Nectar of the Wicked (Deadly Divine, #1) (101)

I blinked at his tense form, so stunned, I almost flinched when he cursed and turned back.

“No,” he said with a humorless laugh. “You want to know what I think?”

He didn’t give me a chance to answer. My eyes widened as he advanced on me.

“I think even if you were a prisoner, you should be nothing but grateful. You live better than most while trapped within these walls among this huge estate. You’ve spent time with the enemy that seeks to eradicate this kingdom from the map of Folkyn, yet we still treat you with respect although you’re reluctant to talk about anything you’ve experienced during your time at Hellebore Manor.”

“I...” I stepped back against my closed door, at a loss for all the words I’d thought I still wanted to voice.

“I should hate you.” Avrin’s smirk was cruel, his scent a rising spiced mint as he loomed over me and set his hands on either side of my head upon the door. “I want to hate you. You’re ignorant and insufferably trusting and naive, and it drives me mad, but that is also why I can’t. This...” He gestured around us. “This prison you’re referring to?”

His hand slapped back against the wood by my head as he leaned so close, I could see the flecks of brown within his gold eyes. “It’s supposed to be mine, and now, I can’t help but be glad that I might have to share it, and it fucking enrages me.”

Shock stole my voice, my thoughts, then my breath as his mouth fell over mine.

Without a second of hesitation, he kissed me.

Rough at first touch, then immediately slowing to a rubbing caress. A stunned breath left me, and he rumbled a groan in response, his tongue seeking entry to my mouth. I gave it to him, but only for a moment.

His taste, a softened sweet wine, startled.

Something within me recoiled. My head turned, forcing his lips from mine.

Staring at the stone arch while Avrin seemed to inhale my scent at my neck, I withheld the urge to push him away—and the urge that pleaded for the return of his kiss to help erase the stain of another’s. I whispered thickly, “Thought you weren’t interested in Florian’s toys.”

He stepped back, his hands slowly sliding down the door. “I lied.”

When I finally dared to look at him, he was gone.





I didn’t sleep.

I tossed and turned in the spring warmth, uncomfortable in my own skin and mulling over Avrin’s words. He thought I would take all he expected to inherit—and I would. I should. Yet just imagining such a thing, that I would one day rule this place...

I couldn’t imagine it at all.

Avrin had been wrong in so many ways to say what he had. But he’d also been right. I didn’t deserve this, and I clearly didn’t want this. Not in the way he did. Though there was one thing he’d said I couldn’t understand, and it chased me from bed and into the quiet hall.

He wasn’t awake. No one would be. It was long after midnight.

It didn’t matter. I walked to the end of the hall to the row of arched windows that gave view to the star shine over the lake in the distance.

A harsh laugh echoed from down the hall. From the springs, I realized. About to head back to my room, I stopped at hearing my father’s voice.

“... marry you. I will not have her used as a weapon to bring me to my knees.”

A pause. “And if she refuses?”

“She cannot.”

Silence.

I crept closer but didn’t dare get too close to the stairs that twirled down beneath the ground to the springs.

Several failed heartbeats later, Avrin murmured, “You cannot mean...” Another pause. “She is your daughter.”

Molkan growled, “I went without one for twenty years, only to be handed a creature sullied by my enemy.” His voice dropped. “I care not for her fate. I cannot afford to when more important things are at stake.”

More silence followed. A silence so loud, I feared my chaotic heartbeat might be heard. I gripped the window ledge, knowing I should walk away before I heard anything else that might leave another scar.

Then Avrin spoke in a hard tone. “Tullia is not an object to claim or discard, Sire.”

A gruff, humorless laugh bounced up the stairs and echoed down the hall. “Yet that is exactly what she has become, and if you truly desire to one day take my place, then you must learn from my mistakes.” Molkan barked, “Cease thinking with your fucking cock.”





The white-haired servant delivered a sheer golden gown that would leave minimal to the imagination.

Although I was far from pleased with the finery, I still smiled and gestured for him to lay it on the bed.

He lingered a moment, his features tightening as he looked from my uneaten breakfast to me. I hadn’t the energy to reassure him. And I hadn’t the energy to ask if there would be anything else to accompany the revealing material that resembled more of a seductive nightgown.

I gave my eyes back to the window, my stomach in endless knots and fear my only companion as the door quietly closed.

The first sign that something was wrong was the dress. The second was that no one came to decorate my face nor do my hair.

And as the sun dipped low and the stars began to sprinkle across the darkening sky, apprehension stilted my movements when I finally donned the gown.