the two men are opposites of each other.
Malrik, my beautiful, unhinged maniac. He’s a monster in his own way, wrapped in pale skin and tattoos that I traced along at some point last night as he claimed he was just resting his eyes, but I know he was sleeping. His shoulder-length black hair was still damp from the shower we barely made it out of, his crimson eyes practically glowing with madness. The piercings—gods, the piercings—many of which I discovered and felt last night. Taller than Darian, all wiry strength and dangerous grace.
Then there’s Darian. The golden boy turned ghost. My first ever friend. Ash-blonde hair he has let grow long, and suits annoyingly well, but instead he keeps his tied back. Broader than Malrik, more muscular like he lives at the gym, more sun-tanned skin and those stunning hazel green eyes that used to be full of warmth, softness and a hint of mischief. Now they are cold. Empty. A mirror of what he’s lost—or worse, what he’s sacrificed.
Once, he was the light to my shadow. Now he’s just… hollow.
“Malrik,” I place my hand on his arm. “Don’t you think you're forgetting something?”
He glances over his shoulder at me, the wild fury twisting his features softens instantly, like it always does when I speak. That terrifying edge slips into something disturbingly tender. Fixation, warmth, and something dangerously close to love.
“I forgot to kiss you,” he flexes his hand around Darian’s neck. “I’ll change that once I’m done with this dick head.”
