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Her stomach twisted and turned all over itself. She’d gotten this place specifically because she could see all four corners of it—specifically because of how small and cosy it was;how it had made her feel safe.
Now, in Malachi’s sudden, unexpected absence, it felt almost cavernous. How had she gotten so used to his presence in such a short amount of time?
She felt almost … naked, without him here, which only increased herpanic. She couldn’t be feeling like this—whateverthiswas. She needed to remember sheonly needed him so she could enact her revenge without consequences. She needed to take several steps back, ASA-fucking-P.
Her revenge would soon be coming to an end anyway, and then she wouldn’t need Malachi anymore; she would never have to ever see him again.
Her chest constricted painfully. She blamed the sudden, panicked racing of her heartbeat and the empty hollowness in her stomach on her annoyance, and nothing else.
Malachi stared down at Desmond, still stubbornly clinging to the last wisps of his life, while Joy’s last words rang through his skull.
Do whatever you want.You don’t need my permission.
Her emotions had betrayed her though, her heartbeat stuttering at the lie. Malachi’s heart had warmed at how fucking adorable she was, at the same time that her words had reminded him of what this was.
To Joy, no matter what her emotions said, Malachi was simply a means to an end. Her panic at him needing to leave for a moment had nothing to do with how she felt about him,buteverything to do with what she needed him to do for her.
It was just the plain truth, but it still tore savagely at Malachi like someone was shredding apart his skin and bones. Almighty, he’d had one singletasteof companionship—of what it could simplyfeellike—and he’d folded like a—what was the end to the metaphor again? Right. A fuckingpretzel.
Just what the fuck did he think he was doing here? Did he think, that just because she’d let him watch her come, that she’d let him take some of her blood, that she suddenly—
She suddenlywhat? Malachi didn’t even know what he wanted her to want. What didhewant?
What was hedoing?
The thin bond in his chest snapped as Desmond finally took his last breath. For a moment, everything was still, then there was Desmond—or what the human’s called his “soul”. It rose from the bag of bones and flesh on the ground, a brilliant, stunning ball of light.
It flew through Malachi’s body, and he gasped, stumbling, as he was filled with so much power and energy he couldn’t describe it. The Veil fluttered in front of his eyes, Malachi’s heart pounding erratically as he sawthe place he’d been createdfor the first time in a fucking long time, then Desmond’s soul was gone, through the Veil and off to continue on his journey in the afterlife.
Malachi savoured the power flooding his veins; he felt taller, stronger. He hadn’t even noticed the subtle strain he’d been holding in his temples all this time—the strain of keeping himself tethered to a plane in which he didn’t belong.
Until now—until he was flooded withtruepower.
The feeling was reminiscent of somethingin his past. Malachi reached for it, and was plungedinto vividmemory.
The arms of his Sovereign, cradling him after he was born. There was another—a sibling?—pressed close to his side. The love from his creator—his nurturer—felt all consuming, almost painful in its intensity. The feeling filled Malachi up until he found himself naturally returning it, only for it to pour back into him, a feedback loop of pure happiness.
It was shared between three of them, bouncing between them and amplifying until Malachi felt likemorethan just himself—larger than his existence, larger than theuniverse.
Then, just when he’d been introduced to the well of love and belonging that was the rest of the sect, thePriestand thesentriescame. He was pulled from his Sovereign’s arms, his sibling pulled in another direction. Guiling, trustful, still brimming with the joy of his existence, he’d followed, frowning only when he was within the four walls that would become his prison for what was meant to be the rest of his life.
Malachi let the memory stop there, going back instead to how it had felt to be loved, even if it had only been for just a moment.
He understood it first-hand now, why the sects were obsessed with collecting human souls. Apart from the power it brought, Malachi was sure he would never feel this strong sense of love and sheer completeness in his lifetime again.
Unless he took another. Malachi’s hands clenched by his sides. He didn’t dare think of Joy, of what it would feel like.
He needed to find another contract soon, just in case, probably before the one with Joy ended. After that, he would go back to his house in the woods until that new contract ended, and the cycle repeated itself again.
Once upon a time, that cycle had felt like safety. Now, though, it was beginning to feel like just another kind of prison.
SEVEN
Joy was sitting cross-legged on her bed when Malachi returned. She straightened imperceptibly at his appearance, and even though Malachi could tell she was trying to suppress her emotions, he could scent her immediate relief. Malachi immediately felt pleased, though he tried to pretend he wasn’t.
Joy was seemingly watching the TV from all the way on her bed, pretending valiantly that she couldn’t see him standing there. Malachi walked until he was standing in front of the sofa, raising an eyebrow when she still refused to look in his direction, her expression stubbornly expressionless.
Malachi turned around and sat. His heart felt swollen underneath his ribs. They were silent for a moment, the silence filled with tension, before Malachi spoke.
