Page 61 of Arise the Queen
It was no wonder he kept himself apart, and no wonder he’d forsworn her bed—such as it was, on this cold, damp ground.
And the more Gwendolyn thought about it, the greater her sense that they were nearing an end—not merely the end of their relationship, but the end of everything. With her recently gained knowledge, Amergin’s words now made more sense, and she sensed in her heart that win or lose this battle against Locrinus… everything would change.
Of course, if she lost, it would mean she was dead because Gwendolyn would never stop fighting until one of them lay mulching daises—Locrinus, preferably.
And if she should win… she could not leave an heir for Pretania if she remained unwed and she could not wed an absent Fae king.
As well as she understood she would not shirk her own duties, she knew Málik wouldn’t either. He might not have coveted his Fae throne, but he’d accepted his duty, and Gwendolyn knew he would not abdicate.
Nor would she.
She sighed, considering Caradoc…
His last words before her departure from Trevena had been a thinly veiled marriage proposal—because, of course, what else should a woman wish to be, but a wife? And yet, forsooth, maybe wedding Caradoc was the right thing to do for this kingdom… and regardless… Gwendolyn could not bring herself to imagine anyone else in her bed… Not after sharing it with Málik.
She longed to tousle his silver hair betwixt her fingers, gaze into his beautiful blue eyes that twinkled so fiercely with mischief.
She loved the way his teeth glinted under the moonlight—all these images haunted her every waking moment, and even now, with him so close and yet so far, her heart ached with yearning for him.
“Málik,” she whispered longingly, and then, as though she had conjured him, she startled at the sound of his voice.
“Gwendolyn,” he whispered.
Gwendolyn gasped aloud, suddenly unable to face him. She stared down at his reflection in the water, her heart beating so loudly she feared he might hear.
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She daren’t rise, fearing her legs might not hold her.
“If I did not know better, I’d swear you were avoiding me,” he said lightly, and his hair caught the breeze, shimmering along the water’s edge like a current of molten silver. His pale-blue eyes held the barest hint of amusement as he gazed down upon her, his presence utterly intoxicating. He was a god woven from night itself, his pale-blue eyes burning with the same flame of hunger as her own.
Gwendolyn’s heart beat like thunder in her ears, and her face flushed with heat as she attempted to steady herself to rise. His proximity made this impossible.
“Me?” she said to his face in the water. “I could say the same of you.” She tried to keep her tone light despite the violent rabble of butterflies that took flight in her belly. “It is not me who’s kept myself apart,” she added, even now, torn between feelings of betrayal and this undeniable connection they shared. But, for once, Gwendolyn didn’t wish to argue. Time was growing short, and she was grateful for his presence, no matter what their discord.
Even if it took him nearly a month to seek her out—sending messages through Bryn and Emrys instead of facing her himself. How easy it was to hide amidst two thousand Fae soldiers, even unintentionally.
Málik chuckled softly, and the sound sent a quiver down Gwendolyn’s spine.
“Then it seems we are both guilty.”
“One guiltier than the other.”
“That would be me,” he confessed. “Behaving like a foolish little boy.”
Gwendolyn’s lips turned slightly at one corner. “Not so little,” she allowed, and he laughed. His playful banter was a welcome distraction, but she could still not move. She sat, peered into the water, gaping at the ripples in their faces.
Really, she understood it wasn’t fair to hold him accountable for an act he was compelled to commit.
And no matter, she couldn’t keep herself from asking. “Would you have done it?”
His tone was as sober as she’d ever heard it. “Taken your head?”
Gwendolyn nodded.
“Yes,” he said truthfully. “I had no choice.”
“I see,” Gwendolyn said, and though she understood, she still felt peeved by his admission—but he’d spoken the truth, and after complaining so much about that, she did not wish to have him lie to her.
