Nectar of the Wicked (Deadly Divine, #1) (40)

Florian was not impressed.

Talking with one of his grumpy-looking warriors, he looked at me with a heat in his eyes that darkened to outrage when he spied the cub.

“His majesty returns.” I smiled brightly. “Look what I found.”

The fire-haired male Florian had been speaking with looked me over with a smirk, then took his leave with a bow to his king.

The king scowled at the tiny mound of white fur in my arms. His eyes narrowed on the blood covering the cub’s leg. The wolf whimpered and seemed to recoil from his gaze.

I held her tighter and hushed her. “He won’t hurt you.”

When I looked back at the king, his features had flattened. But I didn’t miss the way his lips twitched. “What makes you so sure?” His brow arched. “That is a wolf. A beast that has no place bleeding anywhere near my home.”

“I know what she is, and she’s just a babe who needs help.”

“Put it back,” Florian clipped in a tone that warned not to disobey him. “Messing with nature’s way never serves well.”

“And what if nature intended for me to happen upon her for this very reason?” I readjusted her weight in my arms. “I can help her, Florian.” I nodded insistently. “I’ll keep her in the stables. You won’t even know she’s here.”

He glared, speaking through tight teeth. “You cannot keep a wolf with horses.”

“I’m sure they won’t mind, being that she’s just a cub.”

His clenched jaw shifted.

Sheepish, I grinned and spun to leave. “I’ll see you later.”

“Butterfly,” he growled.

I hurried across the drive. The heavy stares of guards and warriors tracked my careful steps down the iced garden path surrounding the manor.

As tall as trees in the woods, the stables sat only half an acre behind Florian’s giant fortress. It felt like a short eternity as I feared being followed and stopped.

Of course, the king was right. The horses were not happy.

Snickering and shifting echoed throughout the stalls when I entered the dark.

The stable hand jumped up from where he’d been taking a nap on bales of hay. A piece fell from his slack lips at the sight of me. “What in the skies—”

“Excuse me,” I said and continued to the vacant stalls at the very end. They were not tended to, old hay and some excrement left to rot. I set the cub down and grabbed a rake.

The stable hand appeared. “I really cannot—”

“I’m in need of some horse blankets, please.”

The tall and thin male blinked, scowling at me. Gripping his suspenders, he eyed me up and down with a sneer. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

I smiled and offered my hand. “What is your name?”

He made a face at my hand, then stomped away in his knee-high boots to get me what I needed.





Florian was waiting on the side of my bed when I exited the bathing room after washing away the blood and muck.

Hands clasped between his knees, he rubbed his thumbs together. The darker bristle upon his face made me even more curious about what he’d been doing in his time away from the manor, if he’d been too busy to groom himself.

Admittedly, I rather liked it.

The cub, of whom I’d decided to call Snow for now, was tucked within a stall. Henron, the stable hand, had thankfully found a salve and a bandage for her wounds.

“Does it give you satisfaction?” I frowned, and he said, “To defy me?”

Wearing only a towel, I went to stand before the fire at the end of the bed to assist in drying my hair. Defying him had not been for the enjoyment of it, though I could not deny that it did please me to leave him wanting for once.

Before I could pass him, my hand was snatched. A shocked laugh escaped as he pulled me between his knees.

It died when his searing midnight eyes climbed my body to meet mine.

“Hello, Majesty.”

His jaw ticked. “Florian.”

“I’m afraid you’ve been gone too long for me to feel that familiar with you,” I teased.

“I’ve had my tongue in your cunt and your drool on my neck,” he said with far too much ease. He smirked when my eyes widened. “If that’s not familiar, then please...” He clasped the back of my legs, hands slowly rising up my thighs, the towel taken with them. “Do tell me what is.”

“You’re awfully crude.”

“Do not pretend to mind.”

I raised a brow, but he was right. I didn’t mind at all. “And I do not drool in my sleep.”

His teeth flashed with a heart-thawing smile. “You do, and I’ve yet to wash my neck.”

“That’s...” My nose crinkled. “Rather unpleasant.”

“What is unpleasant, butterfly, is your defiance.” The towel was tugged to the floor, and I gasped as his hands roamed over my thighs and hips.

He stood, and in his absence, I’d almost forgotten his towering height and breath-robbing presence. His hands skimmed the curves of my breasts, one sliding my wet hair over my shoulder.

As the other hand wrapped around my throat.

Looming over me, he gently squeezed my neck and lowered his mouth to mine. “I should punish you for disobeying me.”