Envy (The Damning Book 2)

by Katie May

to find all of these ingredients and convince Justin to create the spell.”

  Justin. It took me a second to realize that was the Mage King’s name.

  Bash’s father’s name.

  Dair has gone rigid in my arms, his muscles flexing and tensing. I rubbed

  his back, attempting to soothe the tension away.

  “Show your gratitude,” Tavvy said stiffly. He moved to stand beside me,

  and I felt his finger caress a pathway down my arm. I shivered, but not in

  pleasure. Disgust curdled in my stomach at having a hand on me that wasn’t

  one of my mates.

  “We figured today would be an opportune time to test this potion,” the

  Mermaid King continued, a wicked glint to his eyes. I couldn’t quite

  understand the reason behind that emotion. “Since Dair and my sons will be

  accompanying you.”

  “They will?” I blurted before I could stop myself. I had known Dair

  would come with me, but I hadn’t expected the others to come as well.

  Tavvy’s smile was predatory, a Nightmare out for the kill.

  “Of course,” he answered. The tips of his fingers brushed the sides of my

  breasts, and both Dair and I stiffened. I immediately pressed myself further

  against Dair, willing him to calm down. This, his legs, was a gift I had no

  doubt would be ripped away the second the King felt like it.

  Fighting his brother would just fuel his already vindictive fire.

  “Thank you, my King, for your gift,” I managed to spit out through

  gritted teeth. Those were words I never wanted to say to such a despicable

  man, but if they gave Dair his legs back, I would say them repeatedly.

  When Dair continued to stare blankly over my head, at his father, I

  nudged his stomach. A muttered “thanks” left his lips.

  What was going on with him?

  I had thought he would be happy, overjoyed, to have his legs back. Why

  was he looking as if he had been punched repeatedly in the face?

  As we moved to exit the room, I grabbed his hand and pulled him to a

  stop, waiting for the others to pass us. Both Tavvy and the King met my eyes

  when they passed. The King's expression was smug while Tavvy’s

  was...lustful.

  “You okay?” I asked Dair in a whisper as soon as his family was out of

  earshot. He refused to meet my inquiring gaze, despite the fact I knew he

  could feel it probing his forehead.

  “I’m fine.” His voice was resigned. Tired. Weak.

  “Dair...you’re walking,” I stated, awed. With him on two feet, I realized

  that he was tall, nearly a foot taller than me. I wanted nothing more than to

  climb him like a tree, claim those pouty lips of his, wrap my legs around

  him...

  “I’m walking,” he agreed, subdued. With a heavy sigh, he finally glanced

  down at me, meeting my eyes. Whatever he saw in my face had his own

  expression softening. His hand snatched a blond curl, wrapping it around his

  finger. Another sigh. “Z...”

  “Don’t,” I warned. “This is something to be happy over. Something to

  celebrate.” My throat closed with emotion, and I stood on my tiptoes to press

  my lips to his skin. I couldn’t quite reach his lips, so I brushed them against

  the hollow of his throat instead. He shuddered delicately, arms wrapping

  around my stomach. “You’re walking. You’re fucking walking.”

  I wanted to scream it to the world. From the highest rooftops and

  mountains, from the lowest oceans and valleys. Happiness bubbled up inside

  of me, unlike anything I had ever felt before.

  Dair met my excitement with a smile of his own. That smile turned from

  tentative to luminescent as his hands tugged me even closer, my body

  molding against his.

  “I’m walking.” His voice was dazed. “I’m walking.”

  His lips crushed mine in a bruising kiss. Possessiveness exuded from his

  body in waves as he held me to him. One hand cupped the back of my head

  while the other snagged my ass, kneading it.

  Pulling back, we were both breathing heavily. I knew my face was as

  flushed as his.

  “Go,” he urged me, swatting my butt. “Go say goodbye to your mates.”

  “They’re not coming?” I asked, the amusement instantly waning. I didn’t

  know why I was surprised, but a part of me had expected them to join us.

  Join me. Their absence was going to kill me if just the mere thought pierced

  my heart.

  “Some of them are,” he assured me, noting my rising panic. “But not all

  of them can sneak away.” When I opened my mouth to ask for more details,

  he held up his hands in a placating, universal “I don’t know everything, so

  don’t attack me” gesture.

  Pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his lips, I allowed another smile to

  break through my apathetic facade. “I’m really happy right now.”

  It took him a second to answer. His eyes were trained on something on

  the ceiling but they lowered after a moment, meeting my gaze. A tiny smile

  flicked his lips up. “Me too.”

  With one last kiss, I glanced at the clock hanging overhead. One hour to

  find my mates.

  And I knew which one I was starting with.

  TWENTY-TWO

  RYLAND

  Iknocked once on the plain white door. Silence greeted my

  announcement of arrival before a warm voiced carried.

  “Come in.”

  Stuffing my hands into my pockets, I stepped into a room as familiar to

  me as my own bedroom.

