Page 48 of Malicent
She is like a fun little mouse, and I am ever a patient lion.
“Hearing you drone on with empty threats is getting boring.” My voice is flat, unimpressed. She thinks a dagger will keep me at her mercy. Laughable.
We have more pressing matters, and I’ve entertained this delusion of hers long enough.
With a single shift of my weight, I push up, making her gasp. My grip remains firm on her back as I maneuver her beneath me and press her back against the earth. Her previous position leaves her legs spread against my chest. Her knees bend, and her legs hang over my shoulders despite keeping the dagger pressed to my skin.
I cage her in, forearms braced beside her head, suffocating the space between us with my presence.
She glares, but I don’t miss the slight heat rising to her cheeks.Interesting.
I lean in, my lips grazing the shell of her ear as I whisper, “I was looking at your dagger.” My voice is deliberately smooth. “It’s exquisite.”
Cruelty pulls at my lips.
“You, on the other hand? What is there to look at?”
I let the words settle, waiting for them to cut.
“You are nothing but an empty husk, surviving off the harm you bring others. Nora’s favorite, I hear.” My silver eyes narrow as my old hatred stirs. “You bitches deserve to burn in the pits of hell you were created in. Hell—go lower. You probably are abysmal.” Burning her and Nora, what an eventful show that would be.
I wish to capture their cries and play them back like a sweet melody, soothing me into sweeter dreams and sweeter situations than the one I currently find myself in.
Millicent’s body coils beneath me, her muscles tensing as she prepares to strike.
Such a predictable, murderous little creature.
Before she can act, I grab her arm, twisting before she can drive the blade into my throat. The dagger tumbles from her grasp, and I chuckle darkly.
“Bad girl.” I pin her arm over the other and lean onto her, trapping her, enjoying the fury flickering in her eyes.
My other hand rises, plucking the dagger from the grass. Slowly, I trace the cold steel over the bare skin of her chest, watching as goosebumps rise in its wake. Her breath shudders, but her glare never wavers. The heat from her gaze would surely set me on fire if she had such capabilities, her mind ripping mine into ribbons if a crack in my shields occurs.
I press the flat edge of the blade lower, following the delicate line of her sternum.
“Fuck you, Cage.” Her voice is low, growling from the back of her throat. Rage thrums beneath her skin, and I sense her magic stirring to life. Her eyes flickered like the first embers of a fire. “In the end, I’ll make sure you all burn.”
Well, that will not do.
I continue my path, tracing an idle pattern against her ribs, pausing just over her heart. I could end this little game with a slight push through the fabric. Bury the blade deep and let the devil bleed out beneath me, just as I am sure she has done to hundreds.
“Behave, little witch.” My voice drops low. I click my tongue, the same way I do when correcting a hound that doesn’t know its place. I decide it is time to stop messing with her.
She stiffens.
I am already bored with this.
Sighing that our game is over, I let the dagger slip back into its sheath on her thigh and secure the strap.
My fingers work through the leather, glancing over the inner curve of her leg. I don’t miss the way her breath catches, just for a moment. A small shiver runs through her muscles.
Oh, this was delicious. She fights so hard, as though she revolts at my touch, but her body betrays her. She must loathe herself for this.
A slow smirk curves my lips. Good.
My voice lowers to something thick and taunting, a husky whisper that brushes against the small space between us. “Tell me, Millicent—have you been properly fucked? Or does no one dare? Asking a Mage to, low bar for you, yeah?”
Her face flushes crimson, yet fury still burns in her eyes.
