Page 34 of Clash of Storms
"Which part have you noticed?" Malin arched a brow. "That I'm beneath you?"
"No. That's not what I—"
"You prove my point. Why would I succumb to anydrekimale?Drekido not take drekling as consorts," Malin continued. "They take them as lovers occasionally, but rarely anything else. Our impure blood would sour adreki'sbloodline, would it not? We are bodies to be used. Nothing more."
"I did not sayyou—as a drekling—were beneath me," he snarled. "And you seem quite prejudiced againstdrekimales."
"Give me one good reason not to be," she demanded, pushing to her feet.
So this was what it took to rile her beyond her fear of him.
It was glorious.
"What about your precious exiled Prince Rurik? Your perfect prince is beyond criticism, is he not?"
Heat darkened Malin's cheeks. "I don't know what you speak of."
He restrained himself from rolling his eyes. Barely. "If the prince is restored to his rightful place, all shall be well within the court," he pitched his voice higher, to mock her. "The heavens shall open, a chorus of radiant angels appear, and the evildrekiqueen shall be overthrown. According to the royalists at court, Prince Rurik is handsome, noble, honorable, a veritable saint.... I wouldn't be surprised it he can fart lightning bolts out his ass—"
"I wouldn't know."
The heat and fire had vanished from within her, and she clasped her hands in front of her carefully. It rankled. He wanted the spitfire back.
Play with me, damn you.
"Relax, Malin. I don't give a damn whether you're a royalist or not."
"I'm not a royalist."
He smiled. "Liar."
"I'm not." She clenched her fists.
Sirius circled the fire to confront her, but Malin scrambled back. He froze in abject frustration. "Tell me, sweet Malin.... If your prince is such a veritable god, how can alldrekimales be evil sneering overlords? Or is it possible you're wrong?"
"If you're trying to pretend you have anything in common with the prince—"
"I have nothing in common with Rurik." Goddess grant him that mercy. "Except for our mutual dislike of the queen. That doesn't make me the villain."
"Oh, of course not," she retorted. "There's not a single reason most of the court is terrified of you."
"Have I ever hurt you?" he asked softly, staring down into her eyes.
She glared back at him, but her teeth nibbled on her lower lip in thought. "You're the Blackfrost."
A whisper.
A condemnation.
No, he'd never hurt her, but his hands weren't clean and they both knew it.
In that moment, he'd never hated his reputation more.
"Have I ever hurtyou, Malin? Have I ever hurt your fellow drekling? Your princess?"
Malin sunk into his fur cloak, only her dark eyes revealed as she glared at him.
But she had no answer to his questions.