  Father’s office was cluttered - that was the only word adequate enough.

  Having spent years traveling when he was a prince, he had procured quite a

  collection. Ornately carved wood interwoven with threads hung from the

  ceiling. Dream catchers, he had told me. Created by humans and spelled by

  Mages at a time when the two races had worked together. The shelves were

  adorned with books, all varying in age and wear. Dust coated the spines and

  permeated the air.

  There were a few statues on his desk along with a framed picture,

  something that was called a yo-yo, and a coffee cup that said Taste the

  Rainbow.

  The shadows were pulled away from my father’s face to reveal his dark

  skin, the color of burnt porcelain, and golden eyes. His buzzed black hair

  only accentuated his square jaw and arresting features.

  “Father,” I said in way of greeting. I rescinded my own hold on the

  shadows, allowing my face to peer through. Dad looked up from where he

  was bent over a stack of papers, muttering.

  Over his shoulder, an immense map of the territories hung. The Capital

  was directly in the middle with smaller human communities scattered around

  it. These communities were not recognized by the powers that be, but I knew

  for a fact that Z had lived in one of them, just between the Capital and the

  Incubus Kingdom.

  In a circle around the Capital, the seven kingdoms sat. There was no

  rhyme or reason for their placement, except for the fact that it had been

  decreed by the original sins. Or something like that.

  I had never been a particular fan of history or geography. Still, my eyes

  zeroed in on the Mermaid Kingdom, nestled between the Shifter Kingdom

  and Vampire one. It was nothing more than a splatteri
ng of islands inside a

  large, salt-water ocean. It by far had the least amount of land compared to the

  others.

  “What are you working on?” I asked, finally directing my attention back

  to my father. His head was still bent over his latest project, indistinguishable

  muttering escaping his parted lips. At my words, he snapped his head up and

  widened his eyes.

  “I didn’t see you there, boy.”

  “You invited me inside,” I pointed out, amusedly.

  He waved a hand in the air as if to say let bygones be bygones.

  “What do you need?” He finally looked away from his stack of papers,

  leaning back in his chair and folding his hands over his stomach. He was

  muscular from long days in the gym...and my mother’s consistent harping

  about his weight. The one time he had grown a beer belly, my mom never let

  him hear the end of it.

  “Any new information?” I asked. I hated how desperate that one question

  was. How pleading.

  Father’s eyes dimmed slightly, a curtain being drawn closed. He shook

  his head once, and it felt as if he had punched me in the face.

  “Only what I told you before. They’re up to something. This task isn’t

  what it appears to be.” His lip curled up distastefully. “Your mate is going to

  have to be extra careful.”

  I gave him a decisive head bob, but my mind was already wandering. If

  what my dad said was true, and I thoroughly believed it was, Z was in

  danger. The task the Mermaid King had chosen for her was designed for her

  to fail.

  Designed for her to die.

  The thought had me clenching my fists and grinding my jaw against the

  onslaught of emotion.

  With a heavy sigh, Father glanced back at his desk. He looked tired,

  disheveled, and unlike the impeccably dressed and put together man I knew.

  “I don’t know what else to say,” he admitted tersely. “I don’t know

  exactly what they have planned...but I would keep an eye on her, son.” There

  was a short pause as he grabbed a pen, scribbling something on a ledger

  before glancing back up. His eyes were soft in what most would’ve

  considered a hard, glacial face. “Does she make you happy?”

  The question took me by surprise, a physical blow that had me staggering

  back a step. My hand steadily unclenched, and my muscles relaxed. Thoughts

  of Z no longer aggravated me, worried me, but instead brought about a long

  forgotten sense of peace. I tried to keep the dopey smiles to a minimum

  though, and instead gave my father a brisk nod, face solemn.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. That’s good. You need some happiness...” Father trailed off as his

  eyes narrowed on the slip of paper. “That doesn’t make any sense? It should

  be less than that...”

  As he began his usual mutterings, I realized I was excused. When I was

  younger, I had found his constant chatter embarrassing and confusing. Now, I

  only found it endearing to see the old man talk to himself as he sorted

  through a particularly hard problem.

  I waited a moment longer, to see if he would once again acknowledge me,

  before slipping out of his office.

  My thoughts traveled to what he had told me...or the lack of what he had

  said. I tried not to feel irritated, but it bled through anyway. How was I

  supposed to protect Z when I knew nothing about the threat?

  Fuming, lost in my own thoughts, I pulled the shadows back around me

  and slid into my bedroom.

  The room would give Z a run for her money. Weapons lined the walls,

  some of them dated to the before time while others were brand new. Swords,

  knives, spears, and even a couple of axes. Smirking at the collection that

  would make my girl orgasm, I grabbed twin swords off the wall and slung

  them over my back. They were my preferred choice of weapon, and I could

  wield them like an extension of my limbs.

  There was a soft knock on my door.

  Even with a wall separating us, I could feel her presence as if she was

  standing beside me. I fortified the shadows around me, making sure there

  wasn’t a crack in my barrier, before taking a deep breath.

