Envy (The Damning Book 2)
Page 18
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?