Page 80 of Thief of Souls
Maybe he’s telling the truth. Maybe he merely came along and took advantage of my rapture-addled state. Maybe he didn’t plan it.
“I was wondering if you’d ever win free of Keir.” He prowls closer. “He’s so protective of you, my sweet. It must be chafing. But then, what is it they say? Keep your enemies close?”
I run my tongue over my teeth. I need to play this right. “Sometimes. But sometimes I like knowing he gets jealous.”
“Such a cruel game you play,” he whispers.
“Aren’t they all?”
A smile.
“A gift for you,” he murmurs, conjuring four long thin hair needles out of nowhere. He certainly wasn’t hiding them behind his robe.
“Forme?”
A denial dies on the tip of my tongue as I catch a glimpse of the little jeweled ornaments on the end of them. A crescent moon adorns the largest. The other three are glittering stars, encrusted with tiny crushed diamonds.
“For you,” he murmurs. “For you shine the brightest of any here.”
Now I know he’s full of shit. As amazing as I am, the women here are beautiful. “That’s so sweet of you.”
Circling around behind me, he slides the first pin into the hair twisted on top of my head. “Sweet. Now I know you’re mocking me.” Another pin. “Does it amuse you to have two powerful princes chasing after you?”
“Are there two of them?” Even though my voice sounds flirtatious, I can’t quite manage to soothe the tension from my shoulders. He’s right behind me with a weapon in hand.
“There could be.” Another pin. And then the final one, sliding into place within my hair a little painfully. He strokes a strand of hair over my shoulders. “Wherehashe been hiding you?”
“Keir?” I take a nervous sip of my elderberry wine, then force myself to spit it back into my glass before he notices. It’s not every day a girl finds herself the center of a prince’s attention and I’m not fool enough to think this has anything to do with me.
No. Malechus is playing games.
I’m just the pawn he’s using to take a tilt at Keir.
Something about Keir unnerves him.
“He’s kept you from every court in the land,” Malechus muses. “Just think of all you’ve missed out on because of him.”
Murderous fae. Blood curses. Overly ambitious predators. Oh, yes, such a shame. “Maybe His Highness makes up for it in other ways.”
His smile is dangerous and knowing. “You remind me of someone.”
“Was she beautiful?”
He leans closer, forcing me to put my back against the wall in order to maintain some semblance of distance. Over his shoulder I catch a glimpse of the room. He’s managed to herd me away from others quite nicely. “She was beautiful.” There’s hunger roughening his voice as he slips the sleeve from my shoulder. “But better yet, she belonged to another and I wanted her. I like taking what I want.”
Pressing a finger to his chest I arch a brow. “Then your father should have taught you to share better. Being the bone caught between two dogs is hardly flattering, Your Highness.”
His hand curls around my wrist. “Only when you think you’re the one with the leash in hand, is it?”
There it is.
The glimpse of something ugly in his face that I saw the other night.
This seductive tease is nothing more than a mask for his true intentions.
“Tsk, tsk, Malechus.” A voice calls out. “Chasing sloppy seconds again?”
The Lord of Mistmark appears, winding his way between sarcophagi. Falion lurks at his heels like a watchful hound.