  I knew she would come for me, but I was hoping to delay the inevitable.

  “I know you’re in there!” Her irate voice shattered the last of my resolve,

  and before I realized what I was doing, I had the door pulled open.

  Z stood there, hands on her hips and a frown on her beautiful face. Like

  me, her body was adorned in weapons. A bow and arrow. A sword. And if I

  had to wager a guess, throwing knives up her sleeves and on her thighs.

  Her brow was furrowed, but I watched as it smoothed over, eyes

  widening in wonder.

  “What the fuck is this? And why am I only just seeing it?” She took a

  dazed step into the room, eyes latching on each and every weapon. She

  looked like a kid in a candy shop.

  Or a Bash in a sex shop, that kinky shit.

  She spun around in awe-filled wonder before turning an accusatory glare

  in my direction. A lesser man would’ve pissed themselves at the fury in her

  gaze.

  I merely prayed to the heavens that the tiny blond female wouldn’t cut off

  my balls.

  “You never asked,” I replied easily.

  “You never asked,” she mocked, lowering her voice in a poor

  impersonation of my own. Her finger jabbed through the shadows, touching

  my chest. I jumped at the contact. “Why weren’t you in the throne room

  today?”

  “Excuse me?” I asked, undeterred by her anger. I used the shadows to

  move around her and brought my lips to her ear. Goosebumps pebbled on her

  skin as I released a deep breath.

  “You’ve been weird since the whole Haven thing,” she snapped.

  Wait a minute...?

  “Who the fuck is Haven?”

  “The Gorgon,” she answered dismissively. Were we apparently giving

  monsters names now? Fitting, I supposed. I was a monster too. “Is this about

  our fight in the ballroom?”

  Once more, I called on the shadows to carry me to her other side. My

  hand snaked out and cupped the back of her neck, skin and hair brushing my

  fingers. Both were soft, like silk, and I never wanted to remove my grip.

  “Fight? Was that what we did?”

  Another shift, this time landing me right in front of her. I stared at her

  tiny nose, golden freckles scattered across the bridge. It wasn’t something I

  had ever noticed before, and for some undefinable reason, it made my cock

  painfully hard.

  “Did we have our first couple fight?” I teased, barely resisting the urge to

  lower my head and kiss each individual freckle.

  “Couple.” She snorted at the word, and I tried not to let her dismissal and

  rejection gut me the way it did. “We’re mates, Ryland. We should be better

  than this petty shit.”

  Mates.

  The leaden, miserable feeling lifted until I felt lighter. Buoyant. If she

  was to see my face, she would know I was smiling like an idiot.

  Mates.

  I loved how easily she had claimed me as hers.

  Mates.

  And then the rest of her words washed over me, dousing me in an icy

  w
ave.

  “Petty? You’re right. Mates shouldn’t have petty fights.” I twisted the

  word, made it ugly.

  Z remained in front of me, hands balled into fists and eyes capable of

  penetrating skin.

  “What the hell are you even going on about?”

  “Because of, as you correctly named it, a petty fight, I left you alone! You

  were nearly taken! Killed!” I agitatedly ran a hand through my black hair. It

  wasn’t as short as my father’s, but it wasn’t long by any means.

  My breathing was heavy as I faced Z down. There. That was the root of

  my issues.

  Because I had childishly left her, she had nearly been taken. I didn’t know

  if I could forgive myself for that, and I didn’t think she should forgive me

  either.

  Her chest heaved, eyes narrowing, before a shocked laugh escaped her.

  The sound was melodious but out of place in the tension filled room. I gaped

  at her and quirked a single brow, a gesture I knew was lost on her.

  “You guys all have big fucking heads if you blame yourselves for what

  Haven did.” She shook her head. “Why would you blame yourselves?” She

  paused suddenly, lifting a single finger into the air as if she just had a grand

  epiphany. “Did you send her?”

  Shock reeled through me, and I staggered. How could she think such a

  thing?

  “No-“

  “Did you lure me away from the party, so that I was alone?”

  “Of course not!”

  “Did you drug me with venom?”

  Understanding dawned on me of what she was trying to do, and I pursed

  my lips. Trying to divert the blame, to remind me that it wasn’t my fault.

  That I hadn’t instigated the attack. Blah. Blah. Blah.

  “I know what you’re doing,” I said aloud, and she merely batted her

  eyelashes innocently. “Trying to alleviate my guilt.”

  At that, her eyes rolled practically into the back of her head.

  “There’s nothing to be guilty of,” she insisted once more. The earnestness

  in her voice was nearly impossible to ignore. Still, I remained stubbornly

  silent. “All of you males have a fucking god-complex or some shit!

  Seriously!” She threw her hands up in the air and began to pace. I watched

  my mate with rapt interest, my self-loathing steadily turning into amusement.

  How was she able to do that? To see the parts I hated the most in me and

  smooth down the jagged edges?