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My pride snapped like thin threads against the sudden weight that came down on my head as Malyr forced me to the hard, biting stone. There I kneeled, in a pool of black silk and feathers, stripped of my dignity for all but the table banner that hid some of my burning shame, though not much. After all, my head remained high enough I could see everything.
Every.
Grinning.
Guffawing.
Face.
They all blurred behind that sting in my eyes, my frantic little breaths like a bellow, turning them hot and itchy. I’d always thought I could never disappoint Father more than I already had with my sheer existence. But if he saw me like this…? If word of it ever reached him? Gods…
Malyr took his chair once more, letting chatter and the clanks of tankards return to the great hall.
“Let me have a look at those sparkling eyes.” Leaning over, he clasped my chin between his fingers, lifting my gaze to that infuriating smirk that seemed to twitch higher the more it distorted. “Are you going to cry for me, Galantia? Are you going to cry so prettily in front of my court?”
Anger sparked at my core.
Anger and amusement.
Was that what he was trying to achieve here? To make me cry? How… entertaining.
A sudden thrill flared at my core, like a pulsing of restless energy that had me lift my chin, letting him see those eyes that had forgotten how to cry. “You have no kingdom, no crown. If you call this farce a court, then I can only assume that you’re its fool.”
Somewhere beside me, Sebian coughed. Could have been a subdued laugh; might have been another warning.Don’t provoke him, Galantia. Don’t draw his attention, Galantia.
Well, I’d heeded it all, and look where it had gotten me. Down on my searing, aching knees for the enemy to snicker at!
“Beautiful,” Malyr breathed.
He lifted his hand, running a fingertip along those scabs on my chest. Mapping. Breathing. Driving me out of my skin as I waited for him to retaliate. My pulse worked itself into a frenzy as I waited for him to rip off a scab, dig his nail into the weeping wound beneath or… outright whip his palm across my face. Why wasn’t he? Had he even heard what I’d said?
And then I felt it.
The slithering beneath my skirts…
Cool tendrils licked across my inner thighs, stroking, caressing. Pressing into my flesh as they climbed upward. At that unexpected touch, so shockingly pleasant and void of pain, my heart quickened and rushed liquid heat into my cheeks, my chest… my lower belly.
That chin I’d held high all this time sunk as I once more fixed my eyes on the fabric of my dress, on those threads that shifted, thrummed,slithered.
Not silk.
Shadows.
“Mmm, as much as I hate to confess it, black shadowcloth suits you.” Malyr’s rasping purr vibrated against my temple as those wicked offshoots gathered at my sex with mind-numbing pressure. “And how nicely you are displaying my mark tonight, showing everyone just whom you belong to. Mine to hurt. Mine to torment.”
I tried not to squirm when his shadows probed my entrance, refusing to give him the reaction he sought. “You made this dress?”
“No. My gift is not… delicate enough to create such fine work.” His fingers clasped my chin once more. “We have weavers blessed with the gift of creation for that. I merely supplied the shadows, and they areachingto devour you.”
He sent them to caress my heaving bosom, petting and stroking beneath the black pearls. They tantalized my nipples as the thinnest ringlets lapped at them in tight circles. The most depraved of them drummed my entrance, making moisture gather where there should be none. What was wrong with me?
I clenched my thighs shut. Wouldn’t acknowledge those shivering flares of pleasure that threatened to destroy my last bit of grace and composure in front of the entire court.
It didn’t have the desired effect…
If anything, Malyr’s shadows writhed harder. They slinked through my folds, winding the pleasure tighter, coiling around my clitoris until it throbbed with terrifying intensity. Gods, I couldn’t possibly enjoy this…
Could never let him know that I did.
